Part Five
Adam Banks was not happy.
For one, one of his best friends' roommates had a broken ankle somewhere on a mountain. It was raining so hard he couldn't see three feet in front of him. The buffoon of an RA who suggested this love-fest was currently leading a game of 'I'm Going on a Picnic.' Stupid game. On his other side, another one of his best friends was sneaking glances at the other roommate. Stupid Kenny.
He folded his arms and glared out at the rain, ignoring his shivering body.
Outside the small indentation they had taken cover in, the rain continued to come down in buckets. It was turning into a colder rain- unlike the beginning of the storm, which had been more like a warm summer rain, it had taken on the chill one usually associated with November storms.
It was cold.
Parker tucked her chin into the crook of her arm and blew out her breath. This warmed her face slightly for a couple of blissful seconds. She pulled her knees in closer and breathed out slowly. From somewhere inside a pocket, her cell phone vibrated.
Fumbling for the phone, she opened it with a puzzled look on her face. Her eyes scanning the message, her lips quickly broke into a smile. She turned and addressed the group. "Hey, guess what?"
"What?" Lee asked, lip quivering. Jared pulled her closer to him.
"I just got a text from Dominique. She must've sent it hours ago! It says," –here she paused for dramatic effect, "'Got your text, much to tell you when you get back. Tell Kenny that Russ says he's a rat bastard and yes, we've updated our statuses on facebook.'" She closed her phone. "I guess that answers that question."
Kenny groaned beside her. "Great."
"What, are you going to get beaten when you get back?" Parker teased, ruffling his hair. Kenny opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it. He settled for looking at Parker innocently.
"At least someone's day is going the way they planned," Adam ground out quietly.
"Ease up, Banks," Julie said, nudging his shoulder with hers. "It could be worse."
"Oh yeah?" The blond glared at her. "Tell me, I'm dying to know."
"We could have to stay the night in this shithole."
"I wouldn't count that out just yet," Jared piped up. When the two hockey players turned to look at him with identically irate expressions, he smiled weakly. "We only have an hour of daylight left, and it doesn't look like the rain's letting up any."
Adam looked furious.
"I wonder where they are," Dominique wondered out loud as she played with Russ' hair. He was pretending to read for his economics class as they shared a couch in the lounge, but she knew better. He would steal glances over at her whenever he thought she wasn't looking, something she thought was adorable.
"I'm sure they're around here somewhere," Russ said vaguely, turning a page.
"They said they'd be back for dinner, though," Dominique persisted, checking her phone. "It's nearly dinner now."
"So they stopped for some ice cream," Russ said. He turned towards the swimmer. "Relax, Dom, they'll be back soon."
"Something doesn't feel right," she muttered, snuggling into his side. She flipped on the television. "How do you feel about Say Yes to the Dress?"
Russ resisted the urge to groan.
Charlie Conway was resisting the urge in another way.
He'd gotten up at the crack of noon (okay, ten), and, after scarfing a chocolate bar he knew Banks kept in his sock drawer, he'd decided to go to the Lipinski Recreation Center to skate. The rinks were usually open on weekends, and he figured he could work on some puck-handling on his own.
Christ, he was turning into Banks.
After skating back and forth, just enjoying the occasional shards of ice flying and the feel of his stick in his hands, he'd wandered into their locker room around noon, and came to the conclusion that they had turned it into an absolute dump.
Not that it was that nice when it had been given to them after Moloney Academy had cut the second men's basketball team from their program, but he could see his teammates' padding all around the room, and one of the benches had been overturned by Fulton during the last practice when Averman had started singing the Backstreet Boys and pissed him off. A pair of underwear, not sure whose precisely, was handing off one of the overhead lamps. The paint was peeling. The bulletin board by the hallway leading to the coaches' office had seen better days. Their coach, a tall redheaded man with a beard named Joshua McElvaine, who had quickly won over the team with his easygoing and laid-back attitude, along with his affinity for AC/DC and Aerosmith, had commented briefly on the state of disrepair the locker room was in.
Charlie took in the general detritus and nodded, more to himself than anything, and quickly changed his clothes.
After a quick stop back to his room for his hat, Charlie sprinted up to the fifth floor. He rapped on the door for Suite 515.
