Chapter 27 Thorn
I need to call Danica. The sooner, the better—I should have called already, honestly—but my trust is so frayed right now that I’m struggling to step away from the group, even for a few minutes.
The other thing holding me back: I’m still working up the nerve.
How do I explain what just happened without also confessing that I was off with Sadie when all the chaos went down? It scares me to think of how easily I lost track of time today. I let my guard down, forgot myself and everyone else for just long enough that it turned into a big problem.
Not to mention I’m down a coleader.
Deep down, I think there’s a part of me that thinks if I just do a good enough job on my own—get us through the next few days without any more injuries or incidents—Danica will never have to know the extent of what went down until we’re all back in one piece.
But I’m not sure my conscience could live with that.
I find a quiet spot at the far end of Alexandria Flat, the only place around here where I can get some privacy while still keeping an eye on camp.
“Come on, Danica,” I mutter under my breath as it rings. “Pick up.”
“Thorn?” she says, her voice crackling; one of us has a sketchy connection. “Everything okay?”
It’s not, and the fact that I’m calling at all from out here means she already knows it.
“Things took a bit of a turn today,” I tell her.
I give her the bullet-point version: Joshua and Zoe’s epic breakup, Matteo’s bombshell of a make-out session, Joshua going rogue despite me trying my damndest to talk him out of it—with emphasis on how my hands were tied when Joshua made it crystal clear he had no intention of staying at camp or being picked up early—and that the best we could do was for Matteo to go with him so he wouldn’t be out on the trails alone.
I leave out the part about Matteo ditching everyone at the climbing site—since that would implicate me, too—and, for now, focus mostly on the relational drama of it all.
When I finish, it’s so silent on the other end I have to double-check that my phone still has a connection. Danica doesn’t get angry often…she’s one of the most levelheaded, even-keeled people I’ve ever met. So when a full minute passes without her saying a word, I know it’s bad.
“Okay, so, there’s not a lot I can do from here at this point,” she starts.
“We don’t have anyone else I could send to fill in for Matteo—and I’m actually relieved to hear Joshua declined a pickup, because I would’ve had a hard time getting out there this evening. Charlotte’s down with a stomach bug.”
Charlotte is Danica’s six-year-old daughter.
“Sorry to hear that,” I offer. “Hope she feels better soon.”
“Thanks,” she says. “It’s been a day. As far as the trek goes, it sounds like you did the best you could in light of the circumstances. Tell me their planned route so I can have a record in case of emergency?”
I run through the shortcuts I suggested to Matteo—Alexandria Flat up to Mackenzie Lake via Cloverleaf Creek, then a different trail back down to Sparrow Valley.
I hear her take notes, the scratch of pencil on paper loud in my ear. “Good instincts,” she remarks. “Those are efficient shortcuts without holding the group up for two extra days.”
“You’re okay with us going on to Sparrow Valley, then?” I ask. “Even though I don’t have a coleader?”
I wondered, after Matteo and Joshua were already gone, if I should have told them to just meet us back here.
“It’s obviously not ideal,” she says after a long moment, “but given the unusual circumstances, I’m fine with you leading solo until they meet up with you again. Just use your best judgment to get everyone back in one piece, okay?”
She means it as a weight off, I’m sure—but all I feel is pressure.
“Did I lose you?” she says a moment later, when I still haven’t replied.
“I’m here,” I finally say. “Thanks, Dani.”
“How’s morale?” she asks.
“Exhausted, for the most part.”
“And how have things been with Matteo otherwise?”
I fixate on a distant hawk as it swoops low over the horizon, resisting the urge to divulge every single detail—specifically, Matteo’s accusations about how I’ve been distracted out here.
I don’t want to give Danica any reason to worry or doubt my ability to take care of the group, especially when she’s already told me there’s nothing she can do at the moment to help.
“Pretty uncomfortable,” I admit. “Blair broke up with him over text a few days ago, so things have been a little rough since then.”
“What a mess,” Danica says. “I’m so sorry, Thorn.” She sighs. “And you said he was off with…Zoe?”
“Zoe, yeah.”
There’s another long pause, but this time I can tell we’re still connected.
“Well,” she says, “I hate to make things even more uncomfortable, but whenever the guys get back, please remind Matteo what a terrible idea it is to get involved with the trekkers—even the ones who aren’t there with their ex-fiancés. We’ve got rules about that stuff for a reason.”
That conversation will go over well. This is not good, not good at all.
“Between you and me, Thorn, can I just say what a relief it is to have someone like you in a situation like this?” Danica continues.
“I’d be nervous if it were anyone else leading solo, but I’d trust you with just about anything—and you’re the one guide I’ve never had to worry about when it comes to catching feelings. ”
I know she means all of this as a compliment, but it feels more like a punch to the gut: that I’ve let this job define my life to such an extent that she can’t even fathom me falling for someone out here.
There’s no way Matteo will accept the sort of feedback she’s asking me to give—he’ll never take me seriously, not with how close I’ve gotten with Sadie, even if I’m somehow able to put an end to those feelings and cut things off for good.
But I definitely can’t tell Danica the depths of my concerns now.
My only way forward is to do everything I can to be the strong, focused leader she believes I am—the one I’ve always been, and am still capable of being.
“You’ve got this, Thorn,” she says, her voice cutting in and out. “It’s only two days on your own—I’m not worried. Just trust your gut and it’ll all be fine.”
This time, the call really does drop.
I’m so screwed.