Boys, Bears, and a Serious Pair of Hiking Boots(53)
Author: Abby McDonald

Olivia blinks. “I know, and I’m sorry! It’s been so crazy. That’s why I came all this way in person. So we could catch up face-to-face!” Again, she beams at me like nothing’s wrong.

I stand there, dumb.

“Well, we’ll just have to work this out.” Susie whisks into gear. She locks up the car and reaches for Olivia. “Come on, we’d better go call your parents. They’ll be worried sick!” She ushers her back into the house, already talking about futon beds and return flights. I watch them go, still thrown.

“That’s the famous Olivia, huh?” Fiona twists a lock of hair around her finger, watching me.

“I guess. . . .”

“You don’t look so thrilled. I thought you guys were, like, BFFs.”

I pause. “So did I. Before . . .”

Before what, I’m not sure, but something about this feels wrong, as if two separate parts of my life have just been flung together. With a sigh, I pick up my bag of bubble-bliss bath foam and follow them all inside.

Olivia’s parents are as worried as you’d expect after getting a text from their seventeen-year-old daughter reading, Going 2 canada! Talk l8er! After an hour of parental bonding, Susie seems to have smoothed things over — reassuring them that Olivia isn’t hitchhiking with dangerous strangers anymore and will be put on a flight back to New Jersey on Saturday, when they get back from their cruise. With the first guests arriving soon, all those shiny new bedrooms are off-limits: I set up the inflatable mattress in my room for her and set about bringing her motley collection of mud-stained bags inside.

“Don’t even worry!” Olivia tells me as I cross back through the kitchen to find her some sheets. “I can camp outside if I need to. In fact, I’d be more comfortable out there — we’ve been sleeping out under the stars all summer.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, deciding to leave her duffel out in the laundry room. There’s a weird smell coming from the bag . . .

I wander back into the room. Olivia’s holding court from over a plate of that tofu (since apparently she’s also sworn off wheat and dairy since I saw her last), gesturing wildly as she describes life out in the great wilderness. Of upstate New York.

“So tell me more about this camp of yours.” Fiona swings her legs against a cabinet, regarding her with amusement. I pause, curious myself.

“It’s a collective,” Olivia corrects her, taking a gulp of water. “Although, all that stuff they promised about equality and input was total crap, because the minute Cash spoke up and suggested some changes, they went totally authoritarian on us. Fascists.”

“Where is Cash, anyway?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s visiting friends. Lying low after the Chicago thing. Anyway, this one time, we were starting to make dinner, and he noticed that the lentils weren’t certified organic, but they didn’t even —” She stops, looking past me out the back window. “What’s going on with that tree?”

Susie looks over. “Oh, the old spruce? We’re taking it down next week.”

Olivia looks heartbroken. “Is it sick?”

“Hmm? Oh, no.” Susie scoops a handful of chips from the bag Fiona is currently tearing through. “But it blocks out the light from at least three of the guest bedrooms, so we figured it would be best out of the way.”

Olivia’s mouth drops open, and she gets that indignant look that I know by now means trouble.

“How about I show you around town before it gets dark,” I interrupt, before she can launch into a lecture. “We can catch up, like you wanted.”

“Sure!” Olivia leaps up, leaving her half-finished plate on the table. “Let’s go!”

We cycle toward town, winding along the road on a pair of muddy mountain bikes. The sky is fading to a pale yellow dusk, it’s a perfect summer evening, and I have my best friend back beside me. So why do I feel so restless, like something is prickling beneath the surface of my skin?

“I see Little Miss Sunshine is still being a total bitch.” Olivia pedals slowly, getting used to the old bike. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”

“Fiona’s been great,” I say, defensive. “She’s really come around.”

“Huh. If you say so.”

We pass another few houses, buried in the dense tangle of weeds by the road. I try to think of something to say. I was never at a loss for words around her before, but it’s been so long since we were together, I feel weirdly shy.

“What are you doing out here, really?” I ask at last, glancing over. She’s changed into a threadbare gray tank and baggy khaki shorts, with a scrap of bandana twisted around her head. “We were going to be back home in a week; you didn’t have to come all this way.”

“But I did.” She stops pedaling, putting one foot on the dusty ground to steady herself. I circle around to face her. “I know I’ve been a crappy friend lately, I just got so busy with everything. . . .” She trails off, her voice regretful. “Anyway, I wanted to make it up to you in person, so we could spend the last part of our vacation together.”

“You mean the four days till you get shipped back home?”

Olivia makes a rueful face. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t think this one through. But that’s what you do, remember? I’m impulsive; you’re the planner. We make the perfect team!”

She waits there, hopeful. I soften.

“You really hitchhiked to Seattle?” I ask.

She grins, a familiar smile I must have seen a thousand times. “Well, kinda. A group from the Chicago protest was driving out, so I caught a ride with them. There were like, eight of us squeezed in a VW camper van. I swear, I lost all feeling in my legs!”

I giggle, despite myself. “How did you even end up there?”

“It was totally serendipitous!” She starts pedaling again. “After the collective leaders made such a big deal about Cash and his uprising —”

“His what?”

“They overreacted,” she says quickly. “It was supposed to be a democracy! So anyway, one of the other counselors had friends who were gathering in Chicago to protest the meeting, so we hitched a ride with him. It was awesome. We chained ourselves to the gates and sang protest songs. Like, hundreds of people came, and in the end, the police had to break it up with tear gas and riot gear.”

I gape at her, nearly swerving into a ditch. “No way! Weren’t you scared?”