The rattling fan does its best to stir the heavy summer air, the window is propped open with an old paperback, letting in the occasional warm breeze that doesn’t really help. Quiet music plays from an old radio on the trailer floor, and you’re sprawled on the narrow bed in Nat’s room, your legs tangled together.

Nat tilts her head back, lips pursed as she tries to blow smoke rings toward the ceiling. They come out lopsided and disappear almost immediately, so she lets her eyes flick to you with a lazy grin as she takes another drag.

“You know,” Nat starts suddenly, letting the smoke curl past her lips before she goes on. “I bet I could totally survive in the wild. Like, the whole live-off-the-land bullshit, y’know? Hunt, fish, forage, and all.”

“You’d last a week,” you tease, propping yourself up on one elbow.

“Excuse me?” Nat says and passes the joint your way. Her arm stretches out, letting you catch a sliver of her armpit hair as she rests her hand behind her head. “What’s your problem with me in the wild?”

“You’d give up the second you couldn’t find something to snack on,” you say, laughing as you nudge her with your shoulder.

“Wow. Way to have faith in me,” she drawls, leaning over to grab a half-empty soda can from the floor. You hold out the joint to her again, but she doesn’t take it right away. With how close she is, you can see her pupils blow wider as her eyes meet yours, and for a second, the playful banter fades. Nat holds your gaze a little too long, and you feel a shift in the air.

“What?” you ask, a little breathless. Nat shrugs casually, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Nothing. You’re just…you’re pretty, that’s all.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, leaning back against the wall beside her. “You’re so high.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she takes the joint from you. “It’s still true!”