“How’s your family?" Kristen asked a couple minutes later.
“They’re fine,” Lucy said automatically. “Yours?”
“They’re good." Kristen stared around awkwardly. “The buses should be here shortly.”
“And the chaperones,” said Lucy, trying not to sound too cynical. “Ms. Baxter leading the pack.”
“She’s something else, isn’t she?" Kristen asked, suppressing a giggle. “You’re lucky you went out for swimming, not softball.”
“I guess — I didn’t make the team,” said Lucy, wishing that she had brought a jacket with her.
A car drove up and three boys got out: Nate Evers, Jas Masters, and Tim Blaine. Nate waved to the cheerleaders, then sauntered over to Lucy. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she responded.
He was in knee-length cut-off jeans that showed off the muscles in his calves, and a teal, short-sleeved silly Hawaiian shirt. There was a hint of stubble on his jaw and upper lip, dark-blond, and he had a twinkle in his eyes that radiated confidence. “You ready for Ditch Day?”
“I think so,” said Lucy, feeling more than seeing the awed stare that Kirsten gave Nate.
“I’m gonna sit with my crew on the bus. You and me’ll catch up at the ranch. Okay?" He reached out and flipped the ends of her hair.
Watching him, Lucy thought he winked at her. She wanted to ask him if that were Catherine’s idea, but managed to smile in acceptance. “Sure. That’ll be fine.”
“Good girl,” Nate approved before he turned and strolled back to Jas and Tim, whistling a little as he went.
Lucy felt both pleased and exasperated. “Not that I could do anything to stop him,” she said quietly.
“Well, you aren’t Catherine, so what did you expect?” asked Kristen, who had overheard. “Besides, Nate and Jas and Tim and Riley and Dean hang out together all the time — everyone knows that.”
Ms. Baxter arrived next. She bustled up to Lucy and Kristen to check them off her list. “You can get on your bus as soon as it arrives,” she said, and toddled off to the cheerleaders to mark them present.
A black SUV pulled into the curb and Alison, Tricia, and Shaniqua piled out, each one dressed in spectacularly casual clothes, each one carrying large, well-laden totes. When Alison caught sight of Lucy, she glowered at her.
“Pretty-girl politics,” said Kristen, who was solid of build and had a face that required growing into. In ten years she would become attractive but just now had too much jaw and cheekbone to be more than okay.
“I guess,” said Lucy, trying to subdue the dread that roiled within her. She spread a smile across her face and said, “Look. The buses are coming.”
And so they were. Four yellow buses with Cosmo Bender High School on their sides were drawing up at the front of the school, their engines grumbling and their breaks seething. When they stopped, their doors opened with a hiss, ready for the sophomores to board.
For a couple of irrational seconds, Lucy wondered if it might be better to wait for the fifth bus that would be taking Tom Foster and a bunch of other science geeks to the Tech Museum, but she banished the notion at once and made for the third bus in line.
“Aren’t you going to ride in the first bus, with Nate? You’re his date, aren’t you?" Kristen asked, puzzled.
“Second choice. I’m riding with the band, and we already agreed on bus three. Jocks, cheerleaders, and popular kids in the first, social cliques in number two, the band in three, the artsy bunch in number four." None of these assignments were official, but they had been agreed upon among the sophomore class, and most of the Ditchers knew enough to abide by the arrangement.
“But wouldn’t Catherine have ridden with him?" Kristen asked, then looked as if she wanted to disappear for such a gaffe.
Lucy gave a little nod. “She’s a cheerleader, so of course she’d ride with him — them."
“And odd balls like me wherever we can find to fit in? We know that already." Kristen spoke without rancor, knowing too well how the high school pecking order worked.
Lucy gave her a sudden, wide smile. “Yeah. Like that." She glanced at her milling classmates in time to see Ben Davidson get in line for the fourth bus; she resisted the impulse to wave at him.
Kristen shrugged and climbed up the stairs behind Lucy. “Front or back?”
“Front,” said Lucy, and plunked herself down in the second row behind the driver, waiting for more band members to arrive.
“Okay,” said Kristen, and sat down beside her.
