Pride (8 page)

But the girls were all the way up in the front of the bus, the guys had slipped some Baileys into their morning coffee—and the desert road stretched ahead of them with no end in sight.

“I’m gonna get so ripped tonight—you guys in?”

“Shit, yeah!”

Adam smiled weakly as his teammates cheered around him.

His inner five-year-old had only one silent, but increasingly insistent question:
Are we there yet?

Not even close.

Winter in the desert sucked.

Kaia knew she shouldn’t have been too surprised—
everything
in the desert sucked—but winter was yet another, surprisingly painful disappointment.

She’d always looked forward to the season with a childlike enthusiasm: skating in Rockefeller Center, Frozen Hot Chocolate at Serendipity, the Macy’s Christmas decorations, even
The Nutcracker
at Lincoln Center. By January, everyone would be tired of the biting cold, the dark skies, the ever-present slush. But in December, winter was fresh and new, the air crisp and refreshing, and it was as if the entire city came alive.

Here, on the other hand—nothing. More hot days, more cold nights. Desert wind, desert sand. No ice skating, no cozy Burberry scarves—and certainly, no snow.

She’d called Powell, hoping that even from a distance he could liven up her night. But there’d been no answer. And he hadn’t called back. Not that Kaia missed him. Not that she wished she was up there on a stupid school trip—even home was an improvement over that. (Having her teeth drilled during a Novocain shortage would have been an improvement over that.) But she was bored, and she was bitter. And she couldn’t ignore the fact that while she was stuck on the couch, Powell would be whooshing his way down the slopes. And he wouldn’t be alone. That handsome figure and sexy accent pretty much went to waste in a town like Grace; a ski resort, however, was a whole different story.

Not that Kaia cared. She had a life of her own—even if it wasn’t a very thrilling one at the moment.

On a sudden impulse, she grabbed the phone book and flipped open to the entry for Guido’s Pizza. She wasn’t that hungry—especially not for the dried-out slab covered in greasy processed cheese and a watery layer of sauce that Guido had the nerve to call “pizza.” But if the pizza wasn’t tasty, the delivery boy definitely was—and, hungry or not, Kaia could use some good eye candy.

Let Powell do whatever he wanted up on the mountain. She was more than ready to have a little fun of her own.

“You’re going down!” Harper squealed, as Adam mashed a handful of snow down the back of her jacket.

The school had done a surprisingly decent job of picking a resort. White Stone Lodge was no prize in itself. The bus was parked in front of a complex of stout, reddish residential buildings all circling the three-story main lodge building, covered with faux brick and stone in a failed attempt to make it look homey. But even a run-down Motel 6 would have looked appealing in such a setting—a glistening blanket of snow covered the roofs, and delicate icicles dangled over the edge, turning the lodge into a giant gingerbread house rimmed with dripping sugar crystals. Jagged mountain peaks loomed in the background, slicing through a storybook blue sky. The endless grayish beige of the flat desert landscape had never seemed so far away.

Adam raced away as Harper scooped up an armful of snow and sent it flying in his direction.

“Face it, you suck at this, Gracie!” he called from a safe distance, pegging a snowball in her direction.

Oh, really?

She scooped up another handful and raced after him, tackling him to the ground. They tumbled into the snow together, heaving with laughter. Adam rolled over her and held a dripping snowball a few inches from her face.

“You want a piece of me?” he asked in a mock threatening voice, as icy drops spattered down on her.

She looked up at his flushed face, illuminated by a childlike joy, and suddenly lifted her head up to kiss him.

“I want
all
of you,” she said sincerely—and then, before he could stop her, grabbed the hand with the snowball and smashed it into his face.

“You snooze, you lose,” she crowed, exploding into laughter. He fell to the ground beside her, laughing just as hard.

The sky looked so different up here, she thought, barely noticing the chill creeping through her fingers and toes. It seemed so much closer, as if she could reach up and grab a cloud.

Adam’s gloved hand took her own, and she snuggled against him, wishing that they weren’t sprawled out in the open behind the resort. She wanted to be alone with him—now.

“Think your roommate’s going to be around tonight?” she asked innocently. Harper hadn’t actually told Adam about her WFS plan, but she figured he would see the possibilities of this weekend just as clearly as she did.

“Nah, Nikki kicked out her roommate, so he’s not going to be coming back tonight.”

Or ever, Harper thought—once Nikki got her claws into someone, she was unlikely to let go.

“So if you wanted to,” Adam began again, tentatively.

“It would be a shame to let an empty room go to waste,” she said casually. But her heart was thudding in her ears. Why was she so nervous?

“Are you sure?” he asked—and there was nothing casual about his tone.

She looked around at the sky, the mountains, the snow—his face. It was the perfect spot for a perfect moment.

“I’m sure.”

Since their chaperone had disappeared within minutes of arrival, the Haven High kids were free to do whatever they wanted at White Stone Lodge. There was a party in room 17, free pot in room 32, and Miranda was pretty sure she’d heard something about skinny-dipping in the hot tub.

