by Danika Stone
Vale groaned and pulled the covers over her head. “Like I could forget.”
Her mother came around the side of the bed, and Vale felt the mattress dip as she sat down. The cat began to purr. “Valeria,” her mother said gently. “You’re worrying about nothing.”
“It’s not the hiking that worries me. It’s the people.” Vale tugged the blankets off her face. “The kids in my class hate me.”
“They don’t hate you.”
“They do.”
“Then hang out with Ashton. He’s coming along, right?”
She and Ash had been friends forever. He didn’t mind that Vale was at the bottom of the high school pecking order, and she never minded that he was a full-time gamer with questionable hygiene. They clicked when no one else did. But Ash wasn’t the only one coming on the trip …
Vale glanced at her phone’s screen. No answer yet. “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “As far as I know, he’s still coming, but—”
“Stick it out and you’ll be fine. It’s only two days of—”
“Pure and utter torture. Boys harassing me. Making fun of each and every—”
“There are three chaperones going. Three,” her mother interrupted. “If you have an issue with those kids again, just tell someone.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is. Teachers are paid to deal with things like that.” Her mother frowned. “Honestly, I think you’re being overly sensitive.”
Vale wanted to argue, but she knew it was useless. Her mother saw high school troubles through the rosy-hued glasses of someone who’d been popular. Vale’s mother was a onetime cheerleader and homecoming queen; she’d married her high school sweetheart. Truth was, Vale’s mother had no idea what actual high school was like. She might as well have grown up in a television sitcom!
“I bet Mike teases because he’s got a crush on you. If you paid him a little attention—”
“Mom, STOP!” This was another thing Vale’s mother never understood: Vale was aro-ace, both aromantic and asexual. She’d told her parents she just wasn’t interested in dating any number of times … But they never seemed to get it. To them, Vale’s sexuality was a “phase” that they were certain she would one day outgrow. Their obliviousness was a raw spot for Vale. “That’s not why Mike bugs me,” she said. “He’s a jerk. He always has been. Same with his friends.”
“Then stick with Ash.”
“I will,” Vale said, “but there are only so many times I can listen to a recap of Outer Realm Annihilation without falling into a coma.”
Her mother broke into a peal of laughter so bright and happy that for a moment Vale could see why everyone loved her so much. Her mother was full of joy. If Vale had been in high school in 1999, she would have idolized Debra too.
“Don’t sound so grumpy, Vale.” Her mother tousled the top of her daughter’s hair. “You’ll love it once you’re out there.” She turned back in the doorway. “And if Mike teases you, try talking to him, sweetheart. You never know where it’ll—”
“Nope,” Vale said. This was the sort of willful ignorance that frustrated her: The suggestion that she’d fall for a guy if she’d just give him a chance to prove himself. “That’s not going to happen, Mom.”
“Oh, Vale, come on. You’ll have a great time with your class.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Her mother sighed and closed the door.
* * *
It was 7:15 when Vale arrived at the school parking lot. With all the excitement of someone on their way to the electric chair, she joined the line of students on the sidewalk. She scanned the crowd, and her smile disappeared. Ash was late … really late. Perhaps he had persuaded his mother he was sick after all. Panic flared—sharp-edged and fluttering—within her chest. That would mean having no one to buffer her from Mike and Brodie’s harassment.
Vale pulled out her phone. Seeing nothing waiting on-screen from Ash, her frown deepened.
She typed in a quick text.
You packed yet? I’m already at school.
She hit send and waited. Nothing happened. Ash was either off his phone (a scientific impossibility) or not answering his texts. The uneasy feeling in her chest grew. What if he skips out?
Suddenly her phone buzzed, and Vale scrambled to check it. A message from Bella waited on-screen.
Just posted my latest aro-ace vlog, if you want to take a peek!
Vale and Bella had met online two years earlier, when Vale had sought out an online community for support. Bella, living in another city, had been one of the first people Vale had clicked with. Their friendship had kept Vale afloat through her torturous middle school years, and on any other day of the week, Bella and Vale texted almost as much as Vale and Ash did. Today, Bella’s support wasn’t going to cut it.
