I nod, pulling a granola bar from the side pocket of my shorts.

She turns her nose up. “Why is it wrapped like that?”

I stare at the bar wrapped in parchment paper inside a plastic bag. “Like what?”

“Like you didn’t buy it from a store.”

“Because I made it.”

“Oh …” She takes it from me as if it contains a grenade missing its pin.

“Come on. Eat while you walk so we can get back to the tent before it gets dark.”

Giving me a tight grin, she stands. I don’t miss the flash of a grimace as her step falters.

“You good?”

“Fine.” Her shoulders pull backward. “Water?” She stares at the canteen in my right hand.

“Sure.” I hand it to her.

Avery twists it in one direction then the other. “What side did you drink out of?”

“Really? You’ve probably eaten pig assholes in the form of a hot dog, yet you’re worried about my germs?”

She glares at me.

I smirk. “Fine. I’ll pour some in the lid.”

Tiny, painful grunts sound behind me as I lead her down the hill toward Swarley.

“Wait! No. Dude …” Her nose scrunches as I start to pour water into the canteen lid. “Did you let Swarley drink out of that?”

“Yes. I gave water to your dog since you didn’t think to bring any. You’re welcome. So if you are truly thirsty, then you will have to make the tough decision.” I hold up the canteen in one hand and the water-filled lid in my other hand. “My germs or Swarley’s?”

Her gaze flits between my two hands.

“You know …” Extending out my hand with the lid, I withdraw one of her options. “I don’t want your pig-asshole germs, and he’s your dog, so if you want the water, you’ll have to drink it from the lid.” Tipping up the canteen, I take a long swig.

“I do not have pig-asshole germs!” She tries to snag the canteen from my hand, practically hugging my arm in the process. “Give me a drink.”

I turn in a circle, keeping the coveted prize above her head as she chases my hand like a dog after its tail.

“Give me a drink! Stop being such a big jerk!”

I stop.

She stumbles over my feet.

With my free arm, I catch her, holding her to my chest.

She pants, eyes wild with adrenaline and maybe a little fear. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispers.

I flinch. Has someone hurt her? Physically hurt her?

Searching her eyes, I look for the answer. I don’t see it.

“I might kill you, Avery. But I won’t hurt you.”

Her unblinking eyes widen.

I grin. “It will be quick and painless.” Releasing her from my chest, I hold up my three middle fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

After several long seconds, she blinks. I offer her the canteen.