by Jack Chaucer
"I'm glad you came, Adam," Nicole said after swallowing a bite of food. "Who knows? Maybe you'll blossom into a real mountain climber some day and it all began today at Rainbow Lake."
Adam nodded and smiled while wolfing down his wrap and reaching into his bag of chips.
"I climbed Mount Washington with my Mom for the first time when I turned 14 — about three years after my parents divorced," Nicole said. "I've been hooked ever since. There are a lot of great trails in the White Mountains and the views are awesome."
"Now we're talking about doing the whole Appalachian Trail during one of our college summers," Candace chimed in, ripping open her bag of chips.
"That's that really long trail, right?" Adam asked, happy to join a three-way conversation and get the opportunity to look at Candace more frequently. He found it hard not to stare at the letters on her shirt as she talked or listened.
"Yeah, it goes from Maine to Georgia," Candace replied.
"Or, if we can scrape together enough money, I'd really like to do the PCT," Nicole said.
"What's that?" Adam asked.
"The Pacific Crest Trail, which goes from like southern California all the way up the West Coast," she said excitedly.
"Nikki got that big idea from her hiking hero, Cheryl Strayed," Candace added with a smirk.
"Do you like to read, Adam?" Nicole asked.
"Not really," he said, smiling and squinting.
"OK, I'm not talking about boring books for school," Nicole said with a grin. "Do you like to read for fun — like books about hunting, for example?"
"Yeah, I guess," he lied.
"Well, anyway, I highly recommend Cheryl's book. It's called 'Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail.'"
"What's so great about it?"
"Well, it's a true story, a memoir by this woman named Cheryl — she was in her 20s at the time — and she hiked most of the PCT by herself with, like, zero hiking experience," Nicole explained.
"She was pretty dumb then," Adam said.
"Naive and lost might be the better description," Candace countered, drawing a longer stare from Adam. "She was basically a messed-up chick who screwed a lot of guys and shot herself up with heroin before she ..."
Adam's eyes bugged out with interest at that nugget of information, but Nicole cut her off.
"Don't forget why she did that, Candace," she said. "She had just watched her mother die of cancer, and the rest of her family was a bunch of losers who just took off on her and left her to deal with the whole sad situation."
"Still, that's a pretty extreme reaction," Candace said before sipping some water.
"I'm sure it's not easy to watch your mom die," Nicole said, biting her tongue at the end of that sentence as she remembered what Brody told her — that Adam's mother died of a drug overdose when he was very young.
Adam looked out at the lake, but outwardly didn't seem too troubled by what she had said.
"Anyway, the point is Cheryl was going down a terrible path until she went on this hike. She found a way to survive, met some cool people along the way and basically turned her whole life around in one summer," Nicole said, locking eyes with Adam and hoping he could grasp her message as it related to him. "It's a very inspirational story, especially for young people like us, who sometimes feel lost or depressed and have no clue what the future holds."
Nicole's words hung in the air for an uncomfortable moment as Adam finished off his lunch and Candace checked her iPhone.
"Maybe I should read it then," Adam finally said, his tone suddenly serious to Nicole's pleasant surprise. She nodded and gave him a squinty little grin.
Another short period of silence was interrupted by the loud, strange sound of a man's voice yelling "Fee-fee, fee-fo ... Fee-fee, fee-fo" from the trail behind them. Then Nicole, Adam and Candace all smiled as an enthusiastic young golden retriever bounded toward them, sniffing their blanket and licking their faces, hands and shirts for traces of lunch, most of which had been consumed.
"Hey there doggy," Adam said, beaming like Nicole had never seen him before.
Candace laughed when the dog tried to jump on Nicole and kiss her mouth.
"Aaaah," Nicole gasped, turning her cheek as she petted the fluffy dog with both hands and ruffled its long, floppy ears.
Soon the dog's owner appeared next to their blanket on the sand with a broad smile on his face.
"Hello, I'm Vlad and you've already met Fifi," said the red-capped man with the Russian accent, salt-and-pepper hair and beard, and friendly blue eyes. He wore a tie and vest under a dark blue windbreaker, blue slacks and brown boots — probably the best-dressed hiker Nicole had ever met on the trails.