"Goldberg!" he called impatiently, "Open up!"
The door cracked open, and a pale, skinny boy with glasses answered. "Who are you?"
"Who're you?" Charlie shot back, giving the boy a once-over. "Where's Goldberg?"
"Is that Guy, Greg, or Günter?" the skinny boy persisted.
Charlie groaned inwardly. "Does that mean you have a G-name too?"
"Oh, hey Charlie," the goalie in question greeted his captain. Toting a canvas bag and a container of detergent, it was apparent that he'd been doing laundry. "Gus. Get out of the way, you're blocking the door!"
He barreled into the room, leaving his nosy roommate almost knocked over on the edge of the doorframe.
"Goldie, I need a ride," Charlie said hastily, his eyes flicking around the room. He could pick out Goldberg and Guy's side of the room without even trying- they both had the team photo of the Ducks at the Goodwill Games on their dressers, and their section of the room was plastered with hockey-related paraphernalia.
"Where do you need to go?" the goalie asked suspiciously. He held up his hands. "Listen, Charlie, I'm not giving Banks a man-over again! Remember what his reaction was the last time?"
Charlie paused. He remembered that- it was senior year at Eden Hall, and Adam had just been dumped by the girl he'd been seeing since the year before, Carly something or another. He'd accidentally seen her and her roommate making out in the campus library study carrels, and had spent the better part of a holiday weekend moping about, whining about how he'd managed to turn a girl away from men completely after dating him. Charlie had seen the center's misery as an opportunity to free him from the sweater-vested life he led and into the land of normal teenage boys- t-shirts and the occasional hoodie.
Needless to say, Banks hadn't appreciated the work his captain had put into saving his appearance, and he didn't like the fact that everyone else hadn't seen any reason to stop him from doing it.
"That was for his own good!" Charlie protested. He grinned. "He was kind of a spaz about it, wasn't he?"
Goldberg nodded. "A little, yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. He pulled a shirt out and started folding. "Where we going?"
"We are going to the nearest Home Depot," Charlie said, pulling out a pair of red boxers with little white Cupids on them. He stretched them out and wrinkled his nose. "What are these supposed to be?"
"My underwear, obviously," Goldberg snapped, yanking the offending fabric away from the captain and stuffing them into the top drawer of his dresser.
"You do have an obscene number of patterned boxers," Gus interrupted from across the room. He was sitting at his desk, and Charlie could see an online role-playing game that Averman used to play on pause on the screen behind him.
"You are an observant one, aren't you?" Charlie said snidely to the other boy. "What sport do you play, Gus-Gus?"
"And I'd prefer that it just be Gus, because when I hear Gus-Gus I'm reminded of Cinderella and the fat mouse," was the hesitant reply. "I'm on the cross-country team."
"Ah," Charlie said, clasping his hands together. "Gotcha."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Gus demanded.
Charlie grinned at Goldberg, who sighed and picked up his keys resignedly. "Come on, Chuck," the dark-haired boy said finally. "If you're good in the store, I'll buy you a cookie."
"Ooh, will it be chocolate chip?" Charlie practically skipped out of the room. "Later, Gus-Gus!"
An hour later, Charlie was miles ahead of Goldberg, who had been reduced to pushing a cart teeming with a myriad of materials around Home Depot. The captain hadn't shared his vision with the goalie, merely saying that he was going to be doing some 'home improvement.'
It was with that explanation that Goldberg forbid him to buy a skil saw. Banks would be proud.
"Charlie, wait up!" the larger boy shouted, pushing the cart as quickly as he dared without fearing that he would run into something. When he finally caught up with the taller boy, he was looking at paint chips.
"Which one?" Charlie asked, holding up two different shades of red.
"For what?" Goldberg could feel the beginnings of a massive headache coming on.
"Moloney red. Which one?" He thrust the two paint samples at him again.
"Uh… God, Charlie, I don't know, why didn't you ask Connie or Julie or Banks to help you?" Goldberg whined.
Charlie fixed his teammate with a stare. "Well… Banks and Julie are off hiking with Kenny and some of Julie's roommates, and Connie's probably macking it up with Guy… and I haven't hung out with you outside of practice."
