Chapter 3: Never Getting Older.
Hey, tell your friends it was nice to meet them
But I hope I never see them again
Alaina Calline.
Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
This isn't as bad as I was expecting.
Not that it's ideal. Half my friends are gone, and most of these people I've hardly spoken three words to, but at least this dining hall isn't a total dump. Somehow this primitive place has come up with a reasonably attractive array of lunch food for us to choose from. Tall bowls of fruit and pasta salad. Simple sliders on plastic platters, and pitchers of cold lemonade and iced tea. Who knows what it will actually taste like, but at least it's not dried bugs.
Wielding a tray of salad and lemonade, I scan the room. Only a few students have sat down, the rest waiting to fill their trays. Rather than subject myself to the company of either Monica or Giles- as if- I find an empty table next to the far window. With the warmth and surprising softness of my chair, I want nothing more than to put my feet up and lounge back against it. But if there's one thing I've learned from my mother, it's that where there are other people, there will always be eyes on me. What I say and what I do are to be constantly scrutinized. The only acceptable way to act is like a lady- perfect and proper. So I keep my feet down, check my posture, and take as tiny bites as I can of my fruit- which is just a tad sour.
"Hey, loosen up, princess."
"Don't call me that."
"Sorry. Queen." Brandon slides in next to me as I roll my eyes. "Your group suck as bad as mine just did?"
"No, we were fine. Zara's kind of crazy, but it's Gerard, Eimer, Yu, Simone, and me, so we get along."
"Lucky you," he says. "I've got Rosalie- scratch that, she's fantastic- then Nico, Griff, Trina, and Harper, which doesn't sound so bad until you remember it's... Trina and Harper." He frowns. "Why do I never get the hot ones?"
"Because we're all off-limits," I say.
Blake plops down next to Brandon, a small mountain of sliders teetering precariously on his tray. "Well, Milo makes me want to stab my eyes out. How's everyone else's day been?"
"Ooh, I got to watch Gab and Chanel fight each other," Brandon says. "So that's not bad."
"I'm not surprised," I say. "They've never liked each other."
"What happened?" Eimer asks as she takes the seat next to Blake.
"One of them got tripped or something. Tripped. Can you say 'extra'?"
"Extra," Eimer says. "X-T-R-A."
I shake my head. "Eimer, honey. No."
She may be pretty, but Eimer's real charm lies in the nonsense that comes out of her mouth. It's part of why I keep her around so much. It's not like she can help it, and I love her, but come on. Next to her, I'm brilliant.
"It's because Gabrielle has zero sense of control," Blake presses on, as Wes, Simone, and Trina round out the table. "It's like if you put a raging bull inside a person and then set it on fire. Complete chaos."
"Where is she, anyway?" Nearly everyone has found a seat among the scattered tables; a few still mill around looking for their friends, but neither Gabrielle nor Chanel have made appearances. "It's no fun to talk about her when she can't be here to hear it."
"Milo's busy screaming at them outside," says Blake.
"How will that help?"
"It won't. It's only going to piss them off more."
"Exactly. You know, I wonder what kind of credentials you need to work at a place like this. I don't know how smart these leaders are, but from what I've seen and heard, everyone's been pretty rude and uptight."
"No more so than normal," I counter. "Teachers have always been… annoying."
"Not in an abusive way," he says. "I just feel like all these leaders should be a little more laid-back, seeing how we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves."
"Well, look who they're dealing with." Thirty high school seniors, absolutely aching to get the hell out of Haversmith and away from any type of authority. Largely bitter, frustrated, but just enthusiastic enough to rally against them if we wanted to. Plus, we've got rich parents. What do they have? "So does anyone know what we're doing next?"
"Someone said something about outdoor classes..." says Wes.
Simone groans loudly. "That is so unfair. Why would you let us out of school, just to make us go to another school?"
"It's the same concept as graduation, if you think about it."
Graduation. A chill tickles my neck. Less than a week away, it's no longer an abstract concept for me. My dress and shoes have been set out for a month. I've got a hair appointment for the morning of that I really should be thinking more about, but that's not what has me so excited for next Monday.
In the soft heat, I swallow a breath. The boy before me is called to muffled applause, and my heart throbs in my ears. In seconds, it will be my turn in the spotlight. My turn, finally, for the recognition I've worked so painstakingly to earn.
"Alaina Calline."
The only shouts I hear are those of my mother. I have waited so long for this, to hear her call my name.
"Guys. Look at me. Do you realize how close we are to being Haversmith grads?"
Brandon whistles. "Dare I say it, but I think I might miss the ol' place."
I laugh. "Please."
"Well, I'll miss you guys. You all make it a joy to wake up and come to class every day. How about that?"
"That's even worse," Wesley says, wrinkling his nose. "Get out of here before I sock you for being sentimental."
Bang.
Not Wesley's fist, but the door at the front of the hall.
