“Hey.” Ava took a seat across from him. They both started chowing down on rice and beans. She wondered why he wasn’t saying anything even after he swallowed. He kept staring past her.
“We can talk, you know.” Ava pointed to her shirt and then to his. “You moved up.”
Fringe touched his sleeve. “I didn’t have to wait for The Circle. They said I did a good job deescalating. Whatever that means.” He started patting his chest like it didn’t belong to him, like he was some kind of dog.
“Mallory’s such a liar,” Ava said. “She said OP’s like prison. You look good.”
“They say I’m better. Better. They say I know what to do now, Ava. What to do.”
Mallory dropped her tray onto the table with a clang. Ava jumped out of her seat as Fringe’s juice sloshed over the cup’s rim, spreading all over his tray. She shot Mallory a look.
In slow motion, Fringe started drawing marks and symbols with one finger in the pool of his juice. He stared at the mess, like he was afraid to look at Mallory. “They say I should forgive you for getting me in trouble.”
Justice came up behind Fringe and punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t waste food. Clean it up.”
“OP is the devil’s hole. But you can’t shut me up with a new shirt.” Fringe started ripping his napkin into smaller and smaller pieces. Blowing the scraps across the table, he puffed. “Orange. Red. Yellow. Green.”
“One more word and you’ll be back there so fast your head will spin. Pick those up.” Justice hit him so hard on the back of the head it made a horrible whack, but Fringe wouldn’t stop.
Why didn’t it matter to him, that Justice kept punishing him, when he was finally something higher than a zero?
Justice must have realized Fringe didn’t care, or couldn’t. He leaned down and put his fat lips next to Fringe’s ear, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear him.
“Give me one more goddamn reason and you won’t go down the mountain to see Auntie.”
Like someone had lifted a shade, Fringe’s eyes opened wider. “Perm to sit alone?” he asked, sitting up straight again.
“Pick that up and get your butt over there.” Justice pointed to a table in the corner where Seeds could go if they were on their last nerve.
When both of them were finally gone, Ava leaned across the table to Mallory.
“Everything about this place—including you—is messing with me. One minute he’s fine, just weird. The next minute he scares the shit out of me.”
Mallory looked across the room at Justice, then over at Fringe sitting by himself. For a second it seemed like she was trying to figure out who Ava was talking about.
“Know anything about his aunt?” Ava asked.
“Saw her down at the parent session,” she said, shoveling a spoonful of rice in her mouth, eating the food like it was actually good. Ava almost told her not to worry—no one was going to steal it from her.
“You were there?”
“I signed people in. Collected bags.”
“Did you see my dad? He’s kinda losing his hair, a little over —”
“He’s there.”
Ava didn’t get to ask Mallory anything else because there was Justice right behind her, booming out new directions.
“Last rope challenge before your overnight. Let’s go.”
Snarfing as many bites as possible on the way to return her tray, Ava got in line behind Mallory in case she had another chance to ask about her father. Justice put his hand on Mallory’s back and made a circular motion over and over, dipping lower with each rotation.
Even though his hand was on Mallory, Ava felt it. The prickly feeling on her skin made her hate herself for being glad Justice caressed Mallory’s back and not hers.
On the way to the clearing, she tried to work out how long her dad had been on the mountain, and how long it would be before she saw him. Last week, they left for their overnight right after dinner. If the challenge took an hour, there was still time to see him before the hike.
When they got to the ropes, Fringe came to stand next to Ava. Without being told, Benno hopped onto the metal footrests on a utility pole planted in front of a wooden wall.
“He’s going to let down the knotted ropes you’ll use to climb the wall,” Justice said.
Mallory kept her eyes on Benno. Once he made it to the top and dropped them, the ropes swirled and bounced, until both of them straightened themselves out near the ground. Ava had passed low ropes thanks to Fringe, but she still didn’t like the idea of this challenge. Mallory was more coordinated then the whole group put together, and she hated ropes. Ava half expected Mallory to volunteer her to go first. Then she raised her hand.