"Hi Vlad, I'm Nicole and this is Adam and Candace," she said, looking up at him as Fifi drifted over to lick Adam's hands and face. He snorted and pushed the dog around playfully.
"Fifi is a good girl, just a big baby really," Vlad said. "She's only 11 months old."
"Wow, she's pretty big for 11 months," Adam observed.
"Yeah, Fifi likes to eat a lot," the man said with a hearty, infectious laugh that made all three teens smile.
"Where are you from?" Candace asked.
"I was born in Russia, but I live on Cape Cod now," he said. "I love the ocean. It's very beautiful. So is New Hampshire. I love the mountains. I love to visit here."
"I know. We're lucky to live around here," Nicole said, visibly gushing over the stranger's positive energy.
"You are very lucky, Adam," Vlad said, vigorously pointing at him with the hand that held Fifi's leash. His eyes and grin were full of mischief.
"Why?" the boy asked.
"Why?" Vlad repeated, waving his arm over Nicole and Candace below him. "You get to relax with two beautiful young women in a beautiful place such as this on such a beautiful day."
The Russian laughed while Adam's sheepish look morphed into a shy grin. His cheeks flushed, but he nodded his head. "I guess you're right. Sometimes I don't notice the most obvious things."
They all chuckled at that.
Nicole thought about all the interesting people Cheryl Strayed had met on her long trek through the wilderness, including some locals who aided hikers but didn't actually hike the PCT themselves. Those people were dubbed "trail angels" by the grateful hikers. Vlad seemed cut out of that same cloth, and Nicole's heart leapt as she watched Adam's facial expressions in the unexpected company of the affable Russian and his lovable golden puppy. It gave her a real glimmer of hope that she was on the right path — the one marked by blue rectangles; the one where nobody got shot.
"It's so nice to meet you and Fifi, Vlad," Nicole heard herself say. "That's one of the great things about hiking — all the amazing people you randomly bump into on the trails that you otherwise never would've met."
Vlad nodded, gave her a huge smile and then watched happily as Fifi suddenly rambled toward the edge of the lake to lap up a long drink of water. Three other sets of eyes followed, captivated by the puppy's youthful spirit and thirst for life.
"Oh I can't take any credit," Vlad said, pointing toward his dog. "I just let Fifi go and she found you first — way, way before me. I'm quite slow."
They all chuckled.
"I think I'm taking her for a walk, but really, she's taking me," the Russian added with a laugh.
Nicole caught Adam gazing at her and they shared a smile.
CHAPTER 9: “WE'RE GOING TO BE FRIENDS”
"Adam's pretty weird, but I'm not sure he would start shooting people. Then again, I'll probably keep hiding in the bathroom at 12:14 for a while just in case. I'm too young to die and I definitely don't trust psycho Thomas whatever-his-name-is," Candace rambled on into Nicole's ear as she stashed her lunch bag and a paperback book into her locker. Scores of students streamed past them in the long corridor. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked, pointing to the book.
"Yeah, I was going to let Adam borrow it if he wants," Nicole said of "Wild."
"He doesn't
seem like an avid reader."
"You never know," Nicole said, closing her locker and spinning the lock. "I thought it went pretty well yesterday. Thanks for backing me up, C.C., and holding your tongue at the key moments. ... I guess your shirt did the talking for you," she added with a wink and a grin.
"Pretty rad, eh? Adam definitely couldn't handle hanging out with the two of us at the same time — he was like a shy pathetic freshman at first," Candace said as they began strolling down the busy hall.
"I'm just glad it turned into a fairly positive experience — something to build on maybe. I didn't want a full-blown intervention in the woods," Nicole said.
"That's what I expected, but I was pleasantly surprised," Candace said, clutching her books close to her chest. "I think the Russian guy and his dog really saved the day."
Nicole chuckled. "A little trail magic right there. I think the food helped Adam's morale, too."
"OK Strayed, I'll see you later."
"I have to meet with Ms. Alvarez now," Nicole said.
"Why? ... Oh yeah, Friday's shoving incident," Candace answered her own question. "Too bad I missed that."
