Free The End of the World by Amy Matayo

task.
    I tear my eyes away and try really hard to shake off my melancholy thoughts. Watching the slow moving lake almost always works. Now is no exception. And come to think of it, Cameron’s right.
    “It really does seem like the end of the world if I squint hard enough. Like maybe we’re the last two people who exist and everyone else is gone forever. Kind of like Adam and Eve if Adam and Eve had lived next to a boat dock.”
    I hear Cameron smile in the darkness. “Except I doubt Adam and Eve spent all their free time making peanut butter sandwiches.”
    “Or folding laundry. That right there would have been the upside of wearing fig leaves.”
    This time Cameron laughs. A loud laugh like he’s just heard the funniest joke of his entire life. It’s the first time I’ve heard the sound. I hope it isn’t the last.
    “But can you imagine eating all those apples?” he says. “And then the juice running down your chin and landing on your…stomach?”
    I blush. “So maybe we should stick to wearing shirts.”
    “Deal. We’ll wear shirts, and I’ll keep helping you fold the laundry. Everything but your nasty underwear.”
    “It isn’t nasty, but you have yourself a deal.” We shake. Our smiles hold and then fade. And then reality settles over us like it wants to hang its feet over the edge of the dock, too. My sigh escapes before I can stop it.
    The kids. I’ve been gone thirty minutes and have no idea who is taking care of the kids. It doesn’t matter that the job is meant for someone twice my age with an affinity for small humans or that taking care of them around the clock leaves me exhausted and pondering the idea of becoming just another statistical runaway again. The job is mine, and someone has to do it.
    I reach for my sneakers and undo the laces, then begin to pull them on.
    “Where are you going?” Cameron asks. Disappointment rings in his voice like a flat note on an out-of-tune piano. Considering his words have surprisingly managed to soothe me like one of Mozart’s symphonies in the last three days, I don’t like the way it sounds.
    “Back to the house. Everyone will wonder where we are.” I make a bow and tie my last shoe.
    “Maybe we should let them wonder.” His words are a hand grenade, his meaning a finger on the pin, daring me to pull…to hold my breath, toss caution to the wind, and risk an explosion.
    Too bad I know explosions are messy. Too bad I’ve never been that brave.
    “We can’t. I can’t leave Maria too long or—” I catch myself before finishing the thought, partly in a desire not to scare Cameron, but mostly because I know the consequences if word travels. I can’t risk the fallout of my choices.
    I stand and brush boat dock dust off the back of my jeans. Right by a huge body of water, and these planks of wood somehow manage to be the dirtiest things around. I look down at Cameron and try not to fidget at his open scrutiny.
    “Why can’t you leave Maria?” When I say nothing, he stands up and tries again. “Tell me Shaye. I might be younger than you, but I’m not stupid.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maria is fine.” I take a step away but he circles my wrist with his fingers and doesn’t let go. I try to shake him off but stop when I see the determined look in his eye. Odd that I’m not afraid. But that doesn’t mean I want him to know.
    “Tell me, Shaye. What is happening to you? To her? I have an idea, and I can make a few guesses…”
    “Let go of me, and keep your guesses to yourself. Nothing is going on.” Cameron releases my wrist and I jerk my arm away. “Maria is only three. She’s fine.”
    “Age doesn’t matter if you’re being raised by a psycho. And what about you?”
    “What about me?”
    “What’s he doing to you?”
    He.
    Nameless.
    But not nameless at all.
    I stand and stare at Cameron, knowing but not quite believing that he has found the hole. He’s stumbled face first into Wonderland and he may never