Vale tapped in a one-handed reply, then hit send.
Can’t look at it today, B. The highlight of the high school PE program is about to begin.
For twenty seconds there was nothing and then …
Wait. You’re heading off today??? I thought your trip was tomorrow!
Nope. Just about to leave.
Sorry! That sucks.
You KNOW it. Forecast says rain. Maybe even snow. (I have a coat and scarf though.)
Before Bella could reply, Ms. Holland, their physical education teacher, strode out of the school. Vale’s thumbs blurred over the screen.
Ugh. HELLand just got here.
Okay. Ping me when you’re back. Have an AMAZING time, V!
Doubtful.
Your friend Ash is coming along with you, right?
Scowling, Vale typed in a quick answer.
Supposedly-but he’s not here yet.
Yikes! What happened???
Looks like he ditched. I’m flying solo.
Sorry Vale! That sucks.
SRSLY. Got to go. The phone police are on the way.
Vale hit send and slid the phone deep into her jacket pocket as the teacher neared. Around her, other students did the same. Ms. Holland carried a large purple Tupperware container under one muscled arm.
“You know the routine,” she said. “Phones out. Put them in the box.” A chorus of moans filled the early morning air.
Inside Vale’s pocket, her phone buzzed as a new text arrived, but she didn’t take it out to check.
“Vale?” Ms. Holland said. “Your phone.”
“What if something happens on the trip, and I need to contact my parents?” Vale asked.
“There won’t be any reception where we’re hiking. Your phone’s dead weight.”
“What if I want to take a picture?”
“The permission letter expressly said ‘no phones.’ You want pictures? You should have brought a camera.”
“But Ms. Holland—”
“No exceptions.”
“But why?”
“Because last time I led a group on an ‘outback adventure,’ a student lost her phone in the woods and we wasted four hours looking for it. Didn’t reach the buses until dark.” Ms. Holland shook the purple container. “Best bet is to leave them here. You can have your phone back when we return tomorrow.”
“Fine.” With a resigned sigh, Vale dropped her phone into the box.
She stepped out of line just as a rusted orange Honda with a mismatched blue door came to a squealing stop on the street. A disheveled-looking teen tumbled out of the driver’s seat. “WAIT!” Ash shouted. “Wait for me!” He grabbed a hastily filled backpack with clothing hanging half out of it, slammed the door with his knee, then sprinted forward, cell phone held aloft.
The tension in Vale’s chest released, and a wide grin broke across her face. Ash came after all!
If Ashton Hamid had a Patronus, it was an overgrown Great Dane. He was all long arms and knobby-kneed legs, bony elbows and size-sixteen feet. The resemblance extended to his face too. His brown eyes seemed perennially tired, punctuated by drooping lids and sloping black brows. Chin-length hair flopped over
his eyes and behind his ears. His clothes—bought to fit his six-and-a-half-foot frame—always looked three sizes too big.
“Woo-hoo! I made it!” Ash shouted as he ran toward the class. “Ms. Holland! MS. HOLLAND! I’m—”
Halfway across the parking lot, he tripped over his untied laces and his bag tumbled to the ground, spewing clothing across the pavement. Kids laughed. (Whether it was intentional or not, he often played the role of comic relief for the class.) Ash grinned as he grabbed his pack off the ground and jammed a dropped sweatshirt and socks back inside, then half jogged, half skipped to Vale’s side. Laughter filled the air.
“Nice entrance,” she said. “You might get a standing ovation next time.”
He did a stage bow. “It’s all in the timing.”
“Timing, hmm?” She giggled. “I thought it was untied laces.”
“They’re my signature, you know. Pure class.”
Vale laughed “Classy is not the word that came to mind. It looks more like you—”
Her words were cut off by a grating voice. “Hashbrown! You made it. Thought we were gonna have to leave without you!”
