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SATURDAY MORNING -FIELDTRIP DEPARTURE DAY
"I just said I don't think she's so bad." Ｃｈｒｉｓ says shrugging.
"Are we talking about the same Courtney who slammed a tray full of hot mashed potatoes on your face just because you tried to get a fork in the lunch line?" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ asks incredulous.
"She said 'thanks'"
"So what? she said 'thanks' big deal. I still think she's a bitch." Toms says. He then grabs a mini-basketball and tosses it to a to-scale basket on the door of Sebastian's room.
"Yeah but still, there's something about her. I don't know what, it's like, I don't know." Ｃｈｒｉｓ says not able to describe the tingly sensation that went off in his body when he looked into Courtney's eyes and she looked back.
"Whatever Ｃｈｒｉｓ, I just want go off to the mountain and have a nice relaxed weekend with no bad-attitude Courtney to ruin it." Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ says kicking a fully packed duffel bag. They had all decided to meet at Sebastian's house so that it'd be easier for the outdoors' club van to pick them up.
"Yeah me too, I can't believe in a couple of hours we'll be at Hightrails mountain. In a cozy wood cabin with a warm fire blazing in front of us." Tom says
already envisioning the cabin.
"Hey guys look at this corny website." Sebastian says laughing.
The others gather around his old computer. "A fortune telling website?" Ｃｈｒｉｓ reads out loud.
"Oh look! It lets you ask it about one thing for free." Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ says excited. "Hey Bastian, why don't you type in 'weekend in the mountain'" she says tapping his shoulder savagely.
Sebastian types it in anxious to please Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ and then clicks on the fortune foretold button.
A page-long poem appears in front of their eyes and Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ bangs her fists on Sebastian's shoulder. "Oh this is so exciting!" she begins to read when a HONK! goes off and Sebastian's mother calls.
"Sebastian, baby, your bus is here!"
"Print it out! Print it out!" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ screams and Sebastian forces a quaky finger to click on the print button.
They all pick up their bags in a hurry and pull them up to their shoulders ready to leave. Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ rips the page out of the printer and runs out.
They all rush to the door and collide on each other. A bit dazzled but still
conscious they push their way out and half roll down the stairs.
Sebastian's three-year-old sister, Casey, comes out from the living room screaming, "Earthquake! Earthquake!"
Sebastian's mother laughs as she watches the stampede of kids hurry down her stairs. She hugs Casey to her legs, "It's just Sebastian and his friends, honey, don't be scared." says Mrs. Martin.
"Bye mom!" Sebastian screams on his way out to the door.
"Bye Mrs. Martin," the others say in unison as they scramble their way out the door and pull their stuck up bags through the narrow doorway.
They make their way to the bus and run to the door gasping for air.
"Kids, for goodness sake, I would have waited for you!" Mr. Whitaker says, his blue eyes bulging out of their sockets as he puts a check next to their names.
They all find their seats in the bus and parade to the back embarrassed by their stood-up hair and sweaty clothes. "Why did we rush so much anyway?" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ wonders.
She sits on the second seat from the back. Tom looks eager to sit next to her but Sebastian beats him to it and he ends up sitting next to Ｃｈｒｉｓ on the seat behind.
Once the bus is on the go Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ scrambles for the wrinkly paper. It was still warm from the printing and she opens it eagerly.
"What does it say?" Ｃｈｒｉｓ asks.
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ flattens it against the back of the seat and begins to read as she holds it with shaky hands still agitated from the marathon-worthy run.
"I can't see!" Ｃｈｒｉｓ complains from the back. Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ holds it up and makes sure everyone can see it clearly. Once all eyes are fixated on the paper she begins to read herself.
The kids run, a girl jumps
The bus starts and so they go
A flawless trip it seems to be
Until an unsure girl trips on her feet
She jumps off to abridge life
She jumps off scared of life
Guarding a dark secret
Everyone despises her
Everybody admires him
Everyone hates her
Everyone loves him
And yet
No one knows her
Her identity is his identity
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ reads the poem over and over again not quite understanding what it says. "Wow, that's scary." Ｃｈｒｉｓ says. "Do you guys get it we're the kids that ran and Sebastian's sister jumped, 'cause she thought we were an earthquake."
"Bastian, is this some kind of joke?" Ｃｈｒｉｓ asks.
"No, no I didn't write this. How could I even predict that?"
"Maybe it's just coincidence." Toms says not wanting to believe it.
"What if it's not?" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ asks. "What if some girl really dies?" she asked in a hushed voice.
Ｃｈｒｉｓ looks up and around, "Naw, that's not possible. It says right there that it's a girl everybody hates right?" He motions for the others to see for themselves, "Suse, you're the only girl here and everybody loves you."
Ｃｈｒｉｓ's eyebrows go up as he sees the bad weather-tinted neighborhood they entered. He had never seen this place before, up until now he thought this kind of places existed only in third world countries.
"Where are we?" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ asks looking up.