It would appear that Gabrielle is back. And fuming.
As usual.
Just before the door slams shut behind her, a delicate hand catches it and pushes it back open. Anabel steps into the room, followed closely by Chanel, who's plastered a smug smirk across her face as she heads towards the food platters. She's faker than Eimer's chest, if you ask me, but I don't want to be too much of a hypocrite.
"Welcome back, kids," Anabel beams, stepping into the center of the tables. "Don't worry, you still have about ten minutes to finish eating. I'd just like to briefly introduce our next activity, so if you'd all give me your attention for a few quick moments…"
Brandon leans over to the next table. "This is a summer camp, yeah? What are the odds she lets us do archery?"
"Hey, I'll shoot you if you shoot me," says Yuto. Gwen smacks him.
I put a hand on Brandon's shoulder and pull him back. "Shh. I want to hear."
Anabel waits for our table to begrudgingly settle into murmurs, then coughs softly to clear her throat. "So we'll be combining groups for a couple of larger sessions. Groups One and Two will meet their leaders together outside. Three and Four are also together, and then Five and Six. It's just going to be three, half-hour stations for you all to get a basic introduction into some skills you can expect to need for our hikes. We'll have a wildlife course, survival skills, and you'll even get to test out our natural climbing wall and ropes course. So eat up, you'll want your energy this afternoon."
Chanel drops her overflowing tray down next to me. As she bends to pull a chair over, I notice a slight… wardrobe malfunction.
"Chan, your jeans…" I whisper.
"I know. Don't talk about it."
Not talking about it won't change the fact that half her ass is falling out. I wouldn't be surprised if she preferred it that way, but I'd have covered myself in an instant if it were me. It's not classy. She looks like she doesn't care what she looks like at all, and that's not the kind of thinking I can afford.
God. It's impossible to relax. Even here, where things are supposed to be easier. These are still the people that I've grown up with, and they wouldn't understand me if I suddenly became the type of girl who acts like a slob.
There are certain expectations that I act a way that is desired, regardless of how I feel. That's the best way to get people to like you- just know what they expect. You want fun? I'll give you fun. Cool and indifferent? I'm as cold as ice.
It's just scary because I've become so caught up in appearances that sometimes, I can't remember who I really am.
It takes more to relax than a few deep breaths or a cigarette. Oh, the cigarettes help, but they're dangerous to the type of reputation I maintain. Pretty, perfect girls don't poison themselves. Then again, pretty, perfect girls don't do a lot of the things I've done. I don't exactly fit the stereotype as well as I maybe should.
Pull it together, Alaina.
I take a long sip of lemonade. Carefully, cautiously. It's not comfortable being so rigid. But it's as comfortable as I can get these days.
Seraphina Corvo.
Oakland, California.
"Is it alright if I sit here?"
Harper lifts her head up from staring at her tray. Unlike some, she's never been hard to read; she doesn't care to hide her annoyance. We've hardly ever spoken, so she's not exactly my first choice of company. But without Aubrey here to pick my friends for me, I have to be a bit more assertive.
"Go ahead," she finally says. "Just don't expect a whole lot of friendliness."
I sit, trying to brush aside her hostility. Most likely, I'm not the reason for her mood. Besides, I get it. I'm quiet too. There's nothing wrong with being shy.
We chew our lunches in silence. I usually wouldn't mind the quiet, but we have so little time left to meet each other. I attempt a conversation.
"So how are you liking this camp so far?"
"Not my thing," she says simply.
"Oh. I thought it might be. You being so outdoorsy and all."
"No. There's too many people. Not enough time to be alone."
"Oh."
"It's nothing against you," she shrugs, after a long minute. "I'm just not much of a talker."
We regress into quiet again. I wouldn't have minded getting to know Harper. Nobody really understands her. But I see this isn't the place for that to happen.
Harper. Tracing circles on my plate with a fork, I try to draw my thoughts elsewhere. But that's the trouble with these long silences. You start to think too much.
Harper's the reason I'm here. Well, Harper Olson, way back home in San Francisco. I have nothing against the Harper sitting in front of me, other than the fact I wish she'd open up.
After all, it's not Harper Robbins who caused my parents to ship me off to boarding school.
It's my fault. I was foolish to let my heart come in the way of my studies and my music career. Harper and I had had a great relationship for a while, until I found out he'd been dating another girl for months. He took advantage of my naivety, and I got hurt. And now my parents want to protect me at all costs.
Haversmith is fine, I guess. I just wonder how high school would have turned out if I were allowed to form friendships with people outside of my parents' approval. If I had ever learned how to hold a decent conversation…
Bang. Gabrielle storms into the room, shocking the other tables into silence, and our table into… well, we're already as quiet as we can be. Without even glancing over at the lunch buffet, she throws herself down in a chair next to Quincy, Giles, and Nico.