Vale flinched. Mike. On the first day of ninth grade, Ash had dropped a plate full of hash browns in the middle of the school’s cafeteria. Mike spent a solid month harassing Ash about the incident and his teasing had spawned a nickname: Hashbrown. It stuck.
Ash turned and grinned. “Hey, man! Good to see ya.”
“Figured you were skipping out!”
“Nah … just late as usual,” Ash said. “You know how it is.”
“Not as much as YOU do,” Mike said, punching Ash’s shoulder.
Ash took a ninja pose, and the kids around him giggled. “What can I say?” he said. “Slacking’s a skill. One I have honed through my many years of practice.”
“A skill, huh?” Mike snorted.
“Absolutely. Let me teach you my ways, young grasshopper.”
Mike cackled as Vale rolled her eyes.
Ash had the gift of laughter. Everyone he met was his friend, even those hardened students who seemed to revel in torturing others. Ash seemed immune. He went along with Mike’s teasing—turning the barbs into self-effacing jokes. Even though Vale knew Mike was trolling Ash, she admired that the stupid comments never bothered him. She wished she had the ability to do the same.
“Brodie, Ethan, and me already claimed the back seats in the bus,” Mike said. “Good view of the girls in the class.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You joining us?”
Ash’s gaze flicked to Vale almost too fast to see. “Nah, I’m good,” he said with a grin. “Gotta grab a few Zs before we hit the trail.”
“Well, if you’re planning to sleep, ain’t nothing better than hanging with Valley Girl,” Mike snorted. “She’s a certified sleep aide.”
“Go away, Mike,” Vale said coldly.
He laughed. “Or what? You gonna lecture me to death?”
She shot him a dirty look. “I could start now, if you’d like.”
Ash’s head wobbled, and he held out his arms like a sleepwalker. “I’m feeling sleepy … so sleepy…,” he droned.
Vale glared. “Not funny, Ash.” She hated when he went along with the teasing.
“Yeah, Hashbrown! That’s how it is!” Mike punched his shoulder. “So you gonna hang out with me and the boys or what? Come on. It’s gonna be great!”
“Nah, I’m good, man.” Ash dipped his chin. “I’m not kidding about having a nap.”
“Your loss, buddy!”
Ash turned back to Vale as Mike headed off to his group of friends. For a moment, Vale considered telling Ash that she didn’t appreciate the joke at her expense, but he was grinning, so she set it aside. Ash did hang out with her. That’s what matters, isn’t it?
“So what did I miss?” Ash asked.
“Not much. Holland’s got her box and—”
“There you are, Ashton.” Ms. Holland stepped away from the other students toward the two of them.
“Hey, Ms. H! Thanks for waiting for me.”
“You’re late,” she said. “The bus is already loaded. Five more minutes and we would’ve been gone.”
“Sorry,” he said, hoisting his pack onto his shoulder. “I forgot my phone in the house and had to double back. Didn’t Vale tell you?”
Vale opened her mouth to answer, but Ms. Holland was faster. She held out the purple container. “Well, I’m glad you found it, Ashton. Now in it goes…” With a sigh, Ash dropped the phone in.
The teacher turned around, balancing the plastic box on her hip as she shouted directions to the rest of the group. “We’ve got everyone on our list. Time to get on board! We need to get moving, people. It’s an hour and a half to Waterton and a half hour after that until we reach the trailhead…”
Vale watched as Mike Reynolds crept up behind Ms. Holland, reached past her arm into the open box, and snatched his phone back out with the ease of a practiced pickpocket. Vale opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when he shoved the phone down the front of his shorts into his crotch. She looked away. No way was she telling Holland to look there!
A moment later, Vale, Ash, and twenty-three other students were aboard. The first five rows were already full, but Vale guided them toward the sixth. She wanted to be as far away from Mike and his group as she could be. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell Holland I was going to be late,” Ash said as they reached a pair of open seats. “You’re supposed to be my responsibility champion.”
Vale shoved her backpack under the seat in front of her. “I am your responsibility champion. I told you to pack.”
“You did, but Holland almost left without me!”
