More Than What They See

CHAPTER 15: Deep In The Woods

Rhian’s POV

The next morning at camp, after we finished our breakfast, our teacher gathered us all together and explained our activity. We had to walk into the woods to collect different kinds of leaves, flowers, and small plants for our Science project. She divided us into small groups of four, counting us off one by one. When she finished calling out names, my heart sank—I ended up in the exact same group with Gio, Jace, and Francis.

“Stay together,” the teacher reminded us. “Do not wander off alone, and come back before the sun gets too high.”

We nodded, but as soon as we walked past the trees and were far enough away from everyone else, Gio slowed down and looked back at me with a smirk.

“It is good that it is just us here,” he said in a low voice. “No teachers watching. No one to run to.”

I walked with my head down, gripping my small basket tight, and tried to stay a few steps behind them. I kept my eyes on the ground, looking for the plants we needed, hoping they would just ignore me. When I spotted a small fern with tiny white flowers exactly like what was on our list, I bent down carefully to pick it up. Suddenly, someone shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled forward, my foot catching on a thick tree root, and I almost fell face first into the dirt.

“Watch your step!” Jace laughed loudly. “You might get hurt out here, and then everyone will blame us.”

I stood up slowly, brushing the dirt and leaves off my skirt. I looked straight at Francis, hoping he would say something to stop them. But he just stared somewhere far ahead, his face blank, like he saw nothing at all.

“Let us keep moving,” Francis said flatly, starting to walk forward. “We will be late if we stay here any longer.”

I thought they would follow him and leave me behind, but Gio stepped sideways and blocked my path completely.

“Wait a minute,” he said, holding out his hand. “Show us what you found first. It is probably wrong anyway. You probably do not even know what we are looking for.”

I hesitated, then held out the small plant I had gathered so they could see. Before I could even speak, Gio snatched it roughly out of my hand and threw it deep into the tall grass and thick bushes far away from us.

“Oops,” he said with a mocking grin. “It fell. Go look for it again.”

My hands started to shake. “I need that for our work. It is exactly what the teacher asked for.”

“We do not care,” Gio answered sharply. “Find it yourself. Or do you want us to help you look?”

He and Jace laughed and walked away, following Francis deeper into the woods, leaving me all alone surrounded by tall trees and thick grass. I stood there for a moment, scared and unsure, then started searching quickly. I was afraid of being left behind completely, afraid I would get lost, and afraid they would come back and tease me even more.

I pushed through the grass, my eyes scanning every inch of ground, but I could not find it anywhere. After a while, I heard footsteps coming back toward me. My heart jumped— I thought it was Gio or Jace coming to bother me again. But when I looked up, it was Francis.

He walked slowly, acting like he was just looking around or checking the path. He stopped a few steps away from me and crossed his arms.

“What does the thing you are looking for look like?” he asked, his voice low and careful.

I was surprised he even asked. “It is small, bright green, and has tiny little white flowers growing in clusters.”

Without saying anything else, he bent down and started searching through the grass near where Gio threw it. He moved aside leaves and small branches carefully, his eyes scanning the ground. After a short moment, he reached out, picked it up gently, and brushed the dirt off it. He walked over and handed it to me.

“Here,” he said simply.

Before I could even open my mouth to say thank you, his expression changed instantly—turning cold, distant, and sharp again. He stepped back and looked away.

“Do not fall behind,” he said firmly, like he was angry he even helped me. “If you do not find what you need, that is your own fault. And if you get lost, do not expect us to come looking for you. Let us go.”

He turned and walked ahead quickly, but he slowed his steps just enough so I could keep up with him. He never looked back, never smiled, and never acted like he had done anything kind. But as I followed him, clutching the plant tight in my hand, I knew one thing for sure—he did not help me because he had to. He helped me because he wanted to. But he would never let anyone, not even me, see that side of him.