11. Chapter 11
Iwhip Lisa’s car into the trailhead parking area and leap out. Checking my phone, I note that it’s 9:06 a.m. I’m only six minutes late.
As I reach the trailhead for Dream Lake Trail, I find Sam already waiting for me. He’s nonchalantly leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, his face hidden under a baseball cap. When he finally notices me, his mouth ticks up. At first, I think it’s almost genuine, like he’s happy to see me. But I know that can’t be right.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he teases.
I huff. I knew his jovial expression was too good to be true. “It’s been a rough morning.”
“How so?”
“My alarm didn’t go off, so I didn’t get the early start I wanted. Then, Lisa failed to tell me that her car was practically on E, and to top it off, I hit a bunch of construction traffic at the interstate junction. I’m sure you saw it, too.”
He nods, his smile growing in self-content. “I did, but I also checked the state website for possible congestion areas last night. I knew the construction would be bad, so I left early.” His chin lifts triumphantly. “Made it here with plenty of time to spare.”
I fight the sneer crawling across my face and bite out, “Well, sorry to have kept you waiting, your majesty.”
His shoulders bob with a chuckle like he finds my frustration amusing. “My time is important, you know. I’ll have to notate this lack of punctuality in my report.”
My whole face scrunches up as I scrutinize Sam, trying to read him. Is he seriously going to dock me points for being six minutes late? I wouldn’t put it past him, but that’s pretty damn low.
It’s best if I don’t think about it too hard. Easier said than done. “Let’s get this over with,” I say curtly and turn toward the trail, with Sam following.
“Hiking guide was less than friendly,” Sam says quietly, but not so quiet that I don’t hear him.
I turn my chin over my shoulder, giving him a fierce glare.
He puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m just trying to give the most honest report I can. It’s not my fault you’re grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy.” I focus back on the trail.
“Then what would you call your cloudy demeanor?”
“Determined to get this hike finished.”
“Have we even started?” he asks, as if he’s not walking the dirt path with me.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Yes, Sam. Did you not see the sign at the trailhead? Do you not notice your feet moving? That means you’re hiking.”
“Okay, but you didn’t give me any details about the hike. Didn’t tell me what to expect, or how long it would be. You haven’t exactly informed me on what we’re doing out here.”
I groan, letting my head fall back. As if struggling through my morning and dealing with Sam’s teasing wasn’t bad enough, now I have to listen to his valid points about how I’m sucking at this hike. I should have gone down my checklist after getting out of the car. He’s right, but I refuse to let him know.
“Fine. I can see you’re not going to make this easy.” I turn my chin over my shoulder slightly, but not enough that I have to look at him. “There’s a clearing up ahead. When we get there, I’ll go over everything.”
“Thank you. See? Was that so hard?”
I grit my teeth as I will my feet to keep moving. All I want to do is spin around and hightail it out of here. I want to leave Sam behind and forget this day has even begun.
But I can’t. My GPA depends on it. So, I keep going.
When we reach the clearing, I slide off my backpack and kneel next to it on the ground. Sam follows suit. I don’t want to look at him, but I do. And what do I see? Not the smug expression of the jerk I know him to be, but a sweet, attentive anticipation instead.
My whole body sags. “This is Dream Lake Trail. It’s only about two miles, one way.”
“So, you’re going easy on me. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I didn’t know who I was going to get as a partner, so I chose a trail that’s fairly easy to complete. It’s supposed to take a little over an hour to hike, but I’ve done it in less with my friends.”
“Overachiever.”
I want to be offended, but his wink disarms my anger immediately, and I can’t help but laugh. “Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t overachieve.”
“Okay, what else do I need to know?”
Feeling my anger ebb, I take a moment to study his clothes. He’s wearing good hiking boots and long pants. I can’t tell if he’s wearing a long-sleeve shirt or not, but the jacket he has on will be warm enough either way. Sunglasses hang from his jacket collar, but he already has on a hat, so those won’t be needed. It’s nice that he’s prepared, though.
I reach up, tapping the brim of his hat. “I see you at least read my email.”
“Oh, ha. Yeah.” He takes off the hat to run a hand through his hair. “Sorry I never responded.”
