“Girls are on the main floor. Boys are on the lower level,” he continued, scanning the crowd. “There are no boys allowed in girls’ rooms and vice versa.”
As usual Marissa waited before leaving her seat. Stephanie ignored her as she passed in her pink gloves and matching earmuffs. The last time Marissa saw earmuffs she was six years old and riding a toboggan.
With her scarf dangling and boots kicking up salt from the snow, Marissa waltzed inside to wait for her bags. The boys, of course, rustled their way off the bus and into a snowball fight. Eventually the bags were brought in two by two.
The Little Lodge was antiquated yet quaint. A roaring fire burned by the side wall and a myriad of girls huddled beside it warming their hands and backs. The pile in the meeting room grew as the girls hovered by the giant windows waiting for the boys to finish.
Little by little the chatter died down and the pile dwindled. But where was her bag? Had someone taken it? She dug through the pile as people toted their belongings down the hall.
The chaperones were speaking quietly in the corner, probably getting their plan together for the rest of the night. Looping her scarf around her neck, Marissa spotted a few unattended suitcases out by the bus.
The wind ripped right through her the second she opened the lodge doors. It nearly blew her over with its Adirondack gusts. With a mop of hair covering her eyes she balanced her way over the small bridge and inched toward the bus.
The compartments beneath the bus were still open but empty. None of the remaining bags were hers; she could tell by the handles. Where had it gone?
She studied the black bags anyway, in case she was wrong. But she wouldn’t forget the bag. Sean had bought it for her two years ago when she first started heading up to the frat to visit him. She didn’t even board the bus in Chatham until it was safely stored.
With her arms tucked at her sides she squatted down in front of the pile. She pushed the ski bags out of the way and spotted her suitcase.
“Is this yours?” Marissa’s hand was suddenly held back, as Hawke rescued the bag.
She smiled but the wind was unforgiving. A sense of balance was not one of her strong points and her boots provided no traction on the icy ground. She looked at the bag and remembered one of the twins had damaged the handle so her mother had removed it. “Yes, it’s mine.”
Her heart fluttered as he took her hand. “Be careful— it’s slippery out here.”
Hawke’s coal-colored jacket had a high collar which caped around his long hair. She made note of his sloped nose and full lips. There were so many features she had forgotten.
“Thank you.” She folded her arms to retain the little body heat she could muster. “It appears none of my things made it inside.”
He surveyed the pile. “What else am I looking for?”
She taunted him. “Why do you think I have another bag?”
“Cause I remember all the junk you toted up to the fraternity. This is a three-day weekend so I assume there must be more.”
“I am missing one more bag. It’s smaller, but black.”
He nodded.
The Vermont wind was relentless. The weather was somewhere north of zero but not by much. Without her gloves, the frigid air began to seep into her bones.
He headed to the other side of the bus. “What’s your bag look like?”
She winced. “I told you, it’s black.”
He hunched a bit lower, searching the bins beneath the bus. “I’m gonna need a better description than that.”
“Fine,” she announced. “It’s a Prada knockoff.”
Hawke laughed and stood back up. She fought the urge to flirt with him. She wanted them to go inside, together.
“Don’t ask. It’s black, okay, with a shiny little metal tag.”
“Well, it’s not here.”
Marissa kept her eyes on the boy as he helped her over the icy patch.
Heading to the wooden walkway, he kept his stride with her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
She needed a hot shower, she knew that. Her face was nearly frozen.
“It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow. But I suggest you wear a ski coat and something not so pretty.”
Her cheeks rose at the compliment. “I can do that.”
“So,” Hawke yanked the door to the lobby, “why does one buy a knockoff?”
She snickered. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Okay. You’re on.”
The blast of warm air was just as welcoming the second time as it was the first. “Maybe your bag has resurfaced? Things get lost real easy with this many people.”
Marissa set her sights on the shrinking pile of luggage in the middle of the room. “Or stolen.”
Marissa moved coats and book bags in search of her medium-sized bag. Hawke stooped down behind the couches.
“Need some help?” Evan tugged up his sleeves and reached for a few black bags.
He moved a few items when Hawke lifted a suitcase from behind an armchair. “I got it.” Lifting it up so Marissa could see, he read the tag out loud, “P-R-A-D-A. That’s you girl.”
Marissa leapt over the bags. Her hero. “That’s it.”
“Put it down Davies, I’ll take it.”
Hawke set the bag beside Marissa. Evan’s face turned a shade of purple. He stormed around the pile, “I said, give me the bag.”
Hawke rolled his shoulder back and stepped in front of Marissa. Evan picked up the bag and stared Hawke down like a pit bull.
“We’re fine, Evan. I can carry my bag.”
Hawke lifted up her second suitcase and took her hand.
Evan smacked it away from him and it dropped to the floor.
“Evan, that’s my stuff!”
The chaperones rushed over. “What’s going on?”
Marissa didn’t want to draw attention. “Evan, back off. You could have broken something.”
The boys eyed each other but Hawke didn’t budge. “Have this loser pick them up.”
“Is there a problem, Hawke?” a chaperone asked. He shook his head. “No, just an accident. We’re fine.”