I feel bad for her. As terrifying as she may be, she's got to be deeply unhappy with herself to act out all the time. And even from here, I can tell that the other three- her only "friends" here- are leaning away from her ever so slightly.
Harper just rolls her eyes.
After Anabel's announcement, and about ten more awkward minutes, we're finally dismissed to rejoin our groups. "So, I'll see you around, maybe?" I offer, grabbing her tray for her.
"Probably. It's not like there's anywhere to go." She disappears in the mass of students heading back outside.
The other tables have left a mess. It doesn't seem right. Confident that at least no one will think any less of me for doing this- I'd be surprised if anyone thinks of me at all, at this point- I join the kitchen staff in clearing the room. Trays and pitchers go in the bins in the back, but the plates will have to be scraped off into the garbage. Only two plates in, I feel a hand press on my shoulder.
"Go outside, girl. We'll take care of this."
I turn to see a harsh-looking Latina woman staring at me. She reaches for the plate, but I wait to hand it to her. "It's a pretty big task."
"Nothing I'm not used to," she says coolly. "What's your name?"
"Seraphina." For a second, I think I see a flicker of recognition, but it's gone before I can think much of it. "...What's yours?"
"Sonique," she says, furrowing her brow, then relaxes. "Look, I'll take this. Don't worry about us. Your group is probably waiting for you."
Wouldn't be surprised if they've already left without me. "I guess…"
Come on, Sera. Would it kill you to have a bit of confidence right now?
Probably.
She takes the plate and heads into the back. "Thank you…" I add. Half-heartedly, I head outside.
My group is waiting outside the door. As I come up, Baptiste just shakes his head, but thankfully decides against belittling me in front of everyone. "Alright, come on, kids. Down to the lake."
The best I get from most people is half a glance. Jeremiah and Madison, at least, offer me a small smile. I wish I'd been chosen for their group instead… but then again, would either of them talk to me, either?
The others in my group- Wes, Gwen, Chanel, and Quincy- aren't really approachable. Quincy has always been a Class-A jerk to everyone. Wes is funny, but not in an easy-going way- more at others' expense, or with a darker undertone. Chanel is scary loud. And Gwen… I don't know. I get mixed messages from her. On one hand, she's been friendly enough to help me with classwork before, at least until Aubrey shooed her off. Then again, she's a bit of a rebel compared to the girls I'm used to, and has little respect for our professors. And she'd never have patience for my underconfidence.
As for the other group, their leader looks as arrogant as Baptiste. I hate to make too many judgements, but my observations are more often than not spot-on. Jackson has been in a number of my advanced courses, and I'd like to avoid him as much as possible. Alex isn't really mean, but he's unpredictable and a little intimidating, honestly. Audrey has always been a pretty genuine person, but she's usually plugged into her phone or a computer and isn't known for her friendliness. Besides, she's looked irritated ever since we got here. I don't want to make that any worse.
Jeremiah and Madison would be the obvious choices, if only they weren't already deep in conversation. I don't want to intrude. I'd hate to be a liability.
So I walk alone in the back. It's not like lonesomeness is anything new.
We reach the other side of the water in about fifteen minutes. Baptiste and the other leader sit us down in the grass, along with four other adults, who I hadn't noticed walking behind us. They're not teachers from Haversmith, so they must be some of the other staff we saw earlier this morning.
They drop their bags in front of us, pulling out thinly wrapped brown books. Notebooks. Jackson passes them down, and as I receive mine, I tear open the plastic and gently inhale its scent. Mmm. I wouldn't call myself a true bookworm- that honor is reserved for people the likes of Gerard and Dane, and sheet music is my preferred material, of course. But it's hard not to feel reinvigorated, inspired even, by the smell of new paper.
"Don't lose these," says Milo. "You'll be needing them all week for notes, which I highly suggest taking, and mandatory reflection questions. It's all for your own good, really, so you'd better take care of it."
Lose this? I'm not so careless as to lose the only companion I might have this week. As Jackson hands the pens down next, I take mine and grip it to my chest, hugging it.
As the leaders start their lecture, I try my best to find some interest in the topic of local flora. But with the other students yawning all around me, and no Aubrey here to scare me into flawless focus, I soon find myself getting distracted. First, by a crow out by the lake, dipping its head to bathe. Then, by Alex, who's drifting off and keeps having to shake himself awake. Finally, by Baptiste. While Milo speaks, he glances over each of us with narrowed eyes. Before I can look away, he's caught mine, and I fight the urge to shudder before he passes to the next student.
I really should be listening.
But I can't right now. I want to blame Milo, Baptiste, and the other adults for not engaging us. Jackson is the only one who's genuinely asking questions, but they aren't providing great answers to his questions. Jackson's always been relentless, but he seems especially uncomfortable with the fact that he's not getting the answers he wants.
