The Lineup by Quinn Meghan

Author:Quinn, Meghan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

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“I really like your version of a hike snack. You could have brought some fruit, or trail mix, or a protein bar, but no, you went straight-up savage with nutrition and packed us puppy chow, Chips Ahoy, and chocolate-covered raisins. What happened to my carrot and guac girl?”

“Your girl?” she asks, nudging my shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re sucked into my world now, which means I claim you.”

“Fair enough.” Say what? Fair enough? Does that mean she thinks she’s my girl too? We chose a spot out on a giant boulder that overlooks the lake. It’s serene, birds chirping in the background, and a few twigs snapping here and there, nothing that would cause alarm. “When I hike, I always end up famished and don’t want anything healthy. I want the bad stuff. When I was young and went on hikes at Lake Skinner with my dad, we stopped at the local 7-Eleven and bought the worst junk food possible, things my mom never allowed at home. We’d park in front of the lake, pretend to fish, and eat our snacks. Then I started bringing Emory and Lindsay with me and it became a smorgasbord.”

“You guys have been friends for a long time.”

“Yes, they’re my girls. We had a small falling out with Emory after high school, but we quickly made up for lost time. I can’t see my life without them. They’ve really helped me through some tough times.”

“Yeah? Like—” A low grumble followed by a twig snapping echoes behind us. Holding still, I ask Dottie, “What was that?” She doesn’t move either.

“That wasn’t your stomach?”

“I’m kind of wishing it was at this point.” I swallow hard. “I think you should turn around and look.”

“Me? You’re the man,” she says from the corner of her mouth.

“I’m also an equal opportunist.”

“Just look.”

“I’m too scared,” I answer as another twig snaps, this one even closer.

“I thought you said your fists are—”

Snap, snap, snap.

“Oh . . . shit.” I grip her hand, but not in the way I want to and slowly turn my head.

Standing about ten feet away is a black bear, sniffing his way to our snacks, having zero concern that there are two humans sitting like dead ducks in front of him.

“Oh Jesus. Oh God. Oh, I might shit myself,” I cry hysterically.

At that moment, Dottie turns her head as well. She stifles a screech and then starts digging around her bag, pulling out the box cutter with a shaky hand.

“Wh-what do we do?” she asks, looking terrified, almost as terrified as me, while holding the box cutter the wrong way.

“Scream bloody murder?”

“What about what you said to my dad? If the bear is black, fight back?”

I sarcastically laugh. “Okay, that was a fun rhyme to spout off to your dad, but never once did I mean it.” I slowly stand and pull Dottie up with me. I clutch her backpack in my hand like a metal shield, hold it out arm distance, and grasp her hand with mine, holding on tight.

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