Reid doesn't talk again for another few seconds. Instead, he starts helping Cash with getting the tent ready. Reid doesn't go camping at home. His parents are too busy, and nature isn't a readily accessible thing in the part of Chicago he's from. But this is his third year at Gooseberry and Sy (fuck that guy) loses his head for wilderness shit. So Reid can handle a tent and not get in the way.

"I'm sorry. About what happened." He keeps his voice low and flat. It's his natural effect, sure, but he doesn't want eavesdroppers. "I fucked up."