“It’s okay. What matters is you didn’t ghost me and?” A thought strikes me, and I jerk my head back. “Wait. Your email is ‘imagine a radioactive dragon?’”
With a groan, he rolls his eyes, and I swear I see his cheeks pinken. “Ugh, yes. That song was really popular, and I was twelve when I created that account, so sue me.”
“You’ve never thought about, I don’t know, making a new one?”
“Oh, I have, but I’m lazy. Everything is tied to that email, so it would be an undertaking to switch everything over.”
I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe one day I’ll change it.” He shrugs. “Okay, so we know we’re dressed properly. What’s next? Do we have everything we need for a two-hour hike? What happens when we’re done?”
With a nod, I stand and slip on my backpack. “I know I told you to pack a water bottle, but I’ve got plenty in case you run out. I also have sunscreen and bug spray reserves, two ponchos, even though it’s not supposed to rain, and I packed a light snack for us to have at the end of the trail. After that, we hike back, and that’s it.”
“Cool. Sounds like you have everything under control,” Sam says as he stands to shrug on his backpack.
My chest lightens. I’ll take the compliment. It’s the first genuinely nice thing he’s said to me today that wasn’t sarcastic or teasing. The frustration of this morning melts away, and I begin to think I’ll get to enjoy this hike after all.
Sam sighs. “Glad to know this won’t be eating up my whole Saturday.”
My content expression falls. I should have known he’d consider this an inconvenience. With a deflated sigh, I turn toward the trail and say, “Okay, let’s go.”
We walk along in silence as I try to forget he’s behind me. I focus on the gorgeous morning. The bright sunshine, the crisp mountain air, and the lovely aroma of the flora and fauna surrounding me. It’s all so beautiful. For a moment, I actually lose track of Sam.
Until he clears his throat. “So, are you going to tell me anything about this trail?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, what kinds of plants are here? Anything dangerous?”
I turn my chin over my shoulder and quirk an eyebrow. “Why? Are you planning to lick a tree or something?”
“Ha, no. But, like, is there poison ivy or anything?”
“It grows here, but it’s unlikely you’ll run into any. Just stay on the trail and you’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, though he sounds anything but trusting.
Almost thirty minutes into our hike, we pass a couple of fishermen on their way back from the lake. They greet us with cheerful good mornings and tell us the lake is in prime beauty today. We thank them and continue on.
“So, if there’s a lake with fish, does that mean there are bears, too?” He sounds downright scared.
A wicked idea pops into my mind. It might be mean if this were anyone besides Sam. “Black bears, yes. But, I’m not worried.”
“Really? Why not?”
Turning to face him, I walk backwards for a few steps. “Because I’m probably a faster runner than you.” With a smartass grin, I turn around and take off jogging.
“Hey, wait up!” he calls after me.
My brisk pace has him out of breath quickly, so when we round a bend and find a fallen tree trunk, I suggest a break.
“Thanks,” he huffs, plopping down onto the tree.
Smiling triumphantly, I take a seat too. “So much for going easy on you, huh?”
Sam doesn’t say anything as he sucks in air. Reaching for his water bottle, he groans.
Maybe I overestimated his endurance level. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel very good. Kinda nauseous. Actually, I’ve been feeling a little sick for the last few minutes.”
Uh oh. “Do you have a headache at all?”
“No, but I feel a little lightheaded. Why?”
“That’s altitude sickness.” I start digging through my backpack, pulling out an energy bar, an electrolyte drink packet, and a bottle of water. “Here,” I say, handing him the energy bar. “You need to eat some carbs, and hydrate.” I empty the electrolyte packet into the bottle of water and shake it.
“I don’t really feel like eating.” He tries to hand the snack bar back to me.
I push his hand toward him. “I know, but you need to or it’s only going to get worse.”
Reluctantly, he opens the package and takes a small bite.
I sigh. “We can sit here as long as you need. Take small bites, wash it down with a lot of water.”
“Thanks,” he says, appreciation dancing in his tone.
“You’re welcome.” A pang of guilt stabs me. “I’m sorry I didn’t even think about you not being acclimated to the altitude. I keep forgetting you only moved here recently.”
He shrugs. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have thought about it either. Obviously.” Chuckling, he takes another bite. “I mean, I didn’t have any issues at the Mud Down.”
