Granted, it was printed across the chest of my purple orchestra-camp tee, but, Calvin hadn't noticed that.
"I thought you were lying,” Calvin told me, looking stupefied.
I handed Willie a five for my Slurpee and pocketed the change. "As satisfying as this conversation has been,” I told Calvin, "I should probably go do something more productive. Like key that Bimmer of yours. It's too pretty."
"Just like me?" He waggled his brows hopefully.
I filled my cheeks with Slurpee, miming that I intended to spit it at him. He jumped clear and, to my satisfaction, erased his cocky grin at long last.
"See you tonight at Idlewilde,” Calvin called after me as I pushed out of the store.
By way of answer, I gave him a thumbs-up.
My middle finger would have been too obvious.
As I passed Calvin's BMW in the parking lot, I noticed the doors were unlocked. I glanced back to make sure he wasn't watching, then made a split-second decision. Climbing through the passenger door, I knocked his rearview mirror out of alignment, dribbled Slurpee on the floor mats, and stole his vintage CD collection from the glove box. It was a petty thing to do, but it made me feel a smidge better.
I'd give the CDs back tonight-after I'd scratched a few of his favorites.
CHAPTER TWO
A few hours later, Korbie and I were on the road. Calvin had taken off before us, and I had Korbie to blame. When I'd rung her doorbell, she had been packing yet another bag, languidly pulling shirts from her closet and handpicking lipsticks from her cosmetics case. I'd sat on her bed, trying to speed things up by stuffing everything into the bag.
I'd really hoped to beat Calvin to Idlewilde. Now he'd get first dibs on a bedroom, and his stuff would be spread around the cabin by the time we arrived. Knowing him, he'd lock up behind himself and force us to knock, like guests. Which was infuriating, since this was our trip, not his.
Korbie and I had the top down, to enjoy the warmth of the valley before the cold mountain air hit. We had the music cranked. Korbie had made a mixtape for the trip, and we were listening to that song from the-seventies? eighties?-that went, "Get outta my dreams, get into my car." Calvin's smug face was still floating around in the back of my mind, and it was bothering me. I firmly believed in the adage "Fake it till you make it,” so I pasted on a smile and giggled as Korbie tried to hit the high notes.
After a quick stop for more Red Bull, we left behind the horse pastures and green farmlands, with tidy rows of corn seedlings whizzing by in a blur, and climbed to higher elevation. The road narrowed, lodgepole pines and quaking aspens crowding up against the shoulders. The air rushing through my hair felt cool and clean. White and blue wildflowers burst from the ground, and the world smelled sharp and earthy. I bumped my sunglasses higher on my nose and grinned. My first trip without my dad or my big brother, Ian. No way was I going to let Calvin spoil it. I wasn't going to let him ruin my mood on the drive, and I wasn't going to let him ruin my week in the mountains. Screw him. Screw him, and have fun. It seemed like a good mantra for the week.
The sky was such a dazzling blue it hurt my eyes, the sun glinting off the windshield as we came around a bend. I blinked to sharpen my vision, and then I saw them. The white glacial horns of the Teton Range jutting up in the distance. Sharp, vertical peaks soared into the sky like snow-tipped pyramids. The view was mesmerizing and overwhelming-the sheer vastness of trees, slopes, and sky.
Korbie leaned out the window with her iPhone to take the best shot. "I had a dream last night about that girl who was killed by drifters in the mountains last summer,” she said.
"The white-water rafting guide?" Macie O'Keeffe. I remembered her name from the news. She was really smart and had a full ride to Georgetown. She disappeared sometime around Labor Day.
"Aren't you freaked out something like that could happen to us?"
"No,” I said sensibly. "She went missing really far from where we'll be. And there was no proof that drifters killed her. That's just what everyone assumes. Maybe she got lost. Anyway, it's too early for drifters to be camping by the river. plus, we'll be up in the mountains, where the drifters don't go."
"Yeah, but it's kind of creepy."
"It happened last summer. And it was only one girl."
"Yeah? What about Lauren Huntsman, the socialite who was on every news channel last year?" Korbie argued.
"Korbie. Stop it. Seriously. Do you know how many thousands of people come to the mountains and make it home safely?" "Lauren disappeared very close to where we'll be,” Korbie insisted.
"She disappeared from Jackson Hole, miles from where we'll be. And she was drunk. They think she waded into a lake and drowned."
"On the news they said people saw her leave a bar with a cowboy in a black Stetson."
"One person saw that. And they never found the cowboy. He probably doesn't exist. If we were in any danger, my dad wouldn't have let me come."
"I guess,” Korbie said, sounding unconvinced. Thankfully, a few minutes later she seemed to have shed her apprehension. "T minus two hours and we'll be roasting marshmallows at Idlewilde!" she cheered at the blue dome of sky.
The Versteegs had owned Idlewilde as long as I could remember. It was more of a lodge than a cabin in the woods. Three stone chimneys jutted from a gabled rooftop. Idlewilde had six bedrooms-seven if you counted the sofa bed in the basement next to the foosball and pool tables-a wraparound deck, a stunning bank of south-facing windows, and nooks and crannies galore. While the Versteegs occasionally spent Christmas at Idlewilde-Mr. Versteeg had earned his pilot's license and bought a single-engine helicopter to get up the mountain, since most roads were snow-packed and closed until springtime-they used it almost exclusively as a summer home, and had installed an apron of lawn with a hot tub, badminton court, and fire pit nestled between lounge chairs.
Two Christmases ago, I'd spent my vacation at Idlewilde with Korbie's family, but not this past Christmas. Calvin had gone to the home of one of his college roommates for the holiday, and Korbie and her parents had gone skiing in Colorado, leaving Idlewilde vacant. I'd never visited Idlewilde without Mr. and Mrs. Versteeg. I couldn't picture it without Mr. Versteeg's watchful eye following us like a shadow.
This time, it was just us kids. No adults and no rules. A year ago, being alone with Calvin for a week would have seemed forbidden and dangerous, a secret fantasy come true. Now I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what I was supposed to say to him when we bumped into each other in the hallway. I wondered if he was dreading this as much as I was. At least our first awkward run-in was out of the way.