The man looked at all three of them, but Evan walked away.
Hawke didn’t miss a beat. He retrieved the bag and nudged her along. “Come on, I’ll show you where Rod posts the room assignments.”
Marissa was too concerned with where Hawke was staying to care about her room. “Looks like you’re right below me.”
He cracked a smile as she took in his scent. Was it cologne or just nice shampoo? Who can tell anymore? Either way it was inviting.
Hawke pushed the door open with his foot and let Marissa in. The place needed to be remodeled. But then again, she had Hawke so who cared. The hallway was bustling with kids like Christmas shoppers on their last-minute quests— at least until they laid eyes on Hawke. One by one their heads turned, afraid to make eye contact. Then a wave of uneasiness crept up the hall and choked out most of the air.
Marissa swallowed as if she were walking down death row. She glanced up at Hawke, aching over what she saw. Hawke kept his pace and never blinked. “So what about your stuff? Are you unpacked?”
“Nope. I can do that later.”
Hawke stopped outside room eight. Marissa opened the door and eyed the bunk beds. This is not what she was expecting.
Stephanie waltzed out of the bathroom with her hairbrush in hand.
Marissa’s voice lowered. “What are you doing here?”
Hawke stepped around her and swung the duffel bag across the room. “This is my room. I should ask you that.”
Stephanie looked at Hawke. “Drop the bag and get out of here.”
Marissa felt her blood curdling. Her anger had been well suppressed these past few months, but Stephanie seemed to be stirring it up again. “You better watch who you’re talking to.”
Stephanie stepped closer, ready for a cat fight. “What’d you say?”
Hawke clenched the doorframe and pulled Marissa back.
She looked back at him. His face was soft and gentle. “Don’t do it.”
Hawke’s voice immediately calmed her. She wanted the connection with him more than the fight with Blondie. She looked back at the girl, flustered with jealousy. “You like him, is that it?”
Stephanie’s eyes brimmed with fire. “Keep him away from me! You got it?” With a huff she slammed the bathroom door.
Marissa looked up at Hawke. “What is everybody’s problem?”
Hawke stepped away from her, like a bear retreating to his cave. “I’m the common problem.”
“What do you mean?”
He swallowed. “I was dating her before I met you.”
Marissa felt her heart collapse.
5 Time to Thaw
The meeting hall was still empty when Marissa slid in the back row. Why had she come here? Without meaning it, Hawke ripped her chances away by announcing his prior involvement with Stephanie. Though she didn’t come on this trip looking for Sean’s replacement, she liked Hawke. But she was, with great intention, not going to pal around with some guy while his ex-girlfriend lurked around every corner.
She thumbed through the packet the chaperones handed out. It included a map of Campo Station, hiking trails, the nurse’s station, hours for the cafeteria and other essentials. What it didn’t show was where you could get cell reception.
Marissa was sure that if a bar surfaced on her phone, she would call her mother and demand cab fare for the ride home. Why should she stay in this hellhole? Everybody here was a liar.
Rod opened the meeting with a brief greeting. She twisted in her seat, trying not to make eye contact with Evan, Stephanie or Hawke— who, incidentally, appeared to be missing. Rod was one of those high school Algebra types, the kind who looked like a boring husband and an overworked employee. There was no point in listening to him. He knew nothing.
Marissa wasn’t really sure what happened after that. Her mind drifted to dark places she didn’t have words for.
~~~
When the evening meeting was over, there were still forty-five minutes till lights out — plenty of time to do what? Maybe she could go for a walk in the dark and get lost. That was always an option.
This sour mood reared its head on a weekly basis and was typically aimed at her mother. This time Marissa was loaded with nowhere to fire. Had she been a little more open to the message the pastor spoke, Marissa would have seen Hawke lumbering up behind her. He tapped her shoulder, unaware of the storm he was sure to encounter.
Marissa swung around and looked up at him. She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and stared at the boy. “What?”
“Ooh,” he recoiled. “Did I do something I don’t know about?”
“What do you mean,” she sneered.
He raked his hair back. “You seem a little perturbed.”
“Perturbed.” Her grimace returned. “Who talks like that? What do you want anyway?”
Hawke stepped back. “I wanted to talk to you but you took off earlier and it’s clear you don’t want to talk now.”
“I don’t want to talk to anybody!”
She turned her back on him. “Is this about Stephanie? Because that’s the last thing I remember speaking about before you switched personalities on me.”
Her jaw dropped. “You know, I’ve had enough already with all the drama in this place. I came here to get away from this type of crap, not to have more of it shoved in my face.”
“Well you should take an inventory of who’s slinging crap. Because I am not the one causing a problem here. You are. I’m the only person in this place who seems willing to talk to you and you are being a complete jerk.”
Marissa was speechless. No one talked to her like that, only her mother.
“Look, I’m heading downstairs to unpack. I wanted you to come with me but not if you’re just gonna yell at me.”
Marissa was listening.
“If you want to talk, you know where I’ll be. Room 16.”
She was stunned. Within one minute he completely stripped her defenses and just walked away. Angry or not, Marissa was totally calm. And she didn’t want to be. How did he do that?