“Perm to demonstrate?”
Mallory put the harness on like she’d done it before. Ava knew she hadn’t. Talking late one night in the bunk room, she’d told Ava that she was afraid of heights, and that she was getting good at finding ways to avoid rope challenges. No one would’ve guessed it by looking at her. How she anchored her feet on each rung, using the rope and her arms to hoist herself up the wall.
It didn’t take Mallory three minutes to make it to the top. Holding onto the rope with one hand and the uppermost edge of the wall with the other, she hesitated, then gave Benno the cue to belay her to the ground.
“You were unbelievable. I thought you couldn’t do it,” Ava said when Mallory landed, both her feet firmly planted in dirt.
“I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get out of here. You should too,” she said under her breath.
Justice came over and unclipped her harness, his hands lingering on the clasp near her crotch. “Turns out you’re real good at this junior counselor thing. Don’t screw it up,” he told Mallory.
She didn’t look away. Ava did. But not before she saw Mallory flinch as he pulled the harness off her, tossing it to another kid. “Move this along. I want everyone to do it at least once. Then we’ll hightail it over to the shed to collect our gear. We’re heading out early.”
Ava felt her shoulders drop; her whole body slumped like someone elbowed her in the gut. The overnight. Leaving before dinner?
“Sedgwick. Over here.” Justice backed up away from the climbing wall, moving out of earshot from the group. Crooking his finger, he told Ava to follow. “You probably want to know about seeing Daddy. It’s not going to happen. Tomorrow after we get back from the overnight, you’ll go down to the lodge and have a session with him and Honor.”
“Perm to ask?” Ava could barely get the words out.
“What?”
“Do you know if he’s upset about not being able to see me till then? I mean, if he gets mad he might want to take me out early or something.”
Justice got a sicko look on his face. “Don’t you worry, Red. Pax has the group in the palm of his hand.” He flicked the end of her braid, the tip of it hitting Ava on the cheek. His hand came up, and he pulled her close to his face by her chin. “By the time you see Daddy tomorrow, you’ll be signed up for at least another month. If Pax is in good form, might even be two.”
THIRTEEN
Justice slept on the opposite side of the fire pit, the trash bag of boots tied to his wrist. On this overnight, Ava had been able to make fire, so she got to keep her sleeping bag. Trying not to be obvious, she waited till he claimed his position, and then unrolled her bag as close to the pit and as far from him as she could. That was four hours ago.
The snap, crackle, pop the flames made was quieter now, almost nonexistent. Even though the fire still cast a glow and Ava was wrapped in down, she was colder than the last time she’d slept on dirt. Her teeth chattered and she’d lost all feeling in her toes.
Turning on her side toward Mallory, Ava scrunched her eyes, trying to focus on her friend’s face. She was wide awake, her eyes darting back and forth. Mallory’s fingers curled over the top of her sleeping bag, gripping it near her mouth. As lightly as Ava could, so she wouldn’t scare her, she reached one hand out of her bag and tap
ped Mallory’s shoulder.
“Move closer. It’ll be warmer,” Ava said in the softer-than-whisper way her music teacher called sotto voce.
Mallory nodded, and both girls inched over, meeting in the middle when their shoulders touched.
“Are you okay? You look petrified,” Ava said.
“The dark’s the worst. Makes you appreciate leaving the lights on in the bunk room.”
“You’re different since you came back from the parent session. More nervous.”
Mallory wiped one eye with the back of her hand. It was the first time Ava had seen her cry since she’d been at Mount Hope. Fearless Mallory had climbed the dreaded wall in ropes class, and now she acted like they’d just spent the night telling ghost stories around the campfire.
“I did something stupid,” Mallory said.
“Tell me about it—I figured out it was you who told Honor I faked a blackout in the kitchen.”
“Not that. Way worse.”
“Arthur doesn’t blame you for sending him to OP. He said so at lunch.”
Mallory didn’t say anything, but Ava could see her staring across the pit to where Justice lay.
“What happened? Did he do something to you?”
