by Vi Lily
Since Athole Academy is exclusive and pretty small, they don’t bother with buses. Every kid is wealthy enough to have their own vehicle, so we go on field trips on our own. This is my first school trip, but I think it’s a nice set-up for the kids, since we can do whatever we want after the trip. Plus, no noisy, uncomfortable, stinky, gross bus ride like I suffered through over the years in Cali.
The place where we’re supposed to meet the rest of the class is at the base of a path that leads to the Trail. We’re a little behind schedule after the gas stop slash assault. As we make the last turn, I’m kind of surprised to see how many vehicles are in the little lot. It seems that all the kids drove separately, none carpooling like Aleen and me. I wonder if that’s a spoiled rich kid thing.
Ms. Rey is talking to a group of students, and I frown when I see Raine. I was hoping she wouldn’t come today, like sleep late or get a bad case of the Hershey squirts. Crawly crabs. A sore butthole from an overnight alien probing. Something. Anything, if it kept her the hell away from me.
I sigh as Aleen turns off the Rover. She opens her door and looks over at me. “C’mon,” she says, “it’ll be okay.”
I wish I could believe her, but nothing is “okay” with my life right now. Not yet, anyway. Soon, though, it will be. After we broke the silence on the way up here, I told Aleen about my plans to leave, to move to Stevens. I told her the gas station incident is just one of about a hundred other things that have happened to me that I’d like to avoid having a repeat of. She’d seemed shocked that I’d gone through so much and had never said anything.
Why, though? What good would it do to boohoo about the way my life has taken such a crappy turn? It’s not like she can do anything about it. Besides, I hate telling the stories. Living them is bad enough.
We walk over to the others and I can hear Mrs. Rey talking about a storm that’s supposed to be heading our way.
“…so, we’ll get the data we need, and then we need to get back here to the parking lot. The storm is supposed to hit by noon, so we only have two to three hours. I want everyone checking in back here by one at the latest.”
I shiver at the mention of a storm. I was wondering why it seemed colder today than it had the rest of the week. I’m wishing I had worn my heavier coat, instead of my lighter jacket, but who knew that early April was going to be so freaking cold?
The crappy look Raine turns on me as Aleen and I approach the group is even chillier than the mountain air. I avoid looking at her.
As we move out and start climbing up the path to get to the creek, I warm up quickly, and even take off my jacket at one point and shove my beanie into Aleen’s backpack. I’m definitely not in the shape to do this kind of stuff.
Just as I’m wondering if I can get extra credit for my P.E. class for this excursion, Mrs. Rey calls out “Only another half mile to the creek!”
Great. I’m already exhausted.
Mrs. Rey is way too cheery in her announcement, in my opinion, but I’m so winded right now that I doubt I can get enough air to bitch about it. Thankfully, Aleen, who has stayed by my side like the amazingly loyal friend she is, doesn’t seem too chatty.
Raine, I notice with a sneer playing at my mouth, is practically bouncing along next to Mrs. Rey. They’ve been talking the whole time, and I wonder if the teacher can see through her fakeness. But when I hear Mrs. Rey laughing at something Raine says, I figure not.
I frown when I see Mrs. Rey and Raine glance back at me then, before they both burst out with new laughter. Of course, the paranoia kicks in and I assume they’re laughing at me. I’m probably not wrong.
While it’s ridiculous that a teacher would not only talk about, but laugh at, a student right in front of them — not to mention with another student — this is my life now. I’m honestly not surprised. Hurt? Sure. Shocked? Nope.
Aleen and I are the last to arrive at the creek. I know that she held back for me, and I appreciate that more than she’ll ever know. I’d tell her how much I appreciate it, if I could get enough breath. My throat is really hurting now and I pull out a water bottle from Aleen’s backpack and take a long drink.
While I know I’m in crappy shape, I also know that I’m a sea-level girl trying to survive at almost two miles elevation. I decide to cut myself some slack for that.