“Sorry about that,” Vale said. “Gotta say, I can’t believe you were actually late getting here. You live like three blocks from the school.”
“Hey now. I made it. Didn’t I?”
She laughed. “It’s pretty lazy to drive, you know.”
“Lazy?!” Ash’s brows disappeared under his hair. He looked like a Muppet when he was trying to be earnest. “I couldn’t let you do the survival-in-the-woods thing alone, could I?”
She side-eyed him. “I thought you were going to ditch.”
“Mom wasn’t buying the whole appendicitis thing. Wanted me to go to the doctor’s office.”
“That’s the trouble with having a mom who’s a nurse.” Vale snorted. “Honestly, though? I’d rather spend the day at the doctor’s office, and I hate the doctor.”
“You know what the gamer said when the doctor told him he was terminal?”
“No idea. What?”
“He said: ‘Cool story, bruh. But how many lives do I have left?’”
Vale laughed and sat down next to the window while Ash settled in beside her. She peeked over the back of her seat. Mike Reynolds had tossed his pack onto the back seat to stake his claim, but he stood, blocking the aisle, as he talked to a group of girls. Vale rolled her eyes and turned back around.
Ms. Holland shouted: “Seats everyone!” and the bus started.
Vale tried to get comfortable while Ash slumped lower and lower. Soon his long legs were jammed against the back of the seat in front of him, one foot sticking into the aisle. He crossed his arms on his chest, and his lids fluttered closed. Vale kept her gaze on the road as the bus left the city and veered south. In the distance, vaulting peaks appeared, their white-painted tops glittering in the morning sunshine. Waterton Park. It was beautiful and remote, one of the most untouched places in North America. For the first time since Vale had woken, a swell of excitement rose inside her. A wide smile spread across her lips.
Ash bumped her knee with his. “What’s up?”
“What d’you mean?”
“You’re grinning at, like, nothing.”
Her smile faded. “No, I’m not.”
“You are!” He sat up. “Wait. Are you actually excited about this dumbass trip?”
“Well, I’m not sure I’d say excited, exactly, but—”
>
“You ARE!”
She giggled. “I guess I am—at least a little bit—now that I’m not hiking alone anymore.”
“I wouldn’t actually ditch you. You know that, right?”
“Uh … Sure, Ash.”
“No, really. I wouldn’t.” He yawned. “I’d at least try to get you to skip out too.”
Vale smiled despite the anxious flutters inside her chest. “Skipping school’s more your thing than mine,” she said.
“Desperate times call for desper—” A yawn overtook Ash’s words, and he wiped tears from the sides of his eyes. “Measures.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just hope I can stay awake on the trail.” He smothered another yawn under his hand. “Had a pretty late night.”
“More Dungeons & Dragons?”
“Until about midnight, yeah. When we finished up, I switched to Death Raiders; played that until a little after three. There was this team from Sweden working against the four of us. We got into the second level in the lab, but then we got ambushed by zombies. Had to fight ’em for almost an hour. The attack—” He yawned again. “Turned out all right, but I need a nap. Can’t keep my eyes open.” He glanced over the back of the seats to the rows that stretched out behind them. Three back, there was a pair open. “You mind if I move so I can lie down?”
“Go for it, Ash.”
“Cool, cool.” He gave her a wide grin as he tucked his jacket under his arm. “Wake me up when we get there. A’right? I don’t want Holland forgetting me in the bus for two days.”
Vale snorted. “You got it.”
Ash headed down the aisle as she turned back to the window. The mountaintops were shining with a dusting of new snow, the late-autumn day bright and cloudless. Vale smiled.
Maybe it’ll be all right after all.
CHAPTER TWO
“I have a bad feeling about this mission.”
MATT KOWALSKI, GRAVITY
AN HOUR LATER, Vale was regretting the decision to let Ash go to sleep. She’d been the butt of several jokes in the short time since he had switched seats. If Ms. Holland heard, she didn’t care. She was up at the front next to the driver, leaving the students in the Lord of the Flies no-man’s-land of teen bullying.