and dick waving and you don’t need me for that.”
I stood up and shouldered my bag. “I’m leaving.” I turned to Ben. “I’m done. So, I won’t be at rehearsal. Makeup or otherwise.”
No one tried to stop me as I left. As a parting gesture, I tossed over my shoulder, “Ben wrote the Marcy-the-sexy-secretary sketch, by the way. Way to go, champ!”
I didn’t wait to hear the backpedaling. The “Oh, the secretary sketch isn’t so bad after all . . .” or worse, the “Actually, now that I read it again, I’m not sure about the sleepwalking bear sketch . . .”
I thumped down the stairs, my full water bottle swinging from my Second City tote bag, banging my hip with each step. As I reached the path, a big gust of wind blew up and a flock of birds abandoned a nearby tree in unison. One of the birds flew so near my head, I flinched.
I set my teeth and marched, my Chacos kicking up rocks and dust as I went.
I was breathing easy. I wasn’t sure if it was from breaking free of those dillholes, or if I was starting to acclimate to the elevation a little. Maybe both.
I swung my arms as I walked. Without me, they didn’t have a solid cold open. Without me, they’d start picking on each other. Without me, they’d maybe even turn on Ben.
A few minutes into my sojourn, the wind died down, the chattering and chasing of the birds quieted, and a creeping worry sneaked into my periphery. If I had actually quit Varsity, what was I going to do for another nine days? Would they take me on JV? Or was I forfeiting that possibility? Would Ben tell them I was “too sensitive”? Would they put me on a skill-building team? Or would they tell me I had to go home?
What were the Gildas going to say? What about Will? My stomach dropped.
Nina Knightley.
My chest felt tight, and I slowed my walk.
What had I done?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
What was I supposed to do now? Just pace in circles? Wear new paths through the woods? Staring at my sandals, I hesitated. Was there poison ivy in Colorado?
The sound of chattering drew my attention, and I watched a pile of middle school–age Boy Scouts hike down our road, trying very hard to maintain a straight line.
Boy Scouts!
Turning on my heel, I clutched my bag to my shoulder with one hand and braced the water bottle with the other. My Boy Scouts took the same hike for lunch every day, right? I’d been invited any time I wanted. I knew what path they’d started on at least. Jogging, I willed my lungs to acclimate more. Make active choices. Be in the moment. It was a little far-fetched that I’d find them, but what other plans did I have?
Before long, the path grew narrower. I alternated between jogging until I couldn’t breathe and brisk walking. With every step, Brandon, Ben, and Xander’s words echoed in my brain. “Ellie wrote it?” “Did your brother help you or something?” “It’s just—it was really funny. And girls usually aren’t—well . . .”
Tears threatened, but I blinked them away.
I stopped for a moment and closed my eyes, listening for signs of human existence, but all I heard were chipmunks chittering, birds chirping, and the breeze rustling aspen tree leaves.
Finally, I came to a crossroads. A giant rock held court at the Y in the path. This was as far as I knew. I could guess and take one of the paths randomly . . . Or maybe I could see ahead a little. I peered down one of the paths and for a second was sure I saw Jesse, Murph, and Ricky. But when I got a closer look, they were much too young (and loud) to be my scouts.
Maybe height would help. I climbed on top of the rock and hoisted myself up to standing. Blocking the sun’s glare with my hand, I squinted, peering down one path, then the other. The thick foliage prevented me from seeing much farther than I could on the ground. “Dammit,” I muttered.
Before I could firmly settle into a haze of disappointment, however, a male voice jerked me out of it.
“Zelda?”
I screamed so loudly, another flock of small birds vacated their tree in unison. Terrifying birds was getting to be a thing with me.
“Whoa!” Ricky’s hands were raised defensively as he appeared at the foot of the rock. “Just me!”
I shook my head.