But I'm being foolish. They're not the ones at fault. If I were just more disciplined… more focused… I would never have had to be here, feeling uncomfortable and one hundred percent alone among fifteen other people. I would be home with Mom and Dad, and with my friends from the conservatory, going to a normal school with people who don't have to control everything I do. Because I'd be able to control myself.
Focus, Sera.
I put my head down and write. Notes won't solve everything, but they're a good place to start.
Harper Robbins.
London, United Kingdom.
The chatter of the girls in line in front of me is giving me a headache. Really, I don't get what motivates people to talk in such high pitches. Or why they have so much to talk about. I don't mean to sound resentful about it, because I'm not. I just can't imagine living so... outwardly.
Only three more people, and then it's my turn for the climbing wall. The leaders have been a little too cautious with everyone for my liking, carefully hooking everyone in, triple-checking helmets, and making sure everyone climbs nice and slowly. It's tedious to watch, especially since, as far as I'm concerned, the chance to climb is the only reason for me to be here.
Let me be frank. Too many people in my group are suspiciously happy about this sudden change in plans. I'm not a pessimist by nature but I'd have to argue that this is not the best thing that's ever happened to us at Haversmith. Anyone with half a mind would agree. I was perfectly fine with the routine of this week- going to class, leaving, relaxing, going to sleep. I had no time to prepare for going to a dumpy summer camp, and because of that, I've been off-balance all day.
I need to climb. Climbing feels normal. And I need some normal.
Simone is next up. Looking disappointed to have her deeply interesting conversation with Alaina cut off- I heard my own name a bit too often for it to have been anything good- she trots forward to Zara and Chanchai, two of our leaders. We're kept at a moderate distance from the wall, so I can't make out what she says to them. But as soon as Simone turns her back and starts making her first efforts up the wall, Chanchai makes a gagging motion, and Zara even cracks a thin smile. At least everyone can agree about Simone.
She struggles, painfully, to reach even the third row of handholds. Five minutes later, it seems, Chanchai finally makes her come down. Why Simone even wanted to climb in the first place is beyond me. If she wanted to impress anybody, that idea was lost the second she tried to put her helmet on backwards. As soon as she's out of the harness, she scurries off towards the ropes course. Presumably to find more attention elsewhere.
After Alaina, it's finally my turn. As soon as I step up, my arms are seized, and I'm forcefully attached to the holster. I don't need the added protection- I've done this so many times on actual rock faces that it's all a bit ridiculous- but as suspected, both of the women ignore my protests. Well, who cares. At least I get to climb.
It's second nature for me; what I was made for. Even in jeans and converse, my limbs fill in the practiced movements with hardly any thought. But hardly thirty seconds in, Zara is calling me down.
"Are you kidding? Simone was up here for ages."
"That's as far as you can go."
She's right. The anchor sits only a few feet above my head, and that's where the cord ends. I can tell now that the majority of the wall goes unused. It's a waste of a perfectly good tall wall.
"It's a little low, don't you think?"
"Any higher, and it becomes unsafe."
"Unsafe? I've climbed real rock faces twenty times higher than this."
"So you're special. Big deal."
There's nowhere for me to go. Half-heartedly, I make my way back down to earth.
At the bottom, Zara rips the harness off me, then directs me towards the end of the line. And by "directs," I mean she shoves me in the opposite direction. "Next!"
Doing my best not to sulk so openly, I slide back in line behind Griffin and Nico. "You sure this is safe?" Griffin is whispering, as Gerard steps up to the wall. "Remember what happened... last year?"
"Sure it's safe," Nico says, hushed. "The odds of someone falling twice are pretty low."
"But they both fell. That really doesn't help…"
Last year, Maxwell and Ross Archer, who would have been college freshmen this year, were killed after falling from the school's climbing wall. All most people know is that Mr. Hanes, one of the athletics teachers, wasn't paying enough attention. But I think people blame Mr. Hanes a little too much. Everyone knew the Archer twins were the biggest jackasses in the school. Mr. Hanes was a great teacher if you just listened to what he had to say.
The truth is that mountaineering is as dangerous as you want to make it. If either boy had a speck of common sense in them, and maybe not tried to climb all the way to the top while Mr. Hanes was distracted, they could have survived. There wouldn't be all these crazy safety measures in everything we do. Things at school would be a lot simpler, that's for sure.
I don't mean to be so offhand about it. Death is serious, and we were all shaken up after word got out about it. Because the school has always tried to keep everything quiet, of course. Can't risk tainting their pristine reputation with a couple of deaths. No, it's all about image here.
I'd be more comfortable just about anywhere else. Everyone here is so annoyingly uptight. It's not natural.
This year can't go quickly enough. Neither can Griffin, poor kid, who's climbing painfully slowly compared to Gerard. I have to remind myself that I'm the only one here who has this experience and the full body strength that allows me to climb so easily. It really takes a lot out of you if you're not in good shape. Finally, as soon as he can, Griffin has descended the wall and is off to explore the ropes course. Nico stares up at the wall for a few seconds, thinks better of it, and follows after Griffin.
