“You don’t?”
He shrugs, draping his arm out the open window. “I just wanted to get out of town for a while. It can get kind of . . . claustrophobic.”
“Right, I can imagine,” I agree. “Living in such a small town must be something else.”
“I like it,” he answers quickly, glancing over. “Don’t get me wrong — I’m looking forward to college. I’m applying to UBC in Vancouver, and McGill out in Montreal — places with more than a thousand people. But for now, it’s kind of nice. I know everyone; we’ve all grown up together . . .” He gives an awkward smile. “Must sound dumb to you.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, you’re from a big city.”
“Is that what you think: that I’m some fancy city chick?” I laugh. “I’ve spent my whole life in the suburbs. I mean, sure, I can get into the city for trips and stuff, and my development is a lot bigger than Stillwater, but it’s nothing great. Tracts and tracts of identical houses as far as you can see.”
“Grass is greener, eh?”
I smile. “Except in this case, the grass really is greener here. And the trees, and rivers —”
“Pull in here to park.” Fiona interrupts imperiously. I grit my teeth but follow her instructions, circling the lot and managing a tight display of parking that has Ethan applauding by the time I’m done.
“Thank you, thank you very much.” I bow.
“Whatever.” Fiona climbs out, slamming the door. “Don’t even think about calling me before six.” She takes off in the general direction of the mall, almost getting hit by a reversing van; the driver sounds the horn and leans out of his window, yelling at her. She ignores him.
“Wait, Fiona!” I scramble out of the car. “Where are you going? It’s not even noon. Where should we meet?”
Turning back, she shrugs. “You think I’m spending another minute with you two? Call me tonight!” And with that, she all but jogs away.
“I guess it’s just us then.” Ethan joins me, hands bunched in his front pockets and a small nylon messenger bag slung across his body. He looks around, nonchalant at the idea of spending the afternoon together. “What’s the plan?”
I regroup, pulling out my scribbled list. It’s probably a good thing I won’t have Fiona hanging around, making fun of my new task. “Well, there is something you can help me with. . . .”
“You want what?” Ethan says dubiously. Thirty minutes later, we’ve consumed half our weight in French fries in the yellow Formica food court. Now it’s time for work.
“Hiking boots and a backpack,” I confirm. “Sturdy shorts, waterproof socks — you get the idea.”
We’re standing in the middle of a vast outdoor activity store, surrounded on all sides by racks and rails full of functional, expensive clothing. By the looks of the array of labels on display, the collected scientific knowledge of the West has been directed at keeping hikers that little bit drier.
“Sure you don’t just want to go to the Gap?” he asks, still faintly disbelieving.
“I need this stuff. My summer gear is more suited to, well, sunbathing,” I admit, distracted by the video screen on the far wall — a pair of climbers dangling from a vertical rock face with their bare hands. I feel a lurch of vertigo just looking at them, so I quickly turn back to Ethan. “I want to be able to join in with all the activities you guys do,” I explain. “I mean, can you see me out hiking in these?” I point down at my jeans for illustration. They’re fitted, with frayed edges that are crying out to get caught on a stray tree root and send me tumbling over a cliff or something.
“OK, then we should probably go with the basics.” Ethan seems to be warming to the task. He puts his hands on his hips and looks around like he’s an explorer, set to conquer foreign lands. Which is exactly what I need. “Let’s start at the feet and work our way up.”
14
“Jenna! Phone!”
I drag my head up from my pillow and squint at my cell in disbelief. Seven a.m. People are alive at this hour? Alive, and calling me?
“Jenna!”
“Coming!” I manage to yell back. Fiona makes a groaning noise and pulls her covers up over her head. For once, I know how she feels. We stayed late in Kamloops for a movie and Chinese food, and by the time we got back, I was sleeping like a dead person in the backseat. If it hadn’t been for Ethan gently shaking me awake, I’m guessing Fiona would have left me curled up out there all night.
I stumble out of her bedroom, skidding downstairs and only narrowly missing that gaping pit of doom in the hallway.
“Morning, sweetie.” Susie hands me the phone with a sparkle in her eye.
“Hmmmhm,” I yawn, eyes still half-shut. I don’t even wait for a word before putting the phone to my ear. “Mom, there’s something called a time difference, you remember that, right?”
“Uh, hi, Jenna.”
It’s not my mom. Unless she’s had a sex change.
“Oh, hey, sorry.” I’m paying attention now. “Who is this?”
“It’s Ethan.” He sounds suspiciously awake. “Is this a bad time, because I could call back later and —”
“No, no, it’s fine!” Susie is still beaming at me, so I shoo her away and wander through to the kitchen. But I have to admit, I’m curious. “What’s up?”
“Well, me and the guys were just going to head out riding, shooting some stuff for the next video. You want to come along?”
“A ride, like, horseback?”
He laughs. “No, mountain bikes. There are some cool trails up in the hills, and we’ve got some old spares lying around you could use. But don’t worry if you can’t make it — I just thought . . .”
“No! I mean, yes, I’d love to come!” I’m in shock: an actual invitation to join in? My tiredness gives way to excitement. “When did you want to meet?”
There’s a pause. “Uh, we’re actually leaving in ten minutes.”
What?
“I’m sorry it’s so last-minute,” he continues. “I should have mentioned something yesterday, but I didn’t even think of it.”
“That’s OK,” I answer faintly, trying to calculate how much time I’ll need to shower, dress, and, you know, eat. “I can do that, no problem.”