“Shhh. He’s evil. Don’t go anywhere alone with him, Ava.” Mallory moved back to her spot on the dirt. “Whatever it takes, stay out of OP.”
Ava wanted to ask what he’d done to her, and to find out more about Observation Placement, but the crinkle of plastic—Justice rolling onto a garbage bag filled with their boots—stopped her heart beating. She went stone-still.
Watching steely night become morning, Ava cried over the biggest regret of her life: not telling her dad about the day her mind started cracking into pieces. Everything was fine until right before Christmas. Ava woke one morning and realized it was Poppy’s birthday. That’s when bits and pieces of things started coming back to her. Slowly at first. A palm tree here, some white sand there. Poppy swimming. Her mother.
If only Ava hadn’t fought it. All she’d had to do was ask her dad to fill in the gaps and breaks, to shine light on the dark places of her memory. If she had, would he still have sent her here?
Finally it was morning and a cloud the shape of a G clef materialized as Ava lay in her sleeping bag looking up. When they were little, she and Poppy would argue over which crayon was better for drawing Mom’s eyes. To Ava, they were robin’s egg. Her sister swore they were the color of midnight. Mom settled it. Poppy, as always, was the winner.
First out of his sleeping bag, Benno stoked the embers and added branches to the pit. Mallory’s job was to sort the boots and return them to their rightful owners. Justice pulled their workbooks from his backpack, one by one flinging them at their feet as they tied their laces.
Damn. She was meeting with Honor and her dad for a session this morning, and Ava still hadn’t found a way to get rid of her pack of lies, to lose her workbook.
“Don’t anybody mess with me this morning,” Justice said, yanking the hood of Fringe’s sweatshirt so tight he gagged. “Screw up today and you’ll be sorry. Got it, Seed? Real sorry.”
With the other counselors down at the parent session and the whole large group to himself, Justice acted tougher on this overnight. Yelling at everyone—not just Fringe—and giving them less to eat at dinner. He even collected their boots before dusk.
“Get into your groups and write for ten minutes. Benno will have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”
Ava watched Benno unload food supplies from another backpack. He was counting out cans when Fringe tried to help him by putting a skillet on the grate over the flame. Benno flicked his finger in Fringe’s ear, then pushed him away from his chore. It was like the more Justice treated Benno like a real counselor, the more he acted like one.
Mallory gave him a mean look as she took Fringe by the arm, leading him toward an area overlooking the vista with a collection of rocks to lean on. Cheez and Ava followed them, neither of them belt-looped. They posed no risk, because in that direction, there wasn’t anywhere to run. With all three of them in front of her, Ava glanced back to be sure Justice wasn’t watching. She stepped on one of her bootlaces, pulling it free, making sure to leave a long tail.
“Okay, so, this morning’s assignment is to write about a person you want to say you’re sorry to. And why.”
Mallory looked at Ava and mouthed the words, I’m going to write about you.
“Stop telling me what to do!” Fringe shouted like he was trying to get Benno’s attention back at the pit. “Stop. Yelling. At me.”
“Arthur! Look at me,” Mallory said, lowering her voice, trying not to draw attention to their group. Cheez scootched away. Ignoring them all, Ava opened her workbook. It didn’t matter what she wrote this time. No one would ever see it.
I remember your eyes
Were bluer than robin’s eggs
My poetry was lousy you said
“When was the last time you saw your aunt?” Mallory asked Fringe.
Ava could see she had a real knack for dealing with him. He began rocking, gently at first, like it soothed him to let his back come in contact with a rock.
“Aunt Nan. She can fly.”
Okay, it was official, the kid was crazy. Mallory leaned forward and opened his workbook, flipping past page after page of intricate drawings, tapping a blank space toward the back.
“Write about her. Come on.”
“Cessna. Skylane. Nan can fly.” Fringe kept repeating Nan can fly while he drew in his workbook. For ten minutes, Ava kept writing classic Joan Baez lyrics in hers.
“Chow time.” Justice’s booming voice was a gunshot at the starting line.
