There is no hint that he has been carrying the same burden as me. He has moved on with his life, the situation between us an afterthought. I alone am carrying it. Is this how Earnell feels? I smile uneasily. “Yea, see you around,” I say before awkwardly walking to my table, which is full of unfamiliar faces, luckily. We smile, we eat, we give a summary of our background. All while feasting on baked chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and string beans. It’s so delicious, I forget the higher-class codes of conduct and lick my fingers. I look down at my protruding belly, proud of the haul.

I scram back to my room while everyone makes polite conversation over dessert. Tonight, they are serving apple pie and vanilla ice cream. I don’t love most sweets, so I don’t feel like I’m missing out.

When I return to the comfort of my room, I exhale, finally. Shakespeare was right. The gods or the Keepers or whoever’s in charge love playing with us. “All the world’s a stage.” I’m the fool trapped in the spotlight right now. I turn off the lights and pull the covers up to my neck. For the first time in my life, the darkness is my friend, shielding me from the reality of my current situation. I try to force myself to sleep and find refuge in the limitless dreamworld. Any dream will be better than this. Even a nightmare, since I know it’ll be over by morning. When do you wake up from life, though?

The retreat has turned into a game of hide with no seek. Any time I catch a glimpse of Bryce or Earnell, I duck behind the nearest object.

“What on earth are you doing?” Connor says, catching me standing behind a large, broad-leaved plant. “You’ve been jittery since yesterday. Is everything OK? Do you think you might have a problem with alcohol? I mean after that night at Professor Alexander-Grant’s, I wondered if that might have been a red flag or something.”

“What? No. That was just a mistake. I was going through something. Now leave me alone, Connor. I’m trying to be one with this plant. I’ll clap. I’ll do it. Don’t force my hands.”

“Whoa, whoa. No need to be cruel. I just wanted to ask one more thing, then I promise I won’t bother you for the rest of the weekend. I was wondering if you might be interested in leading one of the first-year hiking trips next year. I think you’d be great. You’re so thoughtful and would really look after people.”

“Me taking an entire group of students into the woods alone? I’ll pass,” I say while peeking anxiously through the leaves of the plant.

“Just think about it, OK? You might be surprised at how much you have to give.”