Page 18 of The No Pressure Pact
Connor catches my eye again. “What about you? Feeling brave?”
“Define brave,” I say, although I straighten my spine and square my shoulders to appear as such.
He lifts a shoulder. “Hiking up a cold mountain trail to willingly throw yourself into glacial runoff.”
The train rounds a bend, the lake glittering far below, sunlight flashing off the surface like it’s been freshly polished. Behind it, the mountains climb higher and steeper, dotted with trees that have started to lose their leaves, the deep burgundies and reds of the leaves barely holding on to the branches.
Connor shifts slightly, his knee bumping mine for a second before he draws it back without comment. I don’t move either, but I feel the space between us buzz a little more.
“Okay, but seriously,” Banks says, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. His watch is obscenely shiny, and I wonder if it’s one of those special editions that is worth more than my yearly salary that they were talking about last night. “Is there, like, a snack hut at the top? I need to mentally prepare.”
“Oh my god, babe,” Nicole whines. “Youjusthad breakfast.”
“We have lunch reservations,” Elle says. “And we packed snacks. Relax.”
Banks leans back with a content sigh. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
The banter keeps going, light and quick, and people get on and off the train at different stations. For a while, I stop thinking about Green Cards and a manager that is sucking the soul out of me and how long it’s been since I’ve seen my family. For the firsttime in weeks, I feel like I’m not catching up to my own life—I’m actually in it.
The train slows as we approach the station, the voice over the speaker announcing our arrival. Everyone starts gathering their things—backpacks, sunglasses, water bottles—and Elle gives us a small briefing.
“Okay, it’s a short walk to the trail entrance, and then we’ll start the hike. It’s not hard, but if you’re dramatic or out of shape,” she says with a pointed expression at Banks, “now’s the time to stretch.”
9
CONNOR
“The air smells cold.”It’s the first thing that crosses my mind the second we step into the trailhead. It’s wide and steep, with a very well-kept gravel path that leads into the mountain. I don’t mean to say it out loud, but I hear a few mumbled agreements from the group behind me.
Everything is crisp and a little damp, like the sun hasn’t had a chance to stop by and dry everything up from the morning mist. I’m not usually a nature guy, but even I can admit this place is stupidly beautiful. The trees are large and towering, and the paths are winding with no end in sight. Just a trail up the mountain to what I think could be something at the top or maybe towards the side.
We’ve barely made it fifty feet, and already Banks is complaining. “This incline is disrespectful,” he mutters, taking exaggerated steps up the path.
“You’ve walked twenty feet,” Elle says, not even looking back. She looks spry and athletic in her earth-toned athleisure. Athena used to wear those matching sets all the time on the weekends, even if she wasn’t going to work out. I never understood why she did it, but it must be a thing, because every woman in the groupis donning similar outfits—except Manuela, who’s in a soft knit sweater and comfy sneakers that definitely don’t look like they’re apt for hiking or even any sort of sporting activity. But somehow, she looks like she belongs here more than any of them. “You’ll survive.”
“I’m not built for this terrain,” he insists, huffing and puffing by his girlfriend. Nicole rolls her eyes but smiles at him nonetheless, like she’s completely charmed by his foolishness. “I’m a man of the city.”
“You’re from Connecticut,” Cash throws over his shoulder.
I catch Manuela’s smirk beside me. She’s walking behind Elle and a few steps ahead of me, her sunglasses pushed up on her head, hair tied in a loose bun. Her small backpack is tiny—maybe purely decorative?—and I’m guessing it holds a protein bar and a phone. Still, she’s holding her own on the trail, and every so often she glances over her shoulder like she’s checking to see if I’m still back here.
I am.
We pass through a narrow stretch of trees that opens up to a ridge overlooking the valley. The tip of a lake glitters in the distance, and somewhere below, I can hear bells on cows or goats or whatever charming livestock lives here. It’s the kind of view people use as screensavers or desktop wallpapers. Completely unreal.
“I promise, you guys, this looked shorter on the map,” Elle says, pausing to check her phone. “The wedding coordinator said it was only a three-kilometer walk, so I assumed that should be quick, right?”
“Itisshort,” Sterling says, not even winded. “You people are soft.”
Cash claps him on the shoulder. “Easy, man. You’re, like, ninety percent protein powder.”
“Elle, honey,” Jack says, dropping his voice just enough for those of us nearby to hear. “Are we sure about this?”
“Babe,” she replies, flipping her long hair over one shoulder and speeding up the hill. “Follow me.”
We keep walking.
The farther up the mountain we go, the more sunlight appears and the warmer it feels. Within the trees it feels damp and slightly chilly. Eventually, the trail levels off, leading to a clearing with big flat rocks and a few wooden benches that look like they’ve seen better decades. Right behind it, a large yellow building shines in the sun—its mostly outdoor space wraps around it, and there are a few patrons already sitting on the side that faces the valley.