In ten minutes, the bus was half full, most of Lucy’s classmates in high spirits, some of them already beginning to whoop and holler in anticipation of Ditch Day in all its glory. Karl Steiner, who taught music and led the band and orchestra, was the chaperone for the day, along with Chloe Esterman, who, as conductor of the five Cosmo Bender choral groups, did the same for singing as Mister Steiner did for instruments. Mister Steiner made his way to the middle of the bus and sat down, making an unofficial barrier between the Sophomore Chorale and the band.
Finally a last-minute flurry of arrivals — including Ms. Esterman — scrambled aboard the various buses, the doors snorted closed, the engines rumbled to life, and they were off, bound for Woodbine Ranch.
Kristen hugged her L.L. Bean tote. “I’m excited. Aren’t you?”
“Kind of,” Lucy said, and realized that she needed a more enthusiastic answer. “I guess I’ll be more so when I’m really awake." To reinforce her remark, she yawned.
“Oh, yeah. We got up pretty early." Kristen glanced toward the rear of the bus where most of her Sophomore Chorale buddies were sitting. “But it’s gonna be worth it.”
“When the fog burns off, it’ll warm up — that’ll help,” said Lucy and turned to gaze out the window as the buses lumbered onto 280, headed to Highway 17, which led over the Coast Range to Santa Cruz and Aptos. A little while later, she pretended to doze, lulled by the movement of the bus and the drone of conversation.
* * *
A sudden lurch of the bus jarred her out of her nap, and Lucy realized she must have actually fallen asleep. She looked out the window and saw the foot of the off-ramp in Aptos ahead of them; the first bus was already turning left under the freeway, away from the shine of Monterey Bay. “Aptos,” she said, and heard Kristen laugh. She peered at Kristen, and was pleased to see that most of the fog was gone.
“Hi, sleepyhead,” she said as Lucy sat up straight in her seat.
Lucy made her best attempt at a smile. “I didn’t think I was that tired.”
“Well, it’s probably better to nap now than later." Kristen reached into her large, practical tote and pulled out a bottle of water. “Here. You look like you could use drink.”
“I’ve got some of my own,” said Lucy, patting the side of her magenta tote, but she took the proffered bottle. “Still, thanks.”
“Welcome. There’s five of them in here."
The bus rumbled up to a stoplight, turned right down a street lined with shops, some trendy some touristy, making for the next stoplight.
“Did you go to Freshman Ditch Day last year?” Lucy asked. “I didn’t.”
“Yeah. We had a great time at the Exploratorium,” said Kristen. “This year’s freshmen went up Wednesday instead of Tuesday.”
“Next year is Alcatraz,” said Lucy, wondering if she really wanted to go see that rocky island in San Francisco Bay, and the old prison there. She’d have to ask one of the juniors about it.
“And then on to the Capitol tour in Sacramento for seniors,” said Kristen, reciting the traditional class Ditch Days for Cosmo Bender students. “I think that sophomores have the best deal. We can have lots of fun and not worry about learning things.”
The bus swung into the left-turn lane.
“About eight miles more." Lucy sipped from the bottle Kristen had given her. “The road gets windey and narrow.”
“But okay for the buses, right?" Kristen asked.
“They’ve always made it t
o the ranch okay before,” Lucy said, beginning to wonder if she should have made a talisman for this outing: thinking back on how the spell she had cast had turned out, she decided she was better off without one.
A few rows back, Chloe Esterman was tuning up the Sophomore Chorale for a round of school songs, and one or two of their concert pieces.
“Why do people always want to sing when they’re traveling?" Lucy asked the air, but quietly enough not to be overheard except by Kristen.
“I know what you mean,” said Kristen, also keeping her voice low. “My mom’s always encouraging us to sing something when we’re on the road.”
“So aren’t you going to join them?" Lucy asked; Kristen was in both the Sophomore Chorale and the much more revered Madrigal Singers.
“Maybe,” said Kristen.
Ms. Esterman got out her pitch pipe and gave each voice its note, then held up her hands to start them on the school song:
In the state of California
In Palo Alto Hills
Stands our high school, Cosmo Bender
Source of learning skills.
