When they stopped to slip microspikes over their shoes after spotting patches of icy snow, Alexei was absently munching on a bag of nuts, staring into space and wondering what Ben’s favorite class had been in school, before he even realized the entire atmosphere around Ben had changed.
Alexei almost choked on a cashew when he heard Ben clear his throat.
“I feel I should tell you,” Ben said, the first words he had spoken in an hour, “that I am a bit nervous about the snow.”
Alexei looked at him, more surprised to hear Ben’s voice than anything, and that was when he saw it. Ben’s jaw was clenched, those open, joyful eyes now reserved.
The snow indicated they’d reached Fuller Ridge, a notoriously tricky stretch near the peak of San Jacinto. Being anxious about the snow was natural—Alexei himself wasn’t necessarily excited—but Alexei was thrown by this sudden evidence that Ben was not perfect. What a dangerous thing to know.
“Yeah?” was all Alexei could think to say.
“I’m from Nashville.” Ben shrugged. “And it does snow in Nashville, sometimes. But I’ve neverhikedon snow before. You know, like, on the side of a mountain. So.”
Nashville! He had thought Ben had a slight accent. Fascinating, though. Alexei desperately wished he had access to his computer. He could mark a check box in his spreadsheet of Ben Questions.
“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “I’m terrified of the desert.”
Ben turned toward him, and Alexei could tell this factdidmake Ben feel better. Because he was grinning again. Which made the admission 100 percent worth it. Alexei felt almost proud of himself for creating that grin.
“I’ve found it to be almost absurdly beautiful myself,” Ben said.
Alexei remembered a road trip his family had taken when he was in the fifth grade, from Vancouver, Washington, to Salt Lake City. How much of those twelve long hours in the car had been consumed by flat, barren landscapes. It had been the first time Alexei felt that sense of unease about open spaces, the lack of anything between the soil and the sky leaving his skin hot and uncomfortable.
“It is. Beautiful,” Alexei confirmed after a moment. “It’s just that…I’m from the Northwest, and I need…trees. Big ones. Like, everywhere.”
Ben smiled, as if Alexei had not just sounded like a doofus. Alexei’s feelings about nature always sounded better in his head, or when he wrote them down, when he had time to find the right words. Out loud they came out like such: Birds are pretty. I like trees!!
Ugh.
“I’m stoked to see the Northwest,” Ben said, genuine and kind, sounding close to Relaxed Ben again. Which was a relief. Still, Alexei glanced at him, concerned.
“There’s going to be a lot of snow between here and there.”
Ben breathed out, nodding.
“Better get on with it then.”
At first, the snow was a hassle. The snowbanks came and went, sometimes at surprising heights, requiring Ben and Alexei to climb up and down their sides like stairs. Larger patches obscured the trail, making the transition back to dry land confusing. On open passes under the high sun, the snow’s brightness made them squint, while furious swarms of insects buzzed around their faces. When it hid underneath the shelter of trees, it was icy.
But after the heat and dust of lower elevations, the coolness of the snow was also wondrous. Every now and then, Alexei removed the red bandanna he wore around his head to keep sweat from getting in his eyes, and rolled it around in the snow. Returning the wet, cool bandanna to his skin brought an almost painfully enjoyable relief. Another bit of surprising grace, here in the middle of the desert.
The snow slowed their pace, but it was doable.
Until they came to the last stretch of the ridge.
The trail wrapped its way along a steep path, yards from the very top of the pass, and it was completely covered in white. One slippery misstep would send a person careening down a slope that appeared to end in large, sharp rocks at the bottom. A bottom that looked awfully far away from here.
Ben and Alexei paused on the last bit of visible dirt trail before the snowy expanse began. Alexei stuck his trekking poles in the ground, leaning his weight forward, examining the path ahead. It was a long stretch of snow. They’d have to take it slow and steady.
He looked behind him at Ben, who had taken a small step backward. And the look on Ben’s face wasn’t low-level anxiety anymore.
This was wide-eyed, pale-cheeked, all-out terror.
“So this is what we’ll do,” Alexei said, his mind reverting instantly to a need to help, to problem-solve, to calm. All verbs he had been good at once, when he had still been a good older brother. When he had helped lead camping trips with his youth group. When he had run varsity cross-country in high school, helping the younger runners get over their struggles and disappointments.
“I’ll go first.” He forced his voice to sound as confident as he could. “We’ll face the snowbank, walk sideways so we don’t have to look down. We have our spikes on and it looks pretty well packed from other hikers. We’ll take it as slow as we need to. It’ll be okay.”
Ben swallowed. Gave the barest hint of a nod.