Goldberg sighed. Deep down, Charlie was a decent guy, and one of his best friends. It really wasn't his fault that he hadn't matured past the mindset of a thirteen year old.
Sensing that he'd appealed to the goalie's better nature, Charlie shot him the patented shit-eating grin he was known for. "So… which one?"
When Goldberg glared at him, Charlie had to resist the urge to laugh.
Dwayne dropped his books on his desk in a heap, which woke Averman out of a dead sleep. Having finished the reading for the anthropology class he had with Parker and Kenny earlier than he'd expected, he'd decided to take a nap.
That hadn't been intended to last until dinnertime.
"Aww, Averman, I'm real sorry," Dwayne apologized to his roommate. He looked around. "I saw Russ and his lady love in the lounge earlier, thought maybe they'd come back up here."
"Haven't seen 'em," Averman said, climbing down his bed and adjusting his glasses. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen Ken either today."
Dwayne frowned. It was nearly dinnertime. Normally on the weekends the Ducks tried to eat all together, with at least one of Julie's roommates joining them. It was interesting how well the sub-groups had meshed- Parker seemed to be friendly with Russ, Kenny, and Adam, while Lee had gravitated towards Goldberg and Averman… and it was now obvious which Duck Dominique preferred.
"Speaking of Russ and Dom," Averman started slowly, "Did you come back to the room last night?"
"Naw," Dwayne said, waving a hand. "I wound up stayin' with Goldberg and Guy in their room."
"Was Connie there?" Averman asked.
Dwayne nodded. "It's weird to think they all live apart, you know? They've been together since pee-wees, right?"
Averman nodded, smiling. "They have. It's mildly impressive."
Dwayne cocked his head to the side. "Wait, were y'all here when Russ had his lady friend over?"
Averman looked at the cowboy in horror. "I most certainly was not!" He paused, trying to figure out the most delicate way to say where he was. "I, uh, well… you see…"
Dwayne raised his eyebrows. "I don't see nothin' but you tryin' to explain… where WERE you?"
"Okay, so I might've been sleeping in the lounge," Averman snapped. "Russ and Dom were getting it on, so who am I to interrupt?"
Dwayne nodded. It made sense, but… "WAIT! Y'all slept in the LOUNGE?"
Averman was slightly taken aback by the usually docile cowboy's outburst. But, there he was, looking madder than a hornet. Or a cow that a group of teenagers had tried to tip. He smiled weakly. "Yes?"
While Dwayne began a lecture about how, though the students at Moloney certainly seemed decent enough, it wasn't safe to be sleeping in public, in case someone takes their keys or ID card or their wallet, Averman sank onto the futon feeling incredibly chastened. When he got to the part where anyone can get into the building if they're let in, Dwayne ran out of steam.
"So…" Averman started, clapping his hands in front of him. "Should we call Ken, or just assume he's over with the girls?"
"What do you think, Goldie?" Charlie beamed at his handiwork. He'd sent Goldberg back to his room after their trip, and had promised to text him the second he was done. In under four hours, he'd managed to single-handedly transform their locker room from a heap to a place he would be proud of.
He'd painted the walls with Moloney red, and sweet-talked his neighbor, a sweet Asian girl named Sara Chen, who he'd found out was a phenomenal artist the first day of school when he accidentally brought one of her boxes into his room and found brushes and oil paint instead of his lucky underwear, into painting a Moloney version of the Ducks emblem from the Goodwill Games and Eden Hall next to the door.
She'd risen to the challenge, and done a beautiful mask and sticks with 'Moloney Academy for the Athletically Inclined' in banner script above and below it. Then she'd painted all of the locker doors black, so when they'd put them back on the hinges they were black with red framing. Charlie had the foresight to get black chalkboard paint instead of black matte, so together they wrote the last name and jersey number for each locker.
They had replaced the bulletin board and posted the team roster and a schedule of their practices and games, important phone numbers, and the number for Goldberg's favorite pizza parlor delivery service. Next to the bulletin board, so it was visible from every angle of the room, Charlie had hung two framed pictures- one of the team with Gordon Bombay, their first coach, right after their victory as freshmen at Eden Hall, and one of Hans.
Charlie had gotten a little quiet after hanging that photo, Sara noticed. Too quiet. She hadn't pressed the matter, but continued to pack her paints, slipping out when she had finished.
