8

Valeria believes in going with the flow — the path of least resistance.

Numerous friends but not many friend-friends? She's used to it.

Only heir to an expansive estate? No problem.

Family business which she is expected to take over one day? Fine.

Having her whole life planned out for her by others? Having to lead a life whose path has already been laid out? Having already been told which school she is to attend and what major she is to choose? C'est la vie.

Being forced to flee to other countries and cities and remote mountains and valleys to feel like she can finally breathe? No problem at all.

Because Valeria believes in going with the flow.

She has always prided herself for having been able to have mastered the art of running away. Whenever the air starts to become too suffocating, Val packs her bags, tells her dad some excuse and then flies right off to some place of isolation where no one knows who she is. Moreover, she hasn't ever fought much with whatever fate has laid out for her. Neither has she ever before felt a part of herself fighting with her passiveness, telling her to take action and reach for the steering wheel of her life.

At least not until now, that is. Not until Nicholas — the most infuriatingly complicated man Val has ever met. A galaxy full of possibilities and conundrums just there, right beside your fingertips, but also out of reach, smirking at you in that shy way that's solely his because he knows you want to know him, solve him.

He's so timid, she thinks, but also calculative. It's as if he has managed to plan out each and every single one of his actions, his words, his thoughts. And Valeria finds herself envying this trait quite a bit; considering how this has managed to make her toss and turn for the entirety of the night, leaving her unable to sleep.

What would it be like, she has been wondering, to have so much control over what happens to you?

For the first time in her life, Val finds herself feeling... lost. Lost and lonely.

Now, cocooned in her sleeping bag with mid-day approaching soon, Valeria sighs. She blows out warm air from her lips, attempting and failing to push back a strand of hair off her face.

The tent's flap zips open, revealing red painted nails, tanned skin stretching over strong and slender hands, and then Stella's small frame. "Hey there, sleepy head," she quips.

Valeria groans, shielding her face by laying her arm over it.

"Oh okay. Someone's woken up on the wrong side of bed." Stella comes to sit across from where Val is huddled up. She nudges her in the side with her foot. "C'mon then. Get out from under there, you."

When Val makes no move to end her pity party, another nudge in the ribs follows, harder this time. Valeria groans in displeasure, feeling angry and frustrated and sad.

"Stop being a grouch and get up!" Another kick comes before Stella says, "Get up before you start complaining that I've bruised your ribs."

It's this threat that finally manages to shake Valeria loose of her numbing thoughts. Instantly she gathers herself up into a sitting position, wrapping her arms round her middle for safe measures before throwing Stella a dirty look.

"You're welcome," says the raven haired girl, mirth dripping from her tone. "Now, spill."

"Huh?" Val asks, dazed.

"Spill, I said. Talk," Stella gestures animatedly. "Why'd you spend the whole night kicking and tossing up the blankets? You could've been raging a bloody war against the poor blankets for all I could see."

Valeria snorts — her first smile ever since having left the amiable yet conflictingly distressing company of Nick, last night.

She remembers then, how she'd become friends with Stella in the first place: it was again one of those rare times when she had found herself to be feeling down. And there she had been, Stella, in all her drunken glory, stumbling around the bar, trying to find her friends. Val had sat with the girl for over an hour as the both of them had waited for her friends. And in that hour, Stella had managed to cause Valeria to have stomach ache from how much she'd made her laugh with her quick wit and amusing jokes.

Some things don't change at all then, Val thinks, her lips still quirked up at the corners in the remnants of her short laugh.

"I was..." she begins, losing her words along the way. Finally she settles on saying, "I was thinking, is all. Just thinking."

"Just thinking?" Stella asks, sceptical.

Val hums in affirmation, looking down and playing with her hair. "Just thinking."

"Right," Stella drawls out her word, causing Valeria to frown in confusion. "You think about Nicholas in your sleep then? Nick and daddy?"

Flushing fifty shades of red, Val's eyes widen to the size of golf-balls. "No," she exclaims. "I was-it was..." she breathes in a large gulp of air, settling on telling Stella the truth. Or at least, most of it.

"I was just stressed about things back home..." she begins to say slowly, words stringing themselves together into coherent sentences on her tongue. "I was thinking about my dad... and stuff."

"Oh, that again, huh" Stella says quietly, thrown off track from her attempt at teasing. Though not for long since in the next moment she screws up her brows and asks, "But what about Nick then?"

Before Valeria can think of a response, Stella cuts her off. "And don't you dare think that I haven't noticed how you've been sneaking off to meet him every night," she challenges, raising her left eyebrow.

"Right. I, um," Val says, wetting her lips. "We just talk, okay? That's it. We just talk..." she runs off on her words then, as thoughts occupy her mind once again.

They do just talk. But she has noticed that Nick has a knack for reading people really well. So has he read her then? Has he managed to see through her chirpy facade, reaching right down to the core of all her problems, observing her whole life as if in a 3-D movie?

She's still muddling over these new sets of questions when Stella chips in, having latched on to what she deemed interesting. "You guys talk. Okay. Alright, that's cool with me," she says casually, though a small smile plays at her lips. "Now would you fancy coming outside to talk with the rest of us too?"

Valeria blinks and then she smiles, getting up to gather her essentials before following Stella out of the tent.

They just talk. And he observes... and predicts and nails things down real fine and close to the truth.

So what has he observed then?

~~~~~~~~~~

Hiyo guys! How are you all?

So first news comes first: WE PASSED ROUND TWO!
Through the trees is now in the final round of the Open Novella Competition, and this means that I have finish the story of this odd little group of friends before 31st Jan. We can do it... I think... I hope...

Any who. Don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts as to the progress of the story. Really. Please. Tell me how it's going thus far.

P.S. don't forget to give yourselves a pat on the back. Anyone reading this (and some friends in particular who know who they are) have helped loads in making this story capable of having passed round two. I love you. Thank you.

-zainab