Page 3 of Happiness for Beginners

“That’s when you’re exiled from your room,” he explained, “because someone else is having sex there.”

“I know what sexiled is,” I said. “They had that word even way back when I was in college.”

Jake nodded approvingly.

“Why is he inyourroom?” I asked.

Jake gestured around like it was obvious. “You can’t bring a girl in here.”

I scanned the bikini posters. “But yours is okay?”

He shrugged. “My filth level is lower.”

I sighed again. There were very few things Duncan could be doing that I wouldn’t be willing to interrupt right now, but “getting lucky” was one of them. “Can you give him a message for me?” I asked.

“Sure,” Jake said. “Anything.”

“Tell him he’s a moron, and he can kiss my ass.”

Jake nodded as he committed it to memory. “Got it.”

“Don’t forget,” I said, as I bent down to lift Pickle’s carrier.

He crossed his heart. “I won’t forget,” he said. “Especially the part about your ass.”

Was heflirtingwith me? He was ten years younger than I was! Uppity behavior like that demanded an icy stare-down. But, in honor of the fact that he’d cut off that greasy ponytail, I let it slide.

I was at the door when he said something that stopped me. “Thanks for the ride, by the way.”

I turned back with my hand still on the knob. “What ride?”

Jake looked flummoxed for a second, then frowned. “The ride?” he said. “Tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m actually going out of town tomorrow, so I can’t give you a ride anywhere.” Not that I would have, anyway. Had I ever given him a ride to anything? What was he thinking?

“I know,” he said. “You’re going to Wyoming. To go hiking. On a survival course.”

“That’s right,” I said, surprised that Duncan had conveyed so many details correctly.

“I’m also going to Wyoming tomorrow. To go hiking—”

And then, with dread, I knew what he was going to say.

“—on the same survival course.”

I set Pickle down. “I’m sorry. What?”

“We’re going to the same place,” he said, like it all made perfect sense. “Duncan said you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride.”

It didn’t make sense. Why would this kid Jake be going on the same trip as me? How could the universe even let that happen? This was something I was doing for myself, on my own. A Back Country Survival Company course, no less. BCSC courses were famously hard-core, invariably grueling, and occasionally life-threatening. It was a big deal for me. It was supposed to be a spiritual journey. It was supposed to signify my bouncing back after the worst year—or six—of my life. Duncan’s goofy friend could not be coming, too. He was not invited.

“But this is something I’m doing alone,” I said matter-of-factly, in a mind-melding tone that always worked beautifully on the first graders in my class.

“Well,” he said, “it’s twelve people plus the instructor, so you won’t exactly be alone.”

Not a first grader, then. “But, I mean,alonelikeon my own.”

“On your own with eleven other people,” he confirmed. “And me.”

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