All of this, though, requires me to bring clueless people out of their comfort zones. It’s not my favorite thing at the beginning of a trek, but by the end—
Thatis what keeps me coming back to lead again and again.
I glance down at Sadie’s dirty white shoes, then up her long, toned legs. She strikes me as a treadmill person.
“So what made you want to sign up for something like this?” I ask.
I’m genuinely perplexed. I thought I knew her type from the moment I laid eyes on her—a lot of which has played out exactly as I expected so far. That said, people like Sadie don’t often sign up for these things on their own; they’re usually dragged by a boyfriend or a best friend or a boss.
Or, like Zoe, outright lied to.
“The treacherous rocks, clearly,” she says, and I laugh. “And also the bugs.”
As if on cue, a mosquito lands on her arm; she slaps it away.
I size her up, determine she needs just alittleroasting. She’s making a joke like that, this soon after she almost fell from said treacherous rocks? She can take it.
“So which was it?” I ask. “Eat Pray LoveorWild?”
I’d put money on it that at least one of those books is hiding at the bottom of that overstuffed pack right this minute.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says—but the way she tries to hide her smile tells me everything.
I knew it.
“So youdidn’twake up one morning after reading some sort ofwoman-needs-emotional-cleanse-after-hitting-rock-bottom book and decide you needed to do the same thing?”
She glances down at the uneven trail, concentrating hard so she doesn’t trip.
“Okay, fine,” she admits, her single dimple popping as she grins. “Emotional cleanse, yes. But no to rock bottom.”
I want to ask more about that—why she felt the need for an emotional cleanse at all—because I can relate to that, unfortunately, even if I personally believe books likeEat Pray Lovehave sent more women home on crutches than with a healed heart.
Probably best to keep a professional distance, though.
“Are you some sort of influencer?” I ask instead. “Is that why you’re always on your phone?”
She scoffs. “I am not ‘always on my phone,’?” she protests, air quotes and all. “I’ve hardly looked at it all day!”
“Sure,” I say, giving her a hard time even though she’s right—she hasn’t had it out as much as yesterday. I can’t resist digging in a little, though. “Is that why I was woken up this morning by the sweet sounds of you talking to yourself inside your tent?”
She stops in her tracks, and the look on her face is priceless.
“Whoever Caden O’Connor is,” I go on, because I really can’t help it—Sadie wasnotexpecting this, and seeing her flustered is a nice change from the way she’s been trying to hold herself together out here, “he sounds like an asshole.Screwthat guy.”
I’m not sure if she wants to high-five me or slap me—for a split second, it looks like she’s torn between both options.
No, yeah, she definitely wants to slap me.
“Youeavesdroppedon me?!” she says, eyebrows raised to their limits.
“Believe me, it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Caden O’Connorisan asshole,” she mutters, but leaves it at that.
We’ve finally managed to close the gap between us and the rest of the group, just in time to hear Zoe ask, “Are we there yet?”
Joshua glances over his shoulder with an apologetic look. “Sorry, man,” he says. “Zoe isn’t used to this much walking.”