Which means it's my turn again.
As Chanchai hitches me in again, a wild thought comes to mind. It's risky, definitely. Actually, there's no sugar-coating it- it's a god-awful idea that could very well make me the next great Haversmith fatality. And yet, it's useless being here and practicing the most basic maneuvers when I've scaled cliff faces far higher than the school's seven stories. I need risk. I thrive off it.
The movements are the same, so I make it to the anchor, no problem. At Zara's request for me to descend, I instead reach back for the rope. I'm lucky the knot is already so loose, because it makes it so much easier to unhook myself entirely.
By the time Zara comprehends the madness of what I've just done, I'm too high up for her to catch me.
I've still got a helmet on. Believe me, I'm not that stupid. It covers my head the way it's meant to, but I wish it would cover my ears a bit better, so I wouldn't have to suffer through the furious screaming from the adults below. Instead, I have use distance to quiet their shouting. It's so easy, once I'm up here. I pause to take a deep breath. This is what we need from each other in our last few days together. Not constant contact. We all just need space.
My epiphany is gone in seconds. That short-lived exhilaration is quickly consumed by the terrifying realization of the predicament I've put myself in. I've made it up here… but for what? Where do I go? And then I really start thinking, why did I just get rid of the only thing that can save me if I fall?
I'm not afraid of heights. It's just that usually, there's something that will be there to catch me. A rope, a padded floor, maybe a spotter, depending on where I'm practicing. I've never seen someone climb this high unassisted before. I guess I'm the only one stupid enough to.
Remembering I have no form of a safety net is what really sets me panicking. Yes, I knew it was rash, I knew it was risky, but I'm typically right about the kinds of risks I take. I didn't realize it would be this bad.
I hate to admit my mistakes. It takes a lot for me to recognize that what I did was the wrong thing. But being a three-second fall from almost certain death can humble anyone.
"I'm sorry!" I call down. "You were right! I'm coming down!"
I start moving back down. It's painfully slow work. I regret making fun of Simone now because I've got to be going slower than her, with my body as tense as it is, and how careful I have to be. There's some dirt in my eye, too, that burns like crazy. But I can't itch it. Can't take either hand off this wall. Can't even tune in to the ruckus below, as I'm sure they're still screaming at me to stop being an idiot, or something. For all I can tell, they may all be silent. For me it's just the roaring of blood in my ears and a repetitive mantra: One step at a time. One step at a time.
My palms are so clammy, it's a wonder I'm still hanging on. Every time my heart beats, I feel it in my hands, in my throat, and behind my eyes. This is what you live for, I try to assure myself. Where's the fun without a little danger?
I can't take this. For a second, I reach to scratch the dust from out of my eye, and still rubbing, I stick my foot out for a foothold that isn't there. Before I can react, I'm sliding straight down towards the ground.
Yuto Ebisu.
Naha, Okinawa Prefecture, Japan.
"Hey, help me up, bitch."
"That's a fat joke, coming from you."
Trina rolls her eyes. "Just give me a hand. Not everyone here has chunky ass shoulders for climbing."
"Whose chunky shoulders are you talking about?" Slowly, I pull her up from the rope ladder and onto the platform. She's not very heavy- her size belies her attitude- but she's gripping the rungs with her left hand all the way up, fighting my efforts to help her. Just because she can. "You could make this a little easier on me, you know."
"Quit being a pussy, Yu."
"Guess not."
She ignores me, shakily getting to her feel. At least, she pretends to ignore me. But I've seen this look way too many times. Even as she turns her head the other way, looking across the rope bridge, I can see her checking me out of the corner of her eye. Looking to see if I know she's too important to pay attention to me. It's cute. Not. "They expect us to climb across that...?"
"It's a bridge. Really not that hard."
"Do you see what it's made out of? Do you know how easily I could fall? What happens then?"
"Then you snap your neck and we all get to go home."
A gust of wind picks up, rattling the leaves of the trees around us. The bridge swings. There's a rough creaking, too, and looking up I find that the rope tying our bridge to the trees is groaning.
I'm a thrill seeker. Don't get me wrong. But a creaky rope bridge twenty feet in the air is pretty sketch.
Trina shivers. "First to go. Lucky me."
"Keep it moving," growls Rosalie from down below.
"Why are we even up here?" continues Trina. "This is so stupid. I don't want to be doing dumb exercises at some crusty old campsite just because Haversmith can't afford a real class trip."
"You wanted to get up here so you could shit talk in peace." If today had gone to plan, I would be high out of my mind right now. Instead, I'm high up in the air with a girl who never shuts her mouth about other people. "So you might as well get on with it, because sweet Rosalie is going to wring our necks if we keep blocking the line."
"I didn't realize it was this high..."