But Miranda wasn’t in the mood. She’d brought along her new, über-portable laptop in hopes there’d be some kind of wireless network she could tap into. Her dating profile had been up for a few days and, much as she hated to admit it, she was desperate to see whether anyone had responded to her. It seemed a little pathetic, to have come all this way, spent all this money, just to spend another Saturday night at home in front of the computer … but on the other hand, she thought, logging on to her e-mail server, Harper was likely gone for the night, so it’s not like anyone would ever have to know.

Congratulations,
Spitfire
, the following
3
users have expressed interest in your profile!

User Profile: TheDude

Sex: male

Age: 17

Height: 6′1″

Favorite color: gold

Favorite food: beer

If I were an animal, I’d be: a PARTY animal

Celebrity I most look like: Brad Pitt

Best lie I’ve ever told: No Officer, I haven’t been drinking.

Three things I can’t live without: beer, sex, pot

I am … one wild and crazy guy, looking to party it up with one (or more) lucky ladies.

You
are … totally hot, especially in a miniskirt—and out of one. If you know what I mean. Wink, wink.

And then there was bachelor number two …

User Profile: HanSolo

Sex: male

Age: 16

Height: 5′3 ½″

Favorite color: Martian red

Favorite food: peanuts

If I were an animal, I’d be: a Wookie

Best lie I’ve ever told: It’s not a doll—it’s an action figure.

Celebrity I most look like: Mark Hamill

Three things I can’t live without:
Star Wars
boxed set, comic books, and my scale model of the Millennium Falcon (I built it myself!)

I am … the guy at the back of the class that you’ve never noticed before. The one lurking by your locker that you brush past without a word. I’m very smart, I just need some help with my people skills—at least that’s what my mom says.

You
are … friendly, nice, a
Star Wars
fan (may the Force be with you!). You like going to conventions and building models. And you would be willing to dress up like Princess Leia in the gold bikini.

And, of course, Mirandas personal favorite:

User Profile: Thrasher

Sex: Yes, please

Age: 18

Height: 11 inches

Favorite color: whatever color your thong is

Favorite food: pizza

If I were an animal, I’d be: a coyote

Best lie I’ve ever told: Of course I remember your name.

Celebrity I most look like: the Rock

Three things I can’t live without: my bike, my booze, my band

I am … a guy who likes motorcycles, trucks, booze, and hard rock.

You
are … a chick who digs guys who like motorcycles, trucks, booze, and hard rock.

Spitfire
, if you would like to send a message to any of these users, click here.

Miranda snorted in disgust. What had she been thinking? Like anyone other than the freaks and the geeks would be using this stupid Web site. She could only imagine the look on these losers’ faces if they ever saw who they’d picked. There was a horrifying thought: Even these freak shows probably wouldn’t want to date her if they got the chance.

Face it, Miranda,
she told herself, flicking off the computer.
You’re just doomed to be alone—forever
.

“We should really get some sleep,” Beth pointed out, wriggling out of Kanes grasp.

He checked the clock on the nightstand: 10:40.

“Sleep?” he asked in surprise. “It’s way too early for that. Besides”—he grabbed her and pulled her down beside him—“I’m sure we can find something more interesting to do.”

She stiffened beneath his grasp and, again, pulled away.

Kane issued a silent curse—pulling away was all she ever did, and this whole chase thing was beginning to lose its luster. “Fine, we’ll sleep,” he said irritably. “I’ve been looking forward to waking up next to you—”

“Actually,” she interrupted, rising from the bed and pulling on her shirt (despite his best efforts, her jeans had never even made it off), “I think I should go back to my room.”

“Why? We’ve got plenty of space, plenty of privacy. Isn’t this why we—?”

She bit her lip and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. “We’d get in a lot of trouble if we got caught,” she said softly, backing away. “And I should really—besides, it’s a big day tomorrow. And maybe tomorrow night …”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he urged her, following her to the door and taking hold of her waist before she slipped out. “What’s wrong?” he asked, gently turning her to face him. “You’re trembling.”

He felt her muscles clench, and for a second he thought she would pull away again, but then she relaxed into the embrace and touched his face lightly with the palm of her hand. “I just need to go,” she told him. “Okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” he promised.

“You’re not mad?”

“Not mad at all.” He kissed her, softly and gently, breathing her in. “But are you sure?”

“You make it pretty hard to be sure,” she told him, pressing against him and kissing him again, with more urgency this time, gripping his body as if it were a life preserver, keeping her afloat. “
Really
hard.”

There was more kissing.

And then she was gone.

“Harper?” he whispered.

The room was dark, and she could see only a bare outline of his figure, carved out by a shaft of moonlight filtering through the window. She pressed herself against him, running her hands across his face, his skin, trying to memorize the shape of his body, the feel of it beneath her fingers.

“Harper, you know I—with Kaia—”

“I know,” she said quietly, stopping him with a kiss. The last thing she wanted to hear about, think about, was Kaia. Adam with Kaia. Not here—not now.

“I just want you to know,” he pressed on, “it was just that once—and this is the first time with …” He stopped and rolled over on his side, his face inches from hers. He brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. “It’s different with you.”