It was now or never.
As everyone stood, so did Ava. Placing her boot on the loose lace, she intentionally stumbled. When her knee hit the ground, she released it. The workbook arced out over the ravine. The pages fluttered, reminding her of the baby bird she and Poppy saw one morning in Maine. Crouched under a pine tree, they were sneaking a look inside Mom’s poetry journal when they saw the little thing. Like that helpless sparrow flapping its wings, Ava’s workbook tried to stay airborne. She watched it fall, landing underneath a balsam like a Christmas present.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Mallory asked, slapping her thighs.
“It was an accident,” Ava said, rubbing her knee, pretending it hurt.
“It’s gone.” Fringe peered over the edge. “Ava’s in trouble.”
Cheez put both hands out in front of her as she backed away. Not at all conflicted about which direction she was willing to go, she chose not to get involved.
“You idiot. Your dad already saw the workbook.” Mallory pulled Fringe back from the ledge. “Now you’re never getting out.”
Justice stormed over to see what was keeping them. “I said I wasn’t up for any bull this morning. What are you Seeds fighting about?”
All four of them stood there without saying anything.
“Mallory, you’re back two levels for not being in control of your group. The rest of you, own up, or you’ll have the pleasure of my company tonight. I’m itching to send the lot of you to OP. We could have a goddamn party.”
Mallory, the tattletale, started in. “Ava’s —”
“He threw my workbook down there,” Ava said, interrupting her, pointing at Fringe, her hand shaking. “I was minding my own business working on my assignment and he went ballistic.”
Fringe tipped his head and looked at his hands, turning them palm up as if without his knowledge they’d done what Ava had said.
Justice gripped him by the throat, nearly lifting him off the ground. “What’d I tell you, huh? I knew before Nanny-cakes got here that you wouldn’t make it down the mountain to see her.”
“I’d like to make amends, sir,” Mallory said. “I can go get it.”
“It’s too far.” Ava spoke without asking permission.
There Mallory went again, looking out for number on
e. She knew right then that they’d never had an alliance. All the times the girl had been nice to Ava, she was just reeling her in, setting her up.
“Quiet!” Justice pointed at Ava, his fat finger so close to her eyes, he could really hurt her with it if he wanted to. “Or you won’t be going down to see Daddy either.” He turned to Mallory. “Go ahead, get a rope from Benno. Make it quick. Then we’re outta here. This overnight is officially over.”
Ava hadn’t meant to make a mess of things. Fringe was heading back to what he called the devil’s hole, and this time it was her fault. Worse, he wasn’t going to see his aunt. Now Mallory was going to retrieve the workbook Ava was too weak to throw far enough, the one her dad had already read. When Mallory got back up to the Ledges, after collecting the evidence of who everyone thought Ava was, she knew Mallory would lie and lie, telling Justice what Ava had done. She’d end up in OP right next to Fringe, wearing God knows what color shirt or—if she could believe anything Mallory said—nothing at all.
Justice looked down at Ava’s boots. “Better tie that, Seed. You wouldn’t want to trip now, would you?”
Between willing herself not to puke and trying to figure a way to get out of landing in OP, all Ava could do was stand by watching Mallory secure the rope to her waist with the help of Benno’s expert hands.
Mallory rappelled toward the cluster of firs to get the workbook. Benno and Justice held the rope. Fringe sat down, cross-legged in the dirt, still looking at his hands.
Justice called out to Cheez. “If you wanna go straight to junior counselor, get the rest of those clowns packed up and put the pit out.”
Cheez didn’t wait for more direction. With the promise of a new job, off she went. For a second, Ava envied her moving up so easily to the level she herself had been striving for. Fringe stood, confused by all the commotion. Mallory’s feet had barely hit the valley floor when she started to remove the knotted rope from around her waist.
“Leave it on,” Justice shouted down at her. “You can reach the damn workbook without coming untied.” He tugged at the line, but Mallory had been too quick for him. Without resistance, Justice lost his footing and fell backward. “Bitch. Get back up here. Now!”
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