Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
“Really, Amy?” Amity asked the last time she saw me downing pancakes. “A full stack? And do you really need powdered sugar and maple syrup and butter for flavor?”
“Why, what would you suggest I use?” I snark back.
Amity rolls her eyes.
“For one, I wouldn’t eat pancakes. Those things are all carbs and they’re just going to sit in your stomach for hours. Second, why don’t you use that new vegan spread I got instead of butter? It’s healthier for you.”
“It’s not healthier for me because that vegan shit is made from all sorts of fake oils that come from a lab. I’m sorry to diss your lifestyle choices, but vegan doesn’t necessarily mean “natural.” It just means no animal products. Lab-manufactured chemicals are very much still on the table.”
Amity merely scrunched her nose with a look of disgust.
“Have it your way then,” she says, stalking off while slapping her towel over one shoulder. “But I swear, Amy. If you balloon to three hundred pounds from your poor food choices, don’t come knocking on my door for gastric bypass. I’m not paying for the surgery!”
I roll my eyes as my mom disappears up the stairs.
“No one’s doing gastric bypass anymore, Mom!” I call after her. “Everyone’s doing Ozempic or Wegovy instead! Haven’t you heard? Semaglutides are the new miracle drug for weight loss! Get with the program!”
Of course, Amity already knows because she tried to convince me to take a couple shots of Ozempic “just for fun.” I said no, of course. I don’t trust the diet industry, and besides, this stuff hasn’t been tested long-term yet.
But there’s no reply from upstairs, and I roll my eyes again. Seriously, Amity’s harping gets on my nerves and I’m glad to be away from my mother, if only for a week. The memory makes me angry, and snapping back to the present, I take a vicious bite of my meatball sub as if in retaliation for all of my mother’s snarky comments.
Calm down, Amy, the voice in my head soothes. You’re here to get away, remember? Forget Amity, Andrew, and the stupid arranged marriage they’ve set up for you. Focus on the present.
I take another bite of my meatball sub, but somehow, the flavor’s been ruined by my mom’s past comments. Sighing, I put it down and decide to look at the trail map. I’m probably pretty close to the next fork, where I transition from the Stuntz Trail to the Sooner Fork. It’ll be good to get my bearings before picking up to start the hike again.
But when I stare at the map, suddenly, I realize that something’s wrong. I was supposed to pass a certain trailhead a couple miles back, and I didn’t see anything. Not only that, but according to the map, I was supposed to be hiking slightly uphill this morning, but that definitely hasn’t happened. If anything, I’ve been going downhill and putting pressure on my knees during the walk. What in the world? Where am I?
I bounce to my feet before whipping out my phone. Of course there’s no signal now that I’m lost. I stand there for a moment, listening with all ears, trying to see if I can hear the rush of cars, or any indication of civilization. But again, there’s just the soft rustle of leaves, as well as the call of a bird from high overhead. What the hell?
Quickly, I grab my pack and heave it onto my back. This sucks because although I’m an experienced hiker, I didn’t expect to get lost, and especially not after just a few hours in the woods. Even worse, no one’s even going to know I’m missing. Everyone thinks I’ll be gone for a week at a minimum, so I could literally die out here, and they wouldn’t send a search party for at least ten days. By then, my corpse will be a decomposing mess. Oh shit, oh shit. What do I do?
Quickly, I stumble further down the mountain, my knees shaking as my blood pulses.
Stay calm, the voice in my head soothes. You’re fine, Amy. You will find your way out of this.
But I’m panicked now. Somehow, I’ve gone from being angry at my parents, to full-blown anxiety at the situation. My head pounds as my eyes stare around wildly. My feet skitter on the trail as I keep going downhill, almost jogging at this point as loose pebbles tumble down the mountain beneath my feet. What do I do? Oh my god, do I have enough water? I’m feeling parched already. I know I should have brought emergency flares. Cursing under my breath, tears spring to my eyes.
Finally, I come down the mountain to find myself at the edge of a lake. The water is a deep, mysterious blue, and I force myself to close my eyes and just breathe for a moment.