Gage wakes me up before the sun has risen to go hiking. The twins decline joining, V muttering something about needing “beauty rest” before she rolls over and pulls her blanket completely over her head, but Langston and Wade come with us.

They’re farther ahead than me and Gage on the trail, two little bright lights in the dark forest. Their excitement is a palpable energy effused into their movements.

No one has clued me in, but from listening, I’ve gathered that the plan is to reach a certain point before the sun rises and then to run the trail back down. We aren’t running up because it’s dark and no one wants a twisted ankle.

Gage patiently keeps pace with me, our flashlights blending together to make our path brighter. We don’t talk for a long time. The thing with Gage that I’ve started to notice is, he doesn’t seem to do small talk, and I admire that about him.

I’ve always hated pointless small talk. Ruby was good at it, she could talk to anyone, but me, I find myself becoming awkward whenever I try to talk about things I don’t actually care about.

It should be frightening to be in the forest while it’s still dark. The trees loom over us like strangers, our lights only illuminating about a foot ahead.

Wade and Langston are far enough now that even when I squint, I can barely see their lights.

I can almost imagine it’s will-o’-wisps planning to lead us astray, but those only come out at night, right? Not close to sunrise.

And it’s not really eerie. A lot of times in books, the forest is described as quiet, too quiet, even during the day, but especially when it’s dark, as if the creatures are silently awaiting the next plot twist.

It’s not as quiet here. It’s not only the sounds of our breathing, and the crunch of underbrush, either. There are sounds of branches moving, of little animal feet scurrying, and the birds waking up. So many birds singing.

It should terrify me, but, well, I’m not alone, and maybe that’s what makes it not scary.

The walk doesn’t seem as long as it probably is when Gage is stopping and leading me away from the trees. Wade and Langston are sitting on a grassy ridge, with a little lantern lighting up the area.

Wade hands out paper bags to both of us and inside I find a bagel with peanut-butter, a bottle of water, and an apple. Langston passes us cups and pours something out of a large thermos in them.

I’m surprised at my first sip of the drink, I’d assumed it would be hot chocolate or tea or something, but it’s actually cold. Sweet and tasting of berries and honey, it’s refreshing after our walk in the morning humidity.

“Man, I love that fruit drink every time you make it. It always hits the spot.” Wade says, reaching for the thermos to pour himself another glass.

Gage and I eat silently as Wade and Langston talk. Without the twins around to dominate the conversation, it seems that Langston actually talks quite a lot. He starts telling us about the book he’s reading. The one I have sitting at home.

And now I’m thinking I need to try to pick it up again. He has us laughing as he describes the characters. Apparently one main character hates the other and is constantly imagining ways to kill them but in these ridiculously humorous ways that make no sense.

“We need to tell ghost stories tonight,” Wade interrupts him, “you’re the best at it.”

“I don’t know man, that time V told the story of the Kumiho had me not sleeping at all,” Langston says.

“Kumiho?” I ask.

“It’s a nine-tailed fox in Korean mythology. V’s obsessed with any sort of fairy tale or myth. She made up this story about a man finding out his wife was a Kumiho on their wedding night when she transformed and ate his liver.”

“Ruin the story for her, why don’t you?” Langston teases.

“Oh, my bad, my bad. That’s the simple version, though. V could still tell it.”

“What about that story Gage told last time?” Langston asks, and both boys turn to where Gage is slowly sipping on his drink. He blinks at them and shrugs.

“I can tell it again, or I can tell a new one.”

“Oh, we are so telling scary stories tonight,” Wade smiles.

“Can we not wait for nightfall like last time? Those get scary that late and you know I have an overactive imagination,” Langston asks with an exaggerated shiver.

“But that’s the best time. What do you say, Vi?” Wade asks me.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s referring to me. I’m still not that used to being included. Ruby’s group had a way of forgetting the quiet people. If you weren’t loud and outgoing, you didn’t join the conversation.

Other than Ruby, Brie, Samson, and Kenneth were probably the only ones that ever bothered to hear me.

“I, uhh… I don’t mind either way.” I shrug. Both boys get this strange look on their faces and then look at Gage and back to me.

“You two are so much alike.” Langston tilts his head to look at Gage again.

“That’s right! So, you’re outnumbered because you know the twins will side with me. Scary stories tonight!” Wade cheers, ignoring Langston’s comment about me and Gage.

I look over at Gage to see what he thinks, but he’s staring out over the ridge.

I turn to look in the direction he’s watching.

“Oh,” the word slips out unintentionally as I watch the sun sneaking over the distant mountains.

The soft purples and blues spread into harsher oranges and reds as light begins to touch the world around us. It’s by far the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen.

It bathes the forest and us in light. Wade and Langston’s voices fade to the background as I stare out at it.

It shouldn’t leave me in such awe – it’s a sunrise. I’ve seen them so many times.

I sense Gage sliding closer to me rather than see him.

“Sometimes seeing this reminds me of why I’m still alive.”

He doesn’t elaborate or add anything, but looking at the purple and red painted sky, I think I know what he means.