Ben’s sister is standing near Raine and Mrs. Rey by the creek as the teacher hands out papers that we’re supposed to fill out. Gwen glances at me as I approach the group and, just for the hell of it, I give her a small smile. I trip over absolutely nothing at all when she returns the smile.
For some reason, it makes me angry.
Not at her; Gwen has really been nothing but… well, not nice, but at least she’s never been a bitch to me. But I’m angry at the fact that I barely know her, have only had a handful of words with her, and while she can find enough kindness within her to smile at “the whore,” her brother, who I thought I knew better than anyone else, won’t even look at me.
Aleen grabs two papers from Mrs. Rey and walks back to where I’m standing. “We should get going,” she says as she looks at the sky. I follow her eyes. It’s mostly a clear sky, with just a few puffy clouds. I frown; there isn’t a storm anywhere near. But then, what do I know? Maybe East Coast storms sneak up quickly.
The others move downstream, and I follow Aleen as she heads in the opposite direction, I’m sure for my benefit. The “creek” looks more like a freaking white capped river to me. If this is what the easterners call creeks, I can’t wait to see what they call a river.
Of course, I already know that, considering Ben and I went to a river once. It actually wasn’t much bigger than the creek in front of us, but it had been mostly frozen and not overflowing its banks like the creek.
The memory of that day makes my chest hurt in a way that climbing the hill with my out of shape body hadn’t. It had been a warm day for late January, all the way up into the low twenties — and yeah, I’m totally being sarcastic — but Ben had kept me warm. I blush when I remember just how he’d managed that.
I am so thankful we never had sex. While I’d wanted him to be my first and had even been sort of planning it, his rejection would hurt so much more if I’d given that to him. Even though it sucks that my “innocence” was stolen from me, maybe I can even look on the bright side of that. I didn’t give it away to someone who could so easily betray me.
I know that I’m being way too philosophical and romantic over the proverbial cherry, but since I’d managed to hang onto the stupid thing for so long in the culture we live in, I think I have that right. I’ll romanticize that little inconsequential skin flap all I want, thankyouverymuch.
Aleen is saying something and I have to force myself back to the present. She’s all excited over seeing the stupid fish we’re supposed to be looking for and is squatting by the water as it rushes by. I’m picturing her losing her balance, toppling into the icy water and being dragged off to God knows where. I can swim, but I’m not the best swimmer. My swimming has been limited to a dozen yards off the West Coast. It makes me want to grab her by the jacket and yank her back.
Thankfully, Aleen straightens and pulls off her backpack and starts digging for a pencil, I’m assuming so she can make notes about the fish. She’s carrying our notebooks, pencils and our snacks. She’d talked me out of bringing my backpack, I think because she knows how out of shape I am and figured I didn’t need to lug around the extra weight.
After she’s done making notes, she hands them to me so I can copy them in my own notebook. Normally, I would have just snapped a pic of them with my phone, but my mom still has mine. I doubt I’ll ever get it back and I don’t know why I didn’t think to get my own. I think it’s because I have the grounding hanging over my head.
Yeah, I’m a good kid — even though I’m being punished for no reason, I take the lumps.
But I make a mental note that I need to get a phone Monday, the day I plan to go car shopping in Stevens. Good kid needs to step
up and take charge of her own life now.
A new apartment, new car, and a new school… I’m embracing this adulting stuff, even if I am being forced into it.
When I’m done copying, I decide I should make some effort to do the work too, so I walk farther up to the creek and look for the fish in question. But, seriously, the water is moving so fast I have no clue how Aleen was able to spot one.
There’s a grouping of rocks a little farther upstream where the water isn’t rushing so crazily. I make my way to the rocks, then carefully climb out on one that’s closest to the bank. I glance back and see Aleen watching me, so I give her a little wave, as if to say, “go do what you want. I’m fine.”
While I appreciate the fact that she’s watching out for me, I can’t expect her to babysit me every second.