"Yeah. That's the point." But she's gone quiet suddenly, and won't take her eyes off the ground. "T. You okay?"
"Of course I'm okay." She meets my gaze with narrowed eyes. "I'm not the pussy here." Still, even with a harness attached, she's hesitant to take a step onto the rope bridge.
"I said move it, Kellington!"
"Chill out!" I call down. "She's not comfortable. Don't try to force her to do something when she's not ready."
Rosalie crosses her arms. "You shouldn't have gone up there if you were too scared."
"I'm not scared," whines Trina. "It's just not stable."
"You have five seconds to step off that platform or I'm bringing you down."
"You really want us to rush across this and break our necks?" I yell. "Because trust me, that's the last thing you need."
"Stop it," says Trina. "Jesus. I'm going."
We get off the platform, though Trina seems to be moving as slow as possible. I look down. At the other end, Simone is starting to climb up, and making surprisingly good time on the rope ladder. "Trina, I don't care how much you hate this, but if Simone catches up to us, you're going to wish you had fallen when you had the chance."
That finally gets her moving.
"I don't know how you deal with her at all," says Trina. "I couldn't handle her at lunch. You have to be in a group with her all week." Her renewed anger fuels her towards the other side.
"She's actually not that bad if you just give her a chance."
She stops, turns around, and laughs straight in my face. "Trust me, Yu, I've been patient with that girl since freshman year. She is so conceited and stuck up and- look, no one even likes her. They just hang out with her because she's pretty."
"You hang out with her."
"Not because I want to! It's like she's stalking me or something."
"Right." We finally reach the opposite platform. Now, we're facing the thick rope wall. Theoretically, you're supposed to climb sideways across it- at least, that's what I'd assume- but it looks like the person ahead of us has abandoned that idea. "Brandon, what are you doing?" I laugh.
"Just hanging around, dude." Brandon flashes a toothy grin- upside down, it just looks like a strange grimace, especially with his face so red. "Head kinda hurts, though."
"Get off. We're coming through."
"Sure, whatever you say." He tries to flip backward, but gets his foot caught and dangles for a second before finally falling off. He hangs mid-air for a few moments before Rosalie finally notices.
"Prescott! Get back on the ropes and quit fooling around!"
"She's just pissed that I'm not fooling around with her," Brandon winks, then continues across the ropes.
Trina just shakes her head. "Real classy, boys..."
I take the lead now, stepping off and grabbing ahold of one of the rope links. The wall is stronger than I suspected, and with our harnesses, we're sturdier than I thought. Trina still looks nervous, though, even with that shaky bridge behind us. "Give me your hand, T. It's not that bad."
She takes a step out, arm outstretched. As she's about to grab my hand, I pull back, and she slips. Screaming, she misses the rope and falls about five feet before her harness catches her.
I grin. "Karma's a bitch."
"I will murder you," she hisses.
As she swings back toward the wall and starts climbing up, I hear shouts from down below. It's not Rosalie this time, or even the other students waiting for the ropes course. They're coming from the opposite end of the area, where that immense climbing wall has been set up. Neither Trina nor I had much heart for rock climbing, hence why we're here instead. But someone's on it, and my heart drops when I realize she's not harnessed in.
"Oh my God. Trina."
"I see her. I'm not stupid."
"Who is that?" It's a brown-haired girl, and the only brunette in my group is Simone. And she's on the bridge.
"It's… Harper. Right? She's in my group."
"Harper…"
"You know her. Never says a word. What the hell is she doing?"
As we watch Harper slowly descend the wall, suddenly she loses her grip. Her hands scratch at the wall for something, anything, to catch her. Trina screams.
Forgetting our caution on the ropes, we swing across to the other end and drop down the ladder, unclipping each other's helmets and harnesses at the bottom. We race across the field, but by the time we get to the base of the wall, Harper's already on the ground.
It's impossible to guess what happened with so many people crowding her. So I grab the first person I see who's watching from a distance.
"Nico. What happened?"
He turns around, wild-eyed. "It was crazy. She just went up there without being tied in or anything- I mean she had a helmet, so that's good, but then she slipped. Luckily she wasn't too far from the bottom, but she landed pretty hard…"
"Out of the way," bellows Zara. "Kids, I swear to God, if you don't give me some room to work here-"
When everyone backs up, I get my first look at Harper. She's sitting up, leaning against one of the other leaders. Her face is pale, eyes wide, bloodshot, as she holds her ankle. Her fingers are bloody.
"What kind of idiot-"
"Don't start," groans Harper.
"How about, don't try to boss me around with your self-righteous attitude." Zara's face is red, hands trembling. "Do you realize what you could have done? Your stupidity could have just killed you. Not to mention, landed us in a fat lawsuit that we really don't need at this point." If I didn't think Zara's hair was so important to her, she'd probably be ripping it out right now.