"See what you miss when you're hiding in the bathroom," Nicole quipped.
"Oh well. Bye Nikki," Candace said, waving as she walked into a classroom on the right.
"Later," Nicole said, heading straight for the guidance counselor's office.
...
Ms. Alvarez cloaked her strong arms in a long-sleeved black shirt today, but her dark brown eyes didn't lack for intensity as she studied Nicole, who fidgeted with her fingernails as she sat in a stiff-backed chair in front of the counselor’s desk. She sensed an air of quiet defiance in the teen that both surprised and irritated her.
"Why would you encourage a boy like Adam to beat somebody up? That's just not like you, Nicole," she said, dark curls framing her tan face. "I have to tell you that incident on Friday really threw me for a loop. I needed the weekend to process it before I talked to you."
"Timmy was making fun of Caleb ..."
"Yes I know, I know that, but still ..."
"What do you mean when you say 'a boy like Adam?’" Nicole asked, cutting off the counselor in turn.
Ms. Alvarez sighed. "You know what I mean, Nicole."
"No, I don't, so you're going to have to tell me," she replied firmly.
Ms. Alvarez raised her eyebrows and thought for a moment.
"Nicole, I really don't prefer to talk about another student behind his back in this office, but I think you're smart enough to know that Adam Upton has some behavioral issues and the last thing he needs is a girl pushing his buttons to act out," she said sharply.
"I wasn't trying to push his buttons," Nicole insisted. "How was I sup- ..."
"But you did, so I've decided that you can join Adam in detention after school today," the counselor ruled curtly.
"What?"
"Look, I wasn't necessarily planning on giving you detention, but I really don't like your attitude right now. Your tone is very challenging and unremorseful. There is no place for fighting inside this school and I don't want to see you involved in any more incidents like this. Do you understand?"
Nicole rolled her eyes and tugged at her long strands of brown and blue.
"Do what you want, but all I'm trying to do is be friends with Adam and it isn't the easiest thing, you know," she said, suddenly looking up at the ceiling, hoping the counselor wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes. She had never been disciplined in school before at any level and it didn't sit well with her.
Ms. Alvarez could see the girl getting emotional and softened her tone.
"OK, Nicole, but you have to understand that I've never seen you two hang out in school before so I'm a little confused — and then the incident on Friday? I walk into the cafeteria and the lunch lady tells me what happened. Then you defend Adam and admit you played a role in it. What am I supposed to do? Just ignore that? Timmy could've been seriously hurt. Adam is a much bigger boy."
Nicole shrugged and forced back her tears. Her punishment had been handed out so she decided to change the subject. She suddenly wanted to test how much guidance Ms. Alvarez was capable of providing. Hopefully it was better than her ability to hear someone out.
"Can I ask you a question, Ms. Alvarez?"
"Yes, of course, Nicole."
"Do you feel safe coming to this school every day?" the teen asked gravely.
Ms. Alvarez appeared even more confused now, tilting her head to the right, raising only her left eyebrow and clasping her hands together on top of her well-organized desk.
"Yes I do, Nicole — what are you talking about?"
"I mean, do you ever think about Newtown or Columbine and wonder if something like that could happen here at Lakeview?" Nicole asked, looking the counselor right in the eyes.
"Of course I've thought about it — how can any of us not think about it when these shootings have happened again and again, but I don't worry or agonize about it," she replied. "Walking around in fear is no way to live. We all come here to learn and teach and guide, and that should be our focus."
Nicole nodded and looked down at her hands. She decided her fingernails needed a fresh coat of lavender polish as she waited for the counselor's inevitable follow-up question. Did she really want to go there with Ms. Alvarez?
"Why? Do you know about something? ... Because if you do, you should tell me right now, Nicole."
Nicole sighed. "I don't know anything, but I did have a dream a couple of weeks ago," she said.
Ms. Alvarez squinted at her. "A dream? Go on."
"Well, the dream warned me that something bad like that might happen at this school and time was running out to stop it," Nicole said.
Ms. Alvarez nodded thoughtfully and sat back in her padded black chair to ponder what the teen said.