Bounteous Bender, we applaud you
And will your fame increase.
In your guidance we’ll not falter
Our learning ne’er to cease.
“Who wrote those lyrics?" Kristen asked Lucy as the Chorale launched into the second verse.
“Aren’t they non-poppers?" Lucy answered.
“Like a really limp advertising pitch-jingle,” said Kristen. Making a gagging gesture.
“Eee-uw,” said Lucy.
Now some of the band members were singing along, and seemed to be truly enjoying themselves, and by the time the third bus rolled through the gates of Woodbine Ranch everyone in the bus was singing.
19
“Make sure you’ve got all your things with you. The buses probably won’t be locked while we’re here, so keep your property in your own hands," Ms. Baxter bellowed. “Take the path to the picnic tables and you can chose what you want to do between now and lunch!”
Mister Tran, who taught World History and Current Affairs, added his bit to Ms. Baxter’s. “Keep on the marked trails. Be careful of poison oak, and stay away from rock clusters—there may be rattlesnakes.”
“We’ve been all through this,” Kristen whispered to Lucy as they climbed out of the bus. “It was all on the school’s website.”
“You know teachers,” said Lucy. “They tell you everything twice.”
“Three times,” Kristen corrected her, then, as they neared the picnic tables, she grew awkward. “Well, I guess I’ll see you here around lunch?”
“I guess,” said Lucy, unsure if Nate would expect her to join him, or if she wanted to sit with him, his crew, and the cheerleaders.
Kristen nodded. “See you then,” she said, and followed the Chorale members toward the large open stone hearth where their lunch would be cooked.
“Hey, Lucy,” Nate called from behind her.
“Nate,” she said, turning to watch him come down the easy slope into the shelter of the scrub oaks that provided the grove for the hearth. “Do you know what you’d like to do?”
“Yeah,” he said with a wink, “but Catherine isn’t here.”
Lucy did her best to smile as if his remark were clever. “Well, what would you like to do instead?”
“I figure we’ll do a hike around the lake. No reason to take a canoe, is there? Too many people watching, you know? Walking’s better." This was obviously not a suggestion; the set of his jaw made it plain that he expected agreement.
“No reason,” she said, and fell in slightly behind him as they continued to the picnic tables.
A tall, rangy guy of about thirty-five stood in front of the stone hearth, a real cowboy hat on his head, pushed back at the front brim to show his features. “Welcome, sophomores, I’m your coordinator, Matt Bergeron,” he said, his voice low and carrying. “Most of you have already seen what we have to offer here at Woodbine Ranch. There’re a couple of rules to keep in mind while you’re here. First, no drinking. If we catch any of you with booze of any kind, you’ll be put in your bus and confined there until you leave. Second, no grass or any other kind of recreational chemicals. Same thing’ll happen if you have pills or weed. Third, don’t take any foolish risks. Don’t light fires away from this hearth. Don’t grandstand. No daredevil stunts. This ranch isn’t a thrill ride and none of you are super-heroes. Fourth, if you damage it, you will replace it. Fifth, stay within the resort boundaries. There’s fifty-six acres of it, so you shouldn’t get too bored unless you want to. Sixth, those of you who’re going to swim, stay in the part of the lake roped off for swimming. For those of you hiking, we’ll have riders on the fence today, so don’t think you can get away into the hills. You could get lost — it’s happened once before. It’s not gonna happen again. Keep these things in mind and we’ll all have a good time." He paused, “Any questions?”
There were none.
“So’s you know, we have fishing poles, rowboats and canoes, there’re three badminton courts behind the main house, and our naturalist, Susan Pater, is available to you.”
“What about horses? Can we rent horses?” Tim Blaine shouted.
Matt shook his head. “Sorry, our insurance doesn’t cover that. If you’d brought your own horses, we’d arrange a guide for you.”
“Any bicycles?”
“We have a dozen trail bikes and helmets. If you decide to bike, you will wear a helmet. The bikes take a deposit. Talk to Ed Vale." He pointed to a guy in oil-stained coveralls who was in deep conversation with one of the bus drivers.
