"Fifteen dollars." The girl behind the sliding glass held out her hand. Valerie, dug through her purse and paid. She stuck a taped receipt to her windshield and drove through the Lowendale State park's gate. In the back of her car were a tent and a sleeping bag. Valerie brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. She was going camping because it was beautiful here , the weather was nice and...Well and she needed space and privacy. It had been more than a month since Jack had packed up his stuff and just left . She had come home, it was a Friday, and he was gone so was his car and all of his clothes. The bastard even emptied out their checking account. Jack was gone, but not forgotten. She knew deep inside that if he had shown up on her doorstep, she would have taken him back. After this weekend...no friends...no worries...no Jack. Valerie was certain she would be over him.
"Sure you will" a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. Her eyes narrowed. She slammed her brakes and the car jerked to a stop right by a little metal sign. Number eleven, it read.
Her tent was new a Wal-Mart fifty dollar special, the sleeping bag old and still had the smoky campfire smell, which all well used gear gathered about itself. A blue and grey dome tent, set up quickly. Stacking the kindling into a pyramid shape, and stuffing it full of newspaper, Valerie struck a match and lit it. A smile played on her red lips, Valerie was proud of herself. Here she was in the middle of the great outdoors. She glanced over at the gravel road, and the showers . Well, okay at least she was out of the house and could stop thinking about.
"Dammit!" Valerie screamed. Even here that son of a bitch still crept into her thoughts. Blushing, she glanced around. Thank God the other sites were empty.
Sparks flew up as she tossed another pine cone into the fire and crackled as the sap flared up in sudden flash.
"Hello." A voice spoke deep and softly. Valerie jerked up her head, snapping out of her thoughts. He stood, just by the Number eleven sign, the fire light danced over his body. He was wearing a light jacket and dark slacks. His clothes seemed more at home, well at home, not out in the woods at night. Valerie stood up and brushed pine needles off of her legs.
"I thought, I was the only one here." The stranger nodded his head.
"You were, I just got here, number seventeen. " Valerie looked over and saw a tent. How did she not see him, or hear him setting up.
"Too engrossed in your private pity party." The little voice whispered again from the back of her head. Valerie forced a smile to her lips.
"Valerie," she held out her hand to him. He paused, and then shook her hand.
"Yuri" His voice had a slight Russian accent.