When Goldberg walked into the locker room, his jaw had dropped. His eyes drank in all of the work his captain had put into the room, and he was speechless. Never let it be said that Charlie Conway couldn't accomplish something if he put his mind to it.
"This is… wow, Charlie, you did this in four hours?" He couldn't believe it. His eyes stopped on the mural. "I didn't know you could paint."
"I wish that was me!" Charlie chuckled. "I asked my neighbor to paint it."
"Dekes?" Goldberg looked confused. When he was moving in, his father had insisted on introducing himself to every kid and parent he encountered. When they'd finally located the elevator, the Goldbergs had run into another family on their way up to their son's room. Dekes, as the boy's father had introduced him as, was an offensive linebacker for the Moloney football team, and had turned out to be Charlie and Adam's neighbor. Goldberg wasn't one for stereotyping, but he didn't see Dekes as a painter. At all.
"Nah," Charlie shook his head. "Other side. Sara Chen."
Goldberg nodded, then asked slyly, "Is she hot?"
Charlie grinned. "You know it. She's pretty funny, too."
"What does she play?" Goldberg asked. After arriving at Moloney, that question became second nature when meeting new people on campus.
"She's a softball player," Charlie said, flipping a paintbrush in his hand. "Parker says she's a slammin' first baseman."
They turned to leave. Goldberg looked at the locker room once more, and then turned to his friend. "Dude, seriously, this was really decent of you to do for us. Why did you do it?"
Charlie sighed. "I wanted to give us a place that was just ours. You know, Ken and Averman and Russ and Cowboy are the only ones who didn't get placed with new people. I wanted a place that we'd be able to go back to the way things were, without all these extra people around." He caught the goalie's calculating look. "Not saying that I don't like the people we've met… like, Julie's roommates are cool. I'm glad that Russ and Dom got together, and I'm pretty sure either Kenny or Averman has a thing for Parker, but… I miss when it was just us."
Goldberg nodded. "I mean, we're all going to meet new people, Charlie. I mean, hopefully, anyway. At least Connie and Guy have lasted this long, right?"
Charlie shook his head and rolled his eyes. "They're so up and down that it's normal to have to constantly question whether or not they're together."
Averman usually wouldn't consider himself a worrier. He and Dwayne had met up with Charlie and Goldberg for dinner in the dining hall, where they had found Portman and Fulton sitting with a plate of hot wings in between them and root beer beside them. No one had heard from Adam or Kenny all day, and the note that Ken had left on the whiteboard had said they'd be back for dinner. Averman was, as they say, slightly disconcerned.
Being chatty, like old women in a nursing home, the group had stayed well past the confines of normal mealtime time span, and were observers to the majority of campus trailing in for dinner. Their wayward hiking friends were not among them.
Goldberg, who knew about the side of Averman that made him seem like a concerned grandma, glanced at him over his slice of pie. He'd been quiet for a while, stirring his hot chocolate almost absentmindedly.
"Aves?" Charlie was staring at him.
"Mmmm?"
"You worried?"
Averman stared at the captain. "Um… yeah. A little bit."
Charlie raised his eyebrows. "A little?"
Averman shrugged. "Okay, so maybe a little more… I mean, they were s'posed to be back by now."
"So," Portman said, wiping his mouth with a crumpled-up napkin, "Whaddya say we go look for them?"
"Yeah," Fulton chimed in, leaning across the table. "We know they were going to hike the Giant's Playground, so chances are they're riding out the storm somewhere in between the top and the car."
Dawyne shifted nervously in his chair. "I dunno, guys," he said.
Everyone stared at him.
The Texan blushed uncomfortably under their steely gazes. "It's not that I don't want them home," he started, "But… is it safe for us to go a-lookin' for them? Maybe we should call the authorities or somethin'. Banks'd kill us if'n he knew we were out in this storm."
Charlie nodded. He looked at Portman and Fulton. "Meet us out front."
