Smucker asked. I hadn’t noticed Mila was with Mark, but I wasn’t surprised.“My girlfriend is scared,” I replied.“Mine too,” Mark echoed.“We’ll keep it above board,” I promised.“Mmm ... hmmm...” Mr. Smucker allowed. He didn’t make Mark or me release our embraces.Tess and I, as well as Mark and Mila, waited out the storm, holding onto each other for the two and a half hours we sheltered from the typhoon. The all-clear was announced around 9:30 that evening. Troops hiked back to find their campsites and to find out if they still had a place to sleep that night.It was hard to be certain, but many campsites had been hit hard by the intense storm. We passed troop campsites in Subcamp Five that had been flattened. Others were standing. We passed Troop 531 on our way back to our subcamp. John Ioanni’s father’s troop had fared fairly well. All tents were standing, though the tall flagpole on their gateway had crashed to the ground.Mark and I gave our girlfriends a good night kiss when we. "What?" "I don't know," was all she could muster. "You think this is all just play," I realized. "Like I'm some kind of player, saying all the right things." It made sense to me, I suppose. Guys with the determination to get with someone as drop dead gorgeous as her certainly existed, and I'm sure she's seen her fair share of men who considered her nothing more than a conquest, especially if she was being her normal evasive self. She moved away from me, and turned her head, an angry tone entered her voice. "Isn't it? Isn't it always? How am I supposed to tell?" She looked down. "I can do a lot of things, but I can't read minds." I tried to scoot closer to her. "I know, and that's always the hard part," I said. "Trust is what it comes down to, I guess." She sat back, and ran her hands through her tousled blonde hair. I couldn't help but admire her curves yet again, the way her stomach flattened when she leaned back, her shapely legs confined in tight jeans, and her chest.
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