The bus comes to a halt and a cloud of dust goes up almost blinding the driver. The bus's door opens with a swift hissing sound and Ｃｈｒｉｓ's ear catches a
familiar clink, clink.
The entire bus's attention is drawn to the front and a silent gasp echoes in the bus. Up front stands Courtney Wright with her book bag slung on one shoulder and a duck tape-sealed cookie container hugged to her body.
"What'reya dopeheads staring at?" she says. The words aren't stunningly wicked but she says it with a voice so hateful and powerful it cuts right through their core and everybody looks away.
She walks to the back of the bus the clink, clink of her shoes announcing every step. She stops at the seat where Carlos and Adrian are sitting. She gets this surprised-in-disguise face as she glares at Adrian who looks back at her. He isn't afraid or anything (like most kids would be.) He smiles and so does she. A warm and totally out of place smile on her face, but nevertheless a smile.
Ｃｈｒｉｓ sees her two-second interaction and wonders what's going on between the two of them. He has, after all, never seen Adrian talking to anybody other than Carlos and he has never seen Courtney bother with anybody period.
He shrugs it off and watches Courtney as she walks to the end of the bus. She stops and throws herself on the last seat next to Ｃｈｒｉｓ's and carefully places the cookie jar next to her.
Courtney hugs the cookie jar defensively and stares straight out the window, her hair covering her face and expression completely.
Ｃｈｒｉｓ, Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ, Tom and Sebastian spin to look at each other as the bus starts off again and turns around back to the highway.
"I guess this won't be such a relaxed getaway." Ｃｈｒｉｓ says in a soft whisper.
"What do you mean it won't be relaxed? I'm planning to have fun." Tom says.
"Have fun? Are you mad? We have to stop her!" Ｃｈｒｉｓ whispered fiercely slamming a fist again the back of Sebastian's chair.
"Why?" Sebastian dares ask.
"What do you mean 'why'? because we have to!" Ｃｈｒｉｓ answers.
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ nods, "He's right, though nobody likes her, we do have to help her."
Tom and Sebastian see that Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ wants to stop Courtney and so they immediately join in. "Yeah, we should help."
Ｃｈｒｉｓ rolls his eyes at them. Tom and Sebastian are as predictable as pre-recorded football game. The only one who didn't notice their attitude was Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ, go figure!
SATURDAY MORNING- STILL ON THE BUS
"Mr. Whitaker, why do you keep checking? We're all in a bus, where would we go?" Carlos asks as Mr. Whitaker takes row for the third time.
Mr. Whitaker pulls a blue hankie from his Joe-the-explorer suit's pocket and wipes beads of nervous perspiration from his forehead. "Just making sure er-body's here."
"Er-body is here, so stop checking. You woke me up." Carlos says and cuddles on his pillow.
The three hour trip felt prolonged by the general nervousness in the bus. Mr. Whitaker sits down and cracks his shaky fingers. He didn't want to go on this trip, he's a nervous wreck! The only reason why he even suggested coming up was because it was a favor to a friend. What if one of the kids gets lost? Or worst, what if something happens to one of them? a shrill voice in his mind asks over and over again.
Ｃｈｒｉｓ stares at the back of Courtney's head. He isn't sure whether she is asleep or just looking out the window, but she protects the cookie jar fiercely.
Her fingers hold it tightly against her body and it looks like the only thing of value she carries.
Ｃｈｒｉｓ wonders why she's thinking of killing herself. It was anonymously decided they wouldn't discuss the poem when Courtney was sitting right there and yet Ｃｈｒｉｓ can't stop thinking about it.
Why does everybody hate her so much anyway?
She's mean, she shoved a lunch tray on Ｃｈｒｉｓ's face, she never talks to anybody, there's a rumor that she broke somebody's leg in a bathroom, she's being called to the front office almost everyday which probably means she's in trouble most of the time. Ｃｈｒｉｓ reminds himself of all the reasons, but what if there is more to that than just a bad attitude.
She's not actually mean she's just not miss peppy congeniality of the year; Ｃｈｒｉｓ had been on her way when she shoved the lunch tray on his face; she probably doesn't talk to anybody because she doesn't have anything to say; the rumor might just be a lie or exaggerations; and you could be called to the office for a million reasons other than trouble.
Thinking about it, Ｃｈｒｉｓ realizes Courtney has a bad attitude only in history's eyes, but she's not really that bad. Besides, after seeing the place where she
lived, Ｃｈｒｉｓ considers she has a damn good reason to be in a bad mood all the time. To attend one of the most elite public high school in the city made Ｃｈｒｉｓ forget all about the world outside his own money cocoon.
His daily life consists of going to school and then back home to the colonial-style development where he, Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ and Tom live. Occasional trips to the mall, the exclusive country club in which Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ, Tom and Sebastian all have memberships and golfing with his dad on the weekends.