"Zara, that's great and all, but my hands are completely torn up," she says. "And my ankle is kind of killing me, so sorry if I'm not really focusing on right now. Maybe try lecturing me after I get cleaned up..."
Two of the other staff help her to her feet, then help her hobble away down one of the paths. Back to camp, I assume.
Zara turns to the rest of us, eyes ablaze. Something tells me she's not through with Harper. "Let this be your warning. You follow our rules, or you will face the consequences. And trust me, you don't want to see my bad side."
"She treats us like we're all horrible people," Trina hisses in my ear. "It's Harper's fault for being fucking crazy."
To be honest, I can't blame Harper for what she did. It's not her fault for wanting to break out of this system. It's stupid that they're trying to protect us so much, and acting so strict whenever anyone tries to have any fun. No one signed up for this, so we shouldn't be forced to follow their guidelines if we don't want to. If there's one thing I hate, it's being treated like a little kid.
An alarm rings out through the trees, signalling the end of this activity. I really, really don't want to be a follower and give in to this cruel scheduling, especially after being inspired by Harper's example. But if everyone else is going, then I'm not going to be the one loser left behind.
Besides, there will be plenty of other chances for me to have some fun. So without another thought, I follow Brandon and Trina into the trees.
Gerard Colson.
Springfield, Massachusetts.
"So you just have to place your hands like this…"
"Why?" Eimer asks. "What do I do it for?"
"So that you can scrape this flint at the right angle-" I demonstrate- "and then you've got a spark. Not too bad, huh?"
"I think I got it." After a few unsuccessful tries, she produces a spark. Her tiny teepee catches for a few moments until the breeze blows it out. "Hmm. Try again?"
"Go for it. You've got this, E," I smile. She really tries. And she's one of the nicest people I've met here, genuinely. "Oh, and by the way, you're going to want to scoop out some more room for your campfire. Maybe put some rocks around it? Otherwise, you could burn down the whole forest."
She hastens to fix her fire. A ways down the line, Griffin curses. "Hey, does anyone get this?" he asks, and sees me. "Gerard?"
My fire is blazing on my end. Alaina was nice enough to agree to watch it for me while I helped Eimer. I don't want to keep her waiting, but I picked up the skill fairly quickly, and it's only fair I help out some of the slower learners. "What's up?" I say, kneeling next to him.
"My fire keeps going out," he frowns, poking at his kindling with the charred end of a stick. "I know how to start it and all, but how did you keep yours burning?"
"Okay, let me see what you did."
He shows me his process- he has enough dry kindling and flint shavings, and I see his spark take up for a few moments before dying. "You're doing everything right," I say. "You just have to be a bit more active right after your fire catches. Blow on it a little- gently- and then slowly add more fuel."
A little skeptical, he nonetheless tries another spark. I'm pleased to see his flame take up, and as he blows on it, it starts to burn the surrounding sticks. Soon, he's got a good-sized fire going.
"Oh, cool!" he says. Then, looking up, he nods his head. "Thanks."
"Sure thing," I shrug.
I return to my station. Alaina has done a good job tending it, but it needs a bit more fuel. After stooping to recover some wayward branches- the forest luckily has no shortage of kindling- I turn to Arron, one of the other staff members, who has been silently overseeing us for the past twenty or so minutes. "Sorry to bother you," I say. "But do you think it's better to add more twigs or bigger logs if I want a stronger fire?"
For a second, he doesn't look at me. I have a feeling he's in a kind of permanent zone, focus frozen on the already proven troublemakers. The ones who have been giving him trouble since we got here. Even through the slow Wildlife station, no one acted out like Harper did back at the climbing wall, but we've all been pretty rowdy overall. I feel a little bad for him- I wouldn't want to be chaperoning a bunch of high schoolers, either! Then again, we're not all bad, if you give us a chance to prove ourselves. Who can blame us for wanting to lash out a little early on?
"Just try both," he finally says, although he won't look at me. "Use whatever burns better."
That helps, I think, but I thank him anyway and get back to tending my fire. I don't want to push him. He's probably had a pretty rough day so far. Besides, it's better to learn sometimes when you give yourself the chance to make mistakes.
After another ten minutes of basically making sure my fire doesn't burn the skin off my hands, Zara comes around and checks our progress. While mine is definitely burning, it's nothing prepared to Griffin's, whose flame towers above the rest. Unfortunately, only six of us look like we've followed the directions. Simone, Yuto, and Trina have nothing but a cluster of pebbles and twigs to show for the last twenty-five minutes of work. Although I'm not sure Zara would call their loud argument over whether Harper has attention-seeking problems work, exactly. ("She's said three words total this whole year in Physics." "But she jumped off a fucking rock wall!") Zara's jaw clenches at their meager piles.
"You all don't do a very good job of following directions, do you?"
"You could have been more clear," shrugs Simone. "It was too hard."