Lee was alternating between crying and shivering. The moisture had crept into the small cave, making the air ten degrees colder than it actually was. Her sweatshirt had been soaked through from the rain. At least being cold kept her mind mostly off her broken ankle. Jared had scooped her up and was rocking her back and forth in his arms, whispering softly to her as she buried her face in his broad chest. The storm outside the small cave was still going strong- they had heard what seemed to be several trees crash down around them, so they knew that it was no use trying to make it the rest of the way down until it was over. It had been dark outside for at least two hours, according to Parker's watch, but she wasn't about to admit that to anyone.
Finally Adam broke the silence. "I'm going out there to see if I can get some reception."
Julie lifted her head. Her eyes narrowed. "Banks, not in a fucking hurricane!"
The blond boy glared at her. "I can't not do something, Jules. My phone's the only one that still works. Let me see if I can call someone." He stared at her, as if daring her to stand in his way. He got up, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and moved toward the entrance.
Parker stopped him. Looking up at him with bleary, tired eyes, she said, "Please be careful."
Adam smiled briefly, but his smile stopped when he saw Kenny's expression from across the cave. Throwing his teammate an equally aggressive, albeit confused, look, he stepped into the rain.
"I hope he gets lucky," muttered Parker as she attempted to draw her arms around herself.
"He's Banksie," Kenny said, scooting closer to her. "The only time he's not lucky is in bed."
Parker snorted. She reached down and pulled Kenny's arm around her shoulder, and snuggled in. She might have missed the myriad of expressions that flickered across his face, but Julie didn't.
Outside, the drenched center tucked his cell phone into the hood of his sweatshirt and prayed that someone would answer. After hearing a couple of signals that meant that his call had been dropped, Adam wanted to throw his iPhone in frustration.
Isn't this thing supposed to be really high-tech? He thought of Lee's ankle. Who knew what kind of condition it was in at this point? He thought of Julie and Parker, how cold they must be. He glanced back into the cave, and through the pouring rain he could see Kenny with his arm around the small blonde girl. It dawned on him why Kenny was acting so weird.
He punched the three digits angrily in a last-ditch attempt to contact the EMTs.
And what do you know, that's when someone picked up.
"Hi, yes, my name is Adam Banks, and I'm with the group that called earlier…"
The ambulance was already parked when a pickup truck and a Jeep rolled up, hockey players spilling out. One glance at the stocky woman in uniform told them all they needed to know- the others were still somewhere on the mountain. She said something from underneath her umbrella, but Charlie couldn't hear her over the rain.
"Start up without me," he told Goldberg, who was busy snapping up a bright yellow raincoat. "I'm gunna see what she wants." One by one, dressed in assorted pieces of raingear, with the exception of Averman, who was dressed in layers of trash bags, they headed for the trails.
"Hi, we're here to look for the group that's stuck on the mountain," Charlie said when he reached the EMT.
She gave him a thin smile. "You and me both, sonny. My team's halfway up, haven't seen any sign of them." She patted him on the shoulder. "You and your friends are better off waiting down here."
The blood drained from Charlie's face. He wiped the excess rain from his eyes and looked back at her. "Do you think they went off the trail? Maybe they found somewhere dry to stay put in… maybe your guys missed them!" The last part came out somewhat desperately.
The woman looked at him with eyebrows raised. It wasn't every day that she was criticized by a kid. "Listen, best I can do is radio my team, tell 'em you're here and think they may have taken shelter somewhere. It's slick going, and you don't know these trails like they do, so going up is a bad idea." In a more sympathetic tone, she said, "I know you're probably worried, sonny, but we'll get them down."
Charlie stuck his chin out. "We're going up after them."
The woman chuckled. "I figured as much. Stubborn thing, aren't you?" She fished a radio out of the back of the ambulance. She pointed to the trail. "I'll let 'em know you're on your way up. Good luck."
Charlie grinned. "Thanks!" He jogged to catch up with the rest of the pack he'd come with.
"Hey!" the woman yelled.
Charlie spun around.
"Got a flashlight?"
Charlie's grin got wider.
Forty-five minutes later, the group hadn't seen any sign of the rescue team or their friends. They were all drenched and getting discouraged, but Averman, in his trash bag getup, refused to entertain any possibility of turning around. Once, Fulton tripped and made some smaller rocks give way, and Charlie was sure that the redhead was going to turn around and kick him down the mountain. Instead he just glared and barked that they needed to keep going.