Ever since he was a little boy, Ｃｈｒｉｓ's parent's high income have allowed Ｃｈｒｉｓ a life of luxury and carelessness. He had never thought people lived in places like the one Courtney did. Ｃｈｒｉｓ had always blamed poor people for their own misery, but the prolonged bus trip allowed him time to think about it. How could anybody help where, how or into which social class they where born?
SATURDAY AFTERNOON -IN THE CABIN
Mr. Whitaker checks off the last kid off the bus and in the cabins and then commands. "Okay now, kids go up to your rooms, get settled and then meet me and
Mrs. Whitaker down here in half and hour." He wipes his forehead on his sweaty blue hankie. "Boys you go up that way," He points to the left side staircase. "and girls you go to that side," He points to the other side.
The kids rummage upstairs pulling heavy luggage with cramped arms and tingly legs. Courtney rolls her eyes as she sees Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ struggling with her heavy suitcase. "You rich kids sure don't know how to have fun." She says helping Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ with her luggage, "Always have to carry your crap around everywhere."
"This is where we're staying. Where's the closet? No DVD? Where's the stereo? Don't they have a hair blower? What's this ugly carpet? Oh my God, is that the bed where I'm sleeping? It's so tiny!"
"Shut up! Would you like to sleep here, or should I just knock you unconscious and leave you for the bears?"
"Gee, you don't have to go psycho-ball on me. I paid highly for quality and I should get it, that's all I'm saying."
Courtney opens the drawer in her bedside table and carefully places the cookie jar inside. "Touch that drawer and I'll kill you." She says stepping out the room.
"Where are you going?" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ asks.
Courtney turns her head and puffs impatiently. "They're expecting us downstairs."
SATURDAY AFTERNOON -STILL IN THE CABIN
"No AC?"
"There aren't any hair blowers?"
"The TV in our room doesn't work?"
"Bunk beds?"
"No closet space?"
"I think we have termites?"
"I saw a roach in our room?"
Mr. Whitaker shakes his head and raises both hands. "What are y'all talking 'bout?"
Carlos looks at Mr. Whitaker square in the eye. "Mr. Whitaker, I think what everybody's trying to say is that this place… sucks."
"What are ya? Real state agents? This is the best place I could find and I think
it's mighty nice."
"I just can't believe you paid for this, we paid for this." Tom complains. His hands on his hips and a disgusted expression on his face.
"Oh come on kids, we're gonna have a great time in this cozy little shack. I brought blow driers, a DVD player and cookie dough." Mrs. Whitaker comes to the rescue.
"We're gonna spend the weekend baking cookies?" A tall dark-haired boy, Joseph, asks surprised.
Mrs. Whitaker laughs. "No, but I'll bet you'll want cookies when you come back from climbing the mountain, fishing or from bow and arrow lessons."
Everyone in the ten-person group sighs relieved.
Mr. Whitaker takes out a bundle of yellow recycled sheets and hands them out to everybody. "This's the itinerary for the next three days if there's no rain though we might do some things even if it's raining. You're free to use this weekend as a getaway from everything and you do not have to participate in any of the activities if you don't want. For the rest of the day, you're free to do as you please and the fun'll start tomorrow."
Some kids walk to the giant living room to watch a movie in the HG plasma
TV using the DVD player Mrs. Whitaker is already setting up. Carlos and his buddy Adrian go out for a walk and the rest goes up to their rooms.
"Lunch'll be served at two!" Mrs. Whitaker screams from the kitchen.
"Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ!" Ｃｈｒｉｓ calls and she backs off to the stairs.
"Yeah, what do you want?"
"We're meeting at the dining room in ten minutes, to talk about the poem."
"Okay," Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ answers remembering the poem, she had forgotten completely. "I'll just go get a sweater, it's kind of chilly in here." She says running her hands up her arms.
Ｃｈｒｉｓ grins, points to the dining room and walks away.
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ goes up the stairs and into her room to find it empty. "That's strange, I thought I saw Courtney come up." she thinks. She opens one of her bags, pulls out a fuzzy pink sweater and feels the soft smell of lavender of its perfumed soap. She breathes it in and decides to perk up her make up a little, after all, she's about to walk down into a house full of guys.
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ gets out her makeup box and walks to the bathroom deciding that some Allium-Poof pink lipgloss will go brilliantly with her pastel pink sweater.
Her hand touches the cold golden doorknob and she twists it to
counterclockwise. The door opens easily and she walks in while humming a song in her head.
"Na na, naa na na na Ahhhh!" Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ screams when she sees Courtney sitting on the bathroom's floor, her eyes and nose scarlet, her hair messy and a crumpled tissue in her hand. She sneezes.
"Get outta here!" Courtney yells angrily getting up and ready to jump on Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ.
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ turns around quickly and trips on her own feet. "Sorry, I didn't know you where here."
"Well now you do so GET OUT!" Courtney screams again.
Ｂｒｏｏｋｅ pulls her feet out of the way and Courtney slams the door shut.
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