She retreated to the shower to figure this thing out. He was definitely pursuing her, and correcting her. He was over Stephanie, so much so that she wouldn’t have guessed there was anything there. And maybe there wasn’t. Either way, she liked Hawke. She’d always liked Hawke. And this was her chance. She wasn’t going to let Stephanie’s antics keep her away.
After a brief shower, she twisted up her hair so she could straighten her curls in the morning. She figured that if she took a quick stroll down to the recreation room she’d run into Hawke. This was so she didn’t look desperate. Her plan was to randomly bump into him and take it from there.
A quick change of clothes and she was ready. She leaned toward the mirror and coated her lips with a pale gloss. Go get him, Riss.
With a squirt of her new perfume she charged out the door ready to find him. But three feet outside the bathroom she stopped mid-stride. Her clothes had been tossed off the top bunk and were strewn across the floor.
Marissa’s nostrils flared. She spotted Brianna on the top bunk. “I don’t suppose you know how my stuff landed on the floor?”
“Sure I do.” She sucked on a lollipop and flipped the page of her magazine. “Stephanie decided to sleep up there.”
“So she just threw my things all over the room?”
“Actually no, she rolled them off.”
Marissa searched the bag to make sure nothing was missing. With a heap of clothes in her arms she tossed them to the lower bunk on the opposite side of the room. “Is there a drawer I can use for my things?”
Brianna pointed to the dresser along the wall. “Try the second shelf from the bottom.”
Marissa wadded up a pair of underwear, wringing it in frustration. She opened the dilapidated drawer and began refolding her clothes.
Brianna kept reading. “You know, you could get down and help me with this.”
“Nah. I’m comfy.”
Marissa stuffed her things in and shut the drawer. “I’m glad to see you are still submissive to Miss Witch even when she’s not here.”
Brianna sat up. “You better watch what you say. And stay away from Hawke.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
Brianna shrugged. “It’s your funeral if you want to date sleaze boy.”
Marissa skipped out on the bait. “Do you honestly think I am afraid of you or Stephanie, or even Evan?”
Brianna exhaled. “I’m just saying, Steph runs the show around here. And she gets her way. So you better watch it.”
Marissa had been here a thousand times before. Sean had droves of women swirling around him. Her skin was thick and Stephanie was not the type of girl that made her jealous. “All that tells me is Stephanie’s still stuck on Hawke, and she’s as green as a clover. And for good reason -- he’s obviously over her.”
“You know, if you think you’re better than us because you’ve dated a college guy or slept around, you may want to consider how it looks for the new girl to give it up to the drug pusher thug you are hanging with.”
“You know, I am already sick of this pious routine around here. He’s not even guilty.”
“Oh no?” Brianna hopped down from the bunk. “She dated him through rehab. What would you call that? A convicted dealer who uses, and you still believe his story?”
She cocked her hip. “Sounds to me like Stephanie believed that way before I did.”
“Facts are facts,” Brianna said. “Everybody here knows who and what he is. Evan was trying to spare you.”
“Hawke’s a decent person and that’s what matters. Not that he got arrested.”
“So it’s okay that he sold drugs to my friends? You think that’s tolerable? You’ll defend him?”
Marissa kept listening but only to prove her point. “I give Stephanie a lot of credit for staying with him. She’s been through he
ll,” Brianna said.
Marissa sneered. “That’s funny. I don’t remember seeing her there.”
She stormed out the door and slammed it behind her. And that’s all it took for the tears to start falling.
Marissa huffed up the hall, past the chaperones and through the double doors to the lobby. With another shove she was outside of the building, fists raised up to the darkened sky. In her mind, she screamed, as a plethora of curses sailed off her tongue.
With her arms locked at her chest she burst back into the building and lumbered to the dying fire. She wasn’t going back to her room until they made her. And she wasn’t going to make amends with her roommate either.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and hid behind the cape of her hair. If she stayed low enough maybe no one would see her.
“Want some company?” She parted her hair to see Hawke’s scuffed boots standing in front of her.
“I want to go home,” she patted her eyes.
Hawke scooped his cumbersome body down to the floor. “Is Stephanie bothering you?”
“Both of them. And Evan.” She sniffled. “I just don’t get it.”
Hawke’s head lowered. “I’m sorry they are getting to you. They probably just feel threatened.”
“By me?” Somehow that made her feel good.
“Of course. Everyone thinks they know me. But they don’t. And when someone they don’t know enters their world, it throws the whole balance off-kilter.”
The fire quieted as Marissa stared at Hawke. His eyes were dancing in the reflection of the dying flames.
“I’d like to believe that. But sometimes, people are just mean and nasty.”
Hawke smiled. “No. People are jealous, insecure and lonely.”
She swallowed and looked away. “I can understand that.”
He leaned closer to her. “Look, everybody needs a break sometimes. Maybe you’ll get yours this weekend. Don’t give up yet.”
Half of what he said lightened her heart and the other half just floated around in her head. One peek into his silvery eyes and her tears stopped. “Trust me,” he replied, holding out his hand to her. “By the end of the weekend you’ll be glad you came.”
Collapse: The Tale of Waking Marissa Page 4
