"We have always held to the hope, the belief, the conviction that there is a better life, a better world, beyond the horizon."
- Franklin D. Roosevelt

Abigail woke up to heat. She was buried under something that was setting her alight. As she tried to turn over to get some air, she felt the weight of something, no, someone, lying almost on top of her. With an ease so as not to wake him up, Abigail slowly extricated herself from his grasp and escaped from the roasting covers she had been under. She was already uncomfortable sharing the bed with Alex, but this closeness was unsettling.

Standing by the bed, she looked around again and walked over to the cabinet that stood in the corner. The door let out a loud squeak as she pulled it open, and she instantly looked back to the bed. Luckily, it hadn't seemed to faze Alex. He was still in the same position on the bed, snoring lightly. Turning back to the cabinet, she saw that she was in luck. There were a few bottles of water and some food tucked away, just as she had hoped. She immediately grabbed a bottle of water, and not caring about the temperature, she turned it up, guzzling it all down. As she sat the empty bottle back down, she couldn't believe she had been as thirsty as she seemed. She couldn't recall a time in her life when she had gone without water for such a period.

Turning back to face Alex, it hit her that she was at an advantage this morning. He wasn't awake to harass her about her desire for privacy and modesty. The irony did occur to her that she had loathed her modest clothing every day of her life, and she could recall each morning wishing she would be able to share herself with someone. But in reality, and in this situation, she couldn't help but stick to her modest ways. She rushed to her bag and quietly, so as not to wake Alex, she pulled out her blue jeans and a t-shirt: she had no intentions of wearing that grotesque dress again if she could help it, plus the jeans would be much better attire for the journey if they would still be in the woods.

She quickly pulled off her pajama pants and had just stepped into her blue jeans when she heard the bed squeak under Alex's shifting body. She immediately turned her back to him but was too late.

"Well thanks, Abigail," he began, teasing her, "you could have let me know about the show. I would have gotten up sooner." He was laughing as he finished his taunt. Abigail just gave him an irritated look and quickly pulled on her jeans and buttoned them.

"You know, Alex," she started, placing her hands on her hips in an attempt to show her agitation, "a gentleman would just keep looking away."

"I never claimed to be a gentleman," he quickly replied, chuckling.

Impatient with his desire to humiliate her, and trying to hide the joy she secretly got from his joking, she picked up her pajama pants from the floor and threw them at him, hitting him square in the face. He just picked them up and chuckled again.

"I love getting a rise out of you," but he could see that she didn't get the joke. "Don't you see," he asked, "You could never have this kind of fun back in Louxe."

She didn't respond immediately, but she knew he had a point.

"Fine, I get it," she began, "just... turn around again so I can change shirts."  Sluggishly, he turned his back to her yet again.

"You know, Abby," he teased again, "you don't mind me calling you Abby, do you?" he questioned.

"That's fine," she replied quickly. Trying to get her new shirt over her head as quickly as possible.
"I'm not really sure what you are hiding from me," he teased, "it's not like it's something I've never seen before." With that comment, he turned back around, not caring if she was dressed or not. Luckily she was.

Abigail wasn't sure how she felt about him saying that, and chose to stay silent. She didn't like the way her chest felt as she thought about all of the implications his comment could have meant. But, she knew that she didn't want to have this conversation again, so this time, as he stood from the bed and grabbed his pants from the floor, she didn't even attempt to turn away from him. If he could make her feel this way, then she could put on her best brave face and be the girl she wanted to become.

After they both had changed and Abigail had packed up her bag, there was awkwardness in the air that couldn't be avoided. She wanted desperately to break the tension that had built between them, but wasn't sure how to do it without bringing up those same thoughts and feelings she had felt at his comment. What this implied about her relationship with him, she wasn't sure. And she wasn't sure what she wanted it to imply, either. Did she like Alex like that? And if she did, was it because of what he had to offer to her? Was it because of everything he represented to her? Or was it simply because she had spent more time strictly with him than she ever had with any other human being before?

On top of her thoughts about him, she couldn't help but wonder what he thought their relationship was. Was he under the impression that because she had left with him they would become something? Or was this simply a friendship to him, as well?

"Abigail," Alex began, breaking the silence, "I think it's time we got going. We have a long way to travel today and I would really like to make it home by daybreak."

"Okay," she curtly replied, "let's go then."