“Are there any other precautions these kids need?" Ms. Baxter bawled out.
“Nope. That about covers it. Be back here by twelve-thirty. We’ll sound the dinner bell ten minutes ahead of when we start serving." He clapped his hands together. “Okay. Off you go.”
“What about a hike around the lake?" Nate reminded Lucy. “There’s a trail.”
“I know,” said Lucy, noticing the disapproving look Nate shot at her. “I’ve been here before, with my dad and brothers.”
“Oh. That’s convenient,” said Nate, offering her a toothy smile. “Then you can show me where to go." He swung around toward his crew, made a number of hand signals, heard Jas and Tim laugh, then turned back to Lucy. “Well? Off with you.”
Lucy gave him a long look, then turned and made her way down the gentle slope to the place where three trails met. “The Lake Trail is the one that—guess what? goes around the lake. Do you want to lead?”
“I’m right behind you,” said Nate.
“Do you want to fish?”
“Why would I want to do that?" There was contempt in his tone, and the air of one bestowing favor on the undeserving that made Lucy want to slap him.
“Because there’s a lake stocked with trout,” Lucy said as if it were obvious.
“Spend the day with a line dropped in the water? You gotta be ozwonked.” Nate laughed without amusement. “Go on out the trail,” he told her.
Tim held up his hand. “Have a good time,” he called out to Nate.
“That’s my plan,” Nate replied. “Hey, Lucy, get going.”
“If that’s what you want,” said Lucy, thinking that she hadn’t realized how bossy he was. She struck out for the trailhead, moving with a long, easy stride in the warm morning. She told herself she hadn’t expected any show of attention from Nate, which was good, since she clearly wasn’t getting any beyond the most cursory. Reminding herself that there was only so much she was expected to do as his substitute date, she kept on at a good pace until they were once again in the shadow of trees on the western side of the lake, and some hundred feet above the water. The trail was clearly marked, it climbed gradually, and was well-maintained which made walking it quite pleasant, but here in the grove of oak and birch, she felt oddly isolated, and that left her uncomfortably aware that she was alone with Nate. She couldn’t think why that bothered her, sin
ce she’d been looking forward to just this for the last six days.
“Keep on,” Nate told her, apparently content to let her continue to lead the way.
Just beyond the western grove the trail began a second upward climb, not steep, but enough to slow their pace. They emerged from the trees onto a broad, rocky shelf about a hundred fifty feet above the lake; the shelf was cut in two by a fast-running stream crossed by a sturdy plank bridge, and Lucy started across it, pausing looking down at the rushing stream. They were now about a mile and a half from the grove where lunch would shortly be cooked. “It flows into the lake over there,” she said pointing. “There’s a little waterfall right below this bridge.”
“So there is,” said Nate sounding completely bored. He came up behind her, and she once again had to fight down a sense of unease.
“Don’t you want to look at it?" Lucy asked. “It’s quite a nice place, down below.”
“Not particularly; I’m not into that kind of nature,” Nate answered, but he came closer. “A long way to fall." He leaned over her shoulder, staring down as he chuckled.
“That’s not funny,” said Lucy.
Nate shrugged. “I’m getting thirsty. How much beer did you bring?”
She swung around to stare at him. “Beer? Why would I bring beer?”
“It’s Ditch Day,” he said as if it were an explanation.
Lucy shifted her stance so he couldn’t reach her tote. “I didn’t bring any. It’s against the rules for Ditch Day. I’ve got four bottles of water.”
He gave her an incredulous stare. “You’re kidding, right?”
Lucy’s unease sharpened. “No, I’m not kidding,” she declared, a little more loudly than she had intended.
Nate shook his head. “Catherine said you knew about what to do. I thought she told you what to bring.”
“Well, if beer’s part of what you expected from me, she never mentioned it." Lucy moved away from him, trying to decide if the oversight had been deliberate on Catherine’s part; she felt a twinge of panic as he followed her.
Nate swore under his breath, then tried to make light of his disappointment. “I guess you’re right. This isn’t a good time to get into trouble. Especially for you.”
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