The rocks have created a somewhat calm pool and I’m a little surprised to see at least three different types of fish there. I embrace my inner geek and take my time as I make a note of each fish — the length as close as I can guess, the color, the types of fins, the markings — all the stupid stuff I’ve learned about in class that I can remember. Stuff I’ll never remember or use again.
When I’m done, I turn so I can scoot back off the rock and I hop back onto the bank. I’m relieved that I didn’t fall into the creek, which would be something I could easily do.
Aleen is nowhere to be seen, so I figure she walked back to the others. I shiver then, as a cold wind sweeps over the creek. When I glance up at the sky, I’m surprised to see that the storm Mrs. Rey was talking about is already here. Big, ominous-looking clouds are moving in quickly. I figure I better get downstream to the others.
I walk alongside the creek so that I don’t get lost. I know better than to try to move through the trees. My sense of direction seriously sucks, but even someone with the best sense wouldn’t be able to make their way through the thick woods. I’ve heard stories about people getting lost on the Appalachian Trail… and some were never found.
It seems like I’ve walked a lot farther than I should have, but there’s no sign of anyone else. I frown when I don’t recognize the area, but then I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were going when I was just following along behind Aleen. I stop for a minute and listen, trying to hear voices, but all I can hear is the rushing creek.
A little bit of panic hits me then and I fore myself to shove it aside. There’s no reason to worry; it’s not like Aleen is going to leave me behind. And even though Mrs. Rey has been a total bitch to me after the video, I know she wouldn’t leave me either.
I decide to walk a little farther downstream; I didn’t see the trail we took to get up here from the parking area yet. But then again, I wasn’t really looking for it. I was looking for people.
The temperature drops even further when the clouds thicken and block out the sun. I’m really regretting not bringing my heaviest coat, and for leaving my beanie with Aleen. The jacket I’m wearing has a hood, but it’s just a light fleece material. Still, I pull it up and shove my hands in my pockets. I’m enough of a klutz to know that isn’t the best thing to do when walking on uneven terrain, but my hands are freaking freezing. I’ll just have to hope I don’t trip and faceplant.
When I know for a fact that I’ve walked farther than I should have, I turn around and head back upstream, this time looking for the little path we took. I’m not sure I’ll recognize it, though, because it wasn’t much of a path, to be honest. It was little more than a goat trail.
After I’ve walked back for about five minutes, I see a bit of a break in the trees so I move toward it, hoping it’s the path. Since I’m on the top of a steep incline, I can look down and see that it’s fairly clear all the way down. At least, no trees are in the way, so I hope that maybe this is the path.
Just in case, though, I pull off one of my neon purple shoelaces and tie it around a branch. That way, if I have to go back up the hill to the creek and start over, I’ll know which path not to take.
My hope is that the others — or at least Aleen — are in the parking area, aggravated because they’re having to wait for my dumb butt. While I don’t want to give them more reason to hate on me, I would rather be with people who hate me than all alone in the wilderness with a snowstorm coming.
And why is a snowstorm coming? I wonder. I mean, seriously, it’s like April already. This is spring. It should be warming up, things should be growing, green stuff sprouting. Birds should be chirping, flowers blooming. All that springy stuff the earth does this time of year. But, not… we’re supposed to get a “spring snowstorm,” apparently.
This place is crazy.
I’ve walked a lot farther than I think I should have and still no sign of the parking area. I’m really starting to panic now, because not only do I think I’m lost, but again… snowstorm. And I have zero survival skills, not to mention the fact that I have no supplies.
And no phone.
Well, one good thing about panicking and having my heart racing — I’m not cold now. But I will be soon, once the snow starts dumping. And I know it will dump. I may not have lived here long, but I already recognize the difference between “light dusting of snow” clouds and “put chains on your tires and bring firewood into the house” clouds. This storm is the latter.
