Page 55 of Happiness for Beginners

“What about you?” I asked. “What good things will you remember about this day?”

“So far?” she asked. “The cowboy coffee we boiled on the stove. The sound of the wind rustling those pine branches overhead. The mossy smell of the woods. A little forget-me-not that was growing on the stream bank. That good, snug feeling when you settle your pack on your back and snap the hip belt. The crisp feeling in the air. The sound of the stream. The heart-shaped stone I found this morning near our tarp. The burn in my muscles as we go uphill. The quiet pat-pat noise our boots make on the trail. That crazy red bird that flew past a few minutes ago.”

“You’re too good,” I said. “You’re freaking me out.”

“I’ve just had more practice,” she said. “You can be just like me.”

“Probably notjustlike you,” I said. I was fairly certain, at this point, I was stuck being me.

“I told myself before this trip that I would appreciate everything,” she said. “It’s my battle cry:Appreciate Everything.”

I wondered what my battle cry would be right now.Ask Me if I Care?Leave Me Alone?Talk to the Fist? “I want a battle cry,” I said.

“I’ll share mine with you, if you like.”

“I’m going to try for an original,” I said, “but thanks.”

“There’s another good thing that I’m going to remember about this day,” Windy said then.

“What?”

Windy paused for a second. “The amazing, delicious, all-consuming crush I’ve got.” She turned around to wiggle her eyebrows at me without missing a step.

“You have a crush?” I said. “Already? We only just got here.”

“It was an obsession