"Dreams are not real, Nicole, but they are a good indication of what's on our subconscious mind — fears or whatever," she said. "I don't blame you for being afraid of that threat because we all have been inundated with these images of mass killings over the past decade or so, and many of them have taken place in school settings."
"Do you think the dead can talk to us? Warn us?" Nicole asked.
"No ... no, I don't believe that, but that's my personal belief. However, sometimes dreams can focus on things that we might overlook while we're awake. Did the dream warn you about a specific plot or a specific person who might be behind it?" Ms. Alvarez asked.
Nicole thought about her answer for a moment.
"Yes," she finally said, "but I don't want to say who."
Ms. Alvarez nodded silently, picturing the face of Adam Upton in her mind. For the first time in their conversation, the guidance counselor didn't seem confused at all.
...
Nicole skipped lunch. She needed a break from Adam after her draining talk with Ms. Alvarez. She knew she'd see him in detention anyway and decided to give him the book then. She spent her lunch period in the school library instead, using the computer to do Internet searches on bipolar disorder, Columbine, Newtown, Asperger's syndrome and Adam Lanza, the Newtown shooter. It troubled her that she was dealing with an Adam, too.
"Do they really have to have the same exact first name? Creepy," she whispered to herself.
Computer research only added to Nicole's anxiety, so she tried to focus on the progress she had made with Adam instead.
About a half hour later, she was staring out the window and thinking about Sunday's hike at Rainbow Lake when Mr. Richardson called her name in English class.
"What? I'm sorry," she said, realizing she was in a fog.
"Yes, Nicole, you were clearly somewhere far, far away," the teacher said with his usual easygoing style. "That's OK. Can you share with us the song you chose? And please tell us why this particular lyrical poem moved you."
"Sure," she said, straightening up in her seat, clearing her throat and focusing on the iPad screen on her desk. "I chose 'We're Going to
Be Friends' by the White Stripes. Most of you probably heard the song on the soundtrack for the movie 'Napoleon Dynamite,' which came out in like 2004."
"Oh I loved that movie," a boy shouted from across the room, drawing a round of laughter, followed by a few dissenters who called the film "stupid," "asinine" and "retarded."
Someone else yelled "vote for Pedro!" in reference to Napoleon's popular Hispanic sidekick in the movie. Yet another person bellowed, "Liger ... a cross between a lion and a tiger, bred for its skills in magic," one of Napoleon's infamous one-liners. That sparked another round of laughter and chaos in the classroom.
Mr. Richardson allowed his students to have some fun with their trip down cinema lane for a few moments, but then he regained control. "OK everyone, let's hear Nicole's take on the White Stripes' song," he said, hushing the room with the downward motion of his hands.
Nicole looked down at her iPad again and recited the first five lines of lyrics to the class:
Fall is here, hear the yell
Back to school, ring the bell
Brand new shoes, walking blues
Climb the fence, books and pens
I can tell that we are going to be friends
Nicole noticed Derek gazing at her intently from the desk to her right as she looked up to address the class from her left-aisle window seat. She gave him a quick smile and spoke clearly. "I've always loved the White Stripes and most people know their song, 'Seven Nation Army' ..."
A boy in the back left of the class interrupted her by humming the popular melody to that song — a catchy, militant progression often sung by fans at college basketball games and even soccer matches around the world. A few others joined in before Mr. Richardson, once again, had to tamp down the noise with his hands.
"Continue, Nicole," he said.
"Well, I chose 'We're Going to Be Friends' because it's an acoustic song with a great melody and the words take me back 10 years ago when I was 7. That's when going to school was so new and exciting and innocent. Back then it seemed like making friends was so much simpler, easier and fun," she explained, trying her best not to get emotional while she talked. "I'm especially moved by the lyric, 'We don't notice any time pass,' later in the song. It's just so true. We're so completely wrapped up in learning and beginning to discover this world that we can't possibly see the forest for the trees. Before we know it, 10 years have come and gone. Once again, fall is here, hear the yell, back to school, ring the bell — only now we're starting 12th grade instead of second. It's almost over for us, but the cycle continues.