“Hello!” I yell as loud as I can in every direction. I wait, but nothing. I keep yelling, alternating between “help” and “hello,” before my throat gets just too sore to make any more noise. But no one answers. In fact, there isn’t any sound at all now, not even the creek. I must have walked a lot farther than I thought. I know I’m seriously lost.
And seriously screwed.
HE AGAIN
Chapter 1
B EN SUCKED down a fifth of vodka before venturing into the study. It was the last place on earth he wanted to be, but he had questions that he wanted answers to.
He had almost vomited when he walked into the study and his eyes went straight to the desk. The surface was shiny, mocking, and he could almost see Beth’s outline still. He’d snorted to himself, knowing that was stupid and was probably the vodka doing the thinking.
He forced his eyes to stay away from it as much as possible as he searched the office. Against his better wishes, he knew he had to think about the camera angles. There was the shot from the back, at the beginning, so he moved to the wall to the left of the desk and searched the curio cabinet there. Other than knick-knacks that his father had collected over the years — trophies from his time in PeeWee soccer through college, medals, stuffed mascot animals — he didn’t see anything that looked like it was hiding a camera.
Ben then moved to the window behind the desk, which was the angle from the right side. He figured that camera had probably been on the windowsill, but that wouldn’t make sense since the curtains would have been closed at night. His dad wouldn’t have wanted someone driving by and seeing him getting some.
He felt the curtains, sliding his hands down the thick folds. Nothing.
Frowning, he moved to the bookshelves. It was a library-type setup, with built-in shelves that ran from floor to ceiling. He stopped at the spot where he thought the camera would have been, but there were just books there, with no space in between. But he figured that a book or two could have easily been removed to make room for a camera, then replaced.
He was getting frustrated, but there was one more camera angle to check, and that was one that was shot from the front of the desk, but at a downward view, like it had been placed near the ceiling. He turned and scanned the far wall but decided that was too far away. His eyes then moved to the ceiling fan.
This time of year the fan wasn’t on. He tried to see if there was anything on it that might be a camera, but it was dark near the ceiling and hard to see. Despite his height, the ceiling in the study was probably ten feet high, so he dragged a desk chair over to the fan and unsteadily climbed up.
The lights hanging under the fan seemed normal enough, so he reached up and felt above them. Just
above the blades was a small, square black object that seemed to be stuck to the fan’s rod. It didn’t seem to be part of the fan, so he pulled on it and it popped right off, apparently magnetic.
Ben started to examine it but swayed slightly as the effects from the vodka kicked in, so he stepped down from the chair, pushed it back to the desk and left the study as fast as he could.
In his room, he took a picture of the little box and did a reverse image search on the internet. Sure enough, it was a surprisingly cheap “spy camera” that took video and sent it to a mobile device. It was motion activated and even had night vision.
So, someone must have decided to start spying on his dad, since the study was the one room he’d claimed as his own. Most likely, it was his mom.
Why, he could only guess. Probably because she knew what a scumbag Ken Penn was and maybe she hoped to catch him “in the act.” His mouth curled into a sneer then, when he thought about the fact that his Dad had definitely been caught.
What he couldn’t figure out is why his mom would have leaked the video… and how. Since he worked in the Academy’s office, he knew how to send the group messages to all the numbers in the system, but there was no way his mom could do that. For one thing, she had no access, no passwords. Plus, other than the required parent-teacher conferences, Ben didn’t think his mom had ever been to the Academy.
Then there was the fact that outing his dad would be stupid, considering she would know that he would lose his job, since it was a student he’d banged. His mom’s job as community manager definitely wasn’t enough to pay the bills. At least, he didn’t think so.
But his mom had been gone so much over the past couple of months that Ben was starting to wonder if maybe she’d found someone new. He nodded a bit drunkenly at that thought; more power to her. His mom deserved some happiness for all the bull she’d had to put up with over the years. But it sucked that she’d just turned her back on him and his sister.