"Too hard?" She turns to me. Oh, great. I know she saw me helping people, which technically, I wasn't supposed to do, but why not help? This isn't a competition. "Colson, did you have any trouble with the instructions?"
"I mean, a little," I say. "I had to experiment a bit to figure out what worked."
"He just got it because he's smart," says Trina.
"No, he got it because he pays attention." Zara sighs, rubbing her eyes. "I'd raise my voice again, but I really don't have the energy at this point…"
That's when Simone starts screaming. Yuto has stuck a stick in Brandon's fire, and used it to set her hair ablaze.
For Zara, the ending bell can't come soon enough, although she probably would have dragged us all back to camp herself if she'd had to. It's a short walk back, luckily. Simone, whimpering and clutching at the small blackened piece of her ponytail, won't accept any consolation from her friends. She'll be able to fix it with a slight trim, no problem, but I can't tell her that just yet. She'll take it too hard.
"Into the lodge," Zara calls out as we approach camp. "Everyone grab your bags and drop them in the cabin marked on your bag tag. And be quick with it, for God's sake."
Inside, with the doors spread open, the lodge is way less creepy than it was this morning. I hand people their bags off the pile until I find my own, marked with a B. "Anyone else in B?"
Blake, who's just been given his bag, holds it up. "I'm B!"
"Yes!"
I follow him outside and down the stairs to the left. The cabins appear to be arranged in something of an arc, with a couple sprinkled in the center. "Here we are," he says, and pushes open the door.
It's even smaller inside than it looks on the outside. A bunk bed is pressed against the far wall, with the other single bed next to the door on the left. Other than that, it's just a small side table and a set of shelves. Bookshelves. I can't wait to search the stacks, but there are more pressing matters at hand. I set my bag down.
"Which bed do you want?"
"Doesn't matter to me," Blake says. "Let's just ask whoever else comes in."
As we wait, I check my bag on the single bed. There's no reason to suspect anyone's been tampering with it- our belongings have been locked in the lodge since we've been gone, right?- yet I can't shake the feeling that something's not right. Finally, I pull out my water bottle. That's what's strange. It's been emptied.
"Hey, Blake."
"What's up?"
"Do you know if someone went through our bags while we were gone?"
"Not one of us," he says. "They were on the bus, and then someone must have brought them into the lodge while we were all eating or something. Why, are you missing something?"
"No, it's just… my water," I say, puzzled. Everything else is intact, and I still have my bottle. I don't understand. "Check yours. I wonder if the leaders were looking for more phones or something."
He opens his bag on the rug in the middle of the room. A few seconds later, he curses, finding something missing. "Cigarettes. Those were expensive, too…"
"You smoke?"
"Sometimes," he says. "Wasn't planning on it today. But everyone knows they check dorms for stuff when you're off campus."
There's a knock on the open door, and Brandon saunters in. "What's going on in here, boys?"
If he was expecting high-fives and good humor, he doesn't get it. "Brandon, look through your bag," I say. "Both of us are missing things."
He empties his backpack on the floor. Despite the serious mood, I have to stifle my laughter at the mountain of condoms he's packed in the front pocket. "Really?"
"Gotta wrap it before you tap it," he winks. "Oh, no…"
"What?"
"I'm not going to say what I had… but it's gone."
"So the leaders took all our stuff," says Blake. "They can't do that."
"I hate to say it…" I wince. "But they can. Technically. If it's something that goes against academy rules or threatens another student. Or, in this case, any electronics."
"Not fair," huffs Blake.
"Wait a second," says Brandon. "You got something taken, too. What did you have that was illegal?"
"Mine's nothing exciting. Just weird. All they did was pour out my water."
"Well, then we know what their motivation was," he says.
"Yes…?"
"To be dicks," he laughs. "Thieves wouldn't waste their time pouring your water out. They literally just want us to hate our lives."
"So you don't think it's something we should worry about."
"Oh, no, we definitely should. We're going to steal our stuff back. Eventually. But first, we should go find our small groups. I'm pretty sure I hear Rosalie calling out for me..."
"Keep dreaming, buddy," says Blake.
They walk out. As their footsteps drift off, a smile tugs at my lips, relief washing over me. Nothing to worry about. The leaders just want us to be safe. And we are. I've got a safe place to sleep and two cool roommates to share it with me.
There's no reason to expect anything less than fun from this trip. They said it's going to be what we make of it. And so far, I'm feeling pretty optimistic.
Song: Closer by The Chainsmokers.
I could leave a long author's note to boost my word count like last time, but I'll spare you having to read another long essay :)
Basically, volleyball's done, 8 of my 9 college apps will be done by January 1, and best of all, I'm taking a creative writing course next semester, which means my writing time will essentially triple in the next few months. Don't expect scheduled updates or anything crazy like that, but as this story picks up, I suspect I'll be able to update more than once every three months. I'm excited for that.
Thanks for your patience (again)! See you next chapter.