She flopped back onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. "I can't believe classes haven't even started yet. This orientation week is going to kill me."
"You survived your overnight hike."
"Barely. My group leader was this tiny woman named Ms. Vance who hikes like she's being chased by demons. I thought I was in decent shape." She rubbed her calves. "I was very wrong. How was yours?"
I thought about the campfire. The Amarok story. James sitting beside me in the dark, saying things I didn't know how to answer.
"Fine."
"Just fine?" She propped herself up on her elbows. "Because I heard from Charlie that you set a pace so brutal Mr. Boone had to tell you to slow down. And that you and Cowboy had some kind ofmomentby the fire."
"Charlie talks too much."
"Charlie is a gift to gossip everywhere." She grinned. "So? Moment? Details?"
"There was no moment."
"That's not what Charlie said."
"Charlie wasn't sitting next to me."
"Aha! So Jameswassitting next to you!"
I threw the pillow back at her. She caught it, laughing.
"I'm just saying," she continued, "you came back from that hike looking at James like he was a problem you couldn't solve. And he's been looking at you like you hung the moon ever since."
"Nothing happened. We talked. That's it."
"Youtalked." She said it like I'd confessed to a crime. "About what?"
“Survival. Campfire stuff. He said you mentioned I like mountain climbing.”
Ivy studied me, her expression shifting from teasing to thoughtful. “You know, for someone who says nothing happened, you’re being awfully defensive. I just… noticed your books.”
I didn't have an answer for that.
She let it go, reaching for the orientation packet on her desk. "Okay, we should probably figure out our schedules. Apparently we get some choice in the afternoon sessions?"
I grabbed my own packet. Morning blocks were mandatory survival basics. Afternoons offered electives — Arctic First Aid, Wilderness Navigation, Weather Pattern Recognition, Psychological Resilience Training.
This was what I came for. Not the regular classes starting next week. This.
"I'm doing the tracking module," I said. "And advanced first aid. And weather patterns, and—"
"All of them? You're doing all of them?"
"As many as I can fit."
Ivy stared at me. "It's orientation week. We're supposed to be easing into things. Making friends. Finding the good snacks."
"I know where the good snacks are. Your desk, third drawer."
“Okay, fair. But still.” She shook her head. “Most people are just trying to survive this week. You’re treating it like boot camp.”
“I like being prepared.”
“There’s prepared,” she said, her eyes flicking down to my legs, “and then there’s whateveryouare. I mean—have you seen your calf muscles? And you’re always running the stairs.”