The mention of the day we met leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. I wash it down with my own water. “Well, you were at elevation for a few days. You had probably acclimated enough at that point.”
“I’ve been living in Colorado for over a month. Shouldn’t I be acclimated by now?”
I shake my head. “Greeley is like forty-six hundred feet. So is Grand Junction. We’re at almost nine thousand here. It makes a difference.”
Taking another bite, he nods.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Sitting down has helped.” He sips his water, crinkling his nose. “This is awful. What is it?”
I laugh. “Electrolyte drink mix. You know, the stuff they give kids when they get sick so they don’t get dehydrated?”
“Bleh.” He sticks his tongue out before smacking his lips. “Poor kids.”
“Poor you, right now. You have to drink all of it.”
“Seriously?”
“Mhm. Hiking guide’s orders.”
He feigns a gag. “This is so going in my report.”
I giggle, but cut it off when I notice he’s not laughing. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“Of course I am. I promised I’d give an accurate account of how you handled the hike. This is part of it, and a big part, at that. It’s not every day your hiking partner tries to kill you.”
I scoff and stand up. If that was meant to be a joke, it sure didn’t sound like one. I glance down at his energy bar. It’s only halfway done, but I can’t rush him. He needs to rest before we can continue. That doesn’t mean I have to hang out with him, though.
“I have to pee,” I lie before storming off into the thicket.
Sam has to be the most infuriating person on the planet. How I got stuck with him, I’ll never know. It’s like I’m being punished, but I have no idea what I’m being punished for. In fact, I feel like I’ve been punished enough already between dealing with Connor’s abandonment and Sam’s lies.
Once I’m far enough away from the trail, I put my hands on my hips and look to the sky. It’s a beautiful day with a small smattering of clouds. I should be happy I’m out here. I should be ecstatic that I get to hike on a day like this. But, here I am, gritting my teeth every time Sam opens his stupid mouth.
Whenever I think he’s warming up to me, and I let my guard down, he chimes in with some jerk-off thing to say. He ruins every nice moment we begin to have.
How was it so good in July, but so horribly frustrating now? Why couldn’t he have stayed in Wyoming? At least then I’d have that perfect memory. It never would have been tarnished and I could have lived my life wallowing in the fact that I lost the most wonderful guy in the world.
I let out a groan, dropping my head to pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m not that lucky, I guess.
With a deep, cleansing breath, I trudge back toward the trail. I find Sam using the fallen tree trunk to stretch upon. “How are you feeling now?” I ask.
“Honestly? Still kind of shitty.” His chest expands as he sucks in a big gulp of air. “I feel like I can’t fill my lungs.”
I chew on my lower lip. “We should call it, then. Let’s turn around and get home.”
“What? No, Brynn. I’m supposed to help you complete this hike.” He clears his throat. “I mean, I won’t get my extra credit if I don’t.”
Ah, there it is. This isn’t about helping me at all. It’s about his grade. “We can ask Professor Duncan if we need to make it up, but you’re in no shape to keep up with the elevation changes. Let’s go.” With a defeated sigh, I backtrack slowly down the path toward the trailhead.
Once we’re back at the parking area, I ask Sam, “Are you okay to drive?”
“I think so.” He wobbles his head around. “I’m not lightheaded anymore, just nauseous and tired.”
“Be sure to drink a lot of water today and rest. You should be okay in the morning.”
“Thanks.” He drops his gaze to the ground for a moment before looking me in the eye. There’s a hint of remorse in his gaze. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for getting altitude sickness.”
I give a despondent nod. “Thanks, but it’s not your fault.” With another deep breath, and an even deeper exhale, I bolster myself for what I’m about to say. “It’s mine.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Brynn, don’t think?”
“No, Sam.” I put my hand up. “I should have taken into account the fact that you aren’t used to these elevations. I should have been more patient and taken my time.” Frustration with myself bubbles in my gut, settling in my stomach like a ball of lead. “You can add that to your report.”
Before Sam can retort, I hop into Lisa’s car and drive away. I don’t need to hear how poorly he’s going to grade me. Or worse, I don’t need to hear more of his lies. He’ll just say how he won’t mention any of my failures, only to have my grade come back low because I wasn’t prepared enough. I know I messed up.
And I don’t need him digging the knife in any further.