An hour and a half later, even Averman was beginning to question their effectiveness. When they reached a flat area, Averman stopped. He looked around, flashing his light around in the darkness. Through the rain he could hear someone or something far away, and he'd bet his position on the Moloney Academy hockey team that it was the rescue team.
"Guys, do you hear that?" he said finally.
Fulton cocked his head. "Yeah dude," he said finally. "It's pretty low though, where's it coming from?" He spoke carefully, as if not to upset Averman further.
An idea struck Charlie. "Hey," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Wasn't Banks like, a Boy Scout or something?"
Portman grinned, and he and Fulton exchanged wicked smiles. "Of course he was!"
Dwayne looked confused. "What's wrong with bein' a Boy Scout? I'm an Eagle Scout myself."
"Never mind, Cowboy," Goldberg interrupted. His dark eyes glinted when Averman shone the light near him. "Yeah, Charlie, he's been a Boy Scout since Pee Wees. Why?"
Charlie started pacing, the flashlight he'd gotten from the EMT shining all over the place. "What if they did take shelter? Where would they go?"
Averman squinted through the darkness. "There are boulders everywhere, Charlie," he said finally. "Maybe they found a bunch that kept some space dry?" He shrugged.
Through the trees, they saw the dim beams belonging to the rescue team on their way back down. As they got closer, they saw two burly-looking men and a small, lithe woman in the same uniform they'd seen on the woman at the ambulance.
"Over here!" Charlie waved.
The leader, a tall, rugged dark-haired man who introduced himself as Gary, shook his hand. "You must be the kids' friends that Irene radioed about. Any sign of them?"
Charlie shook his head. "Nothing. One of them, Adam, he was a Boy Scout, so we think he might've figured out a place to wait out the rain."
The man behind Gary snorted. "We figured that one out for ourselves, Carmen Sandiego."
Gary glared at him. "Shut up, Schmidt." He turned back toward the Ducks. "I know of three areas that he might have seen, but it would've had to be still light out. It's gunna be hell trying to find them in the dark."
"We're going to, right?" Averman pushed past Charlie to stare at the EMT. "Listen, man, these are our friends… we've got to find them."
Gary grinned. "The first one's at the two hour mark, and then down from there. It's possible that we missed them. So, we'll go up as a group, come down as a group. It'll be me and…" -he pointed at Averman- "…Your name, buddy?"
"Averman," he ground out around a shiver.
"Right. It's me and Averman in front, you big boys and the kid in the cowboy hat with Janie in the middle, and then Charlie and your other buddy there in back with Schmidt. And Charlie?"
"Yeah?" Charlie nodded.
Gary flicked his light over to the captain. "If he gives you any issues, push him down the mountain."
Schmidt blanched.
"How can all of their phones be off?" Russ demanded, throwing his phone at the couch in the lounge angrily. He immediately regretted it, as his precious Blackberry bounced off the cushion and fell open when it made contact with the floor.
"I don't know," Dominique said quietly from the chair. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her typically long nails had long since been shredded to pieces. "What if they're hurt? What if something happened? A car accident? Wouldn't someone have called us by now if something like that had happened?"
Russ shrugged. For once in his life, he had no sarcastic comment. This was scary. His friends, the kids he'd moved halfway across the country to play with, were missing in the middle of a storm on a mountain. Where he was from it was more likely that people get shot. He wasn't sure which was more terrifying.
And then there was Dom. Sweet, sassy Dom who looked like she'd witnessed someone kicking puppies. Staring at him like he could possibly do something to fix it.
Just as he inserted the battery back into his phone, it blinked at him.
One new message.
A few seconds later, he grinned up at Dom. "They found them!"
A/N: Sorry for the delay (again!)- I just finished a stint as a summer camp counselor with very little access to internet. This part was super easy to write, though, because it's actually based loosely on a hiking trip one of my friends led (with some other RAs from her school. They wound up being fine, but lost on the mountain as well as needing an ambulance. Also…
Eden Hall Elite: Thanks! Luis will feature in later, potentially as a spring-break getaway thread. I'm so glad you like Kenny- he's one of my favorite Ducks so I had to include him, since most stories barely mention him. As for some 'horizontal tango'… well… keep reading!
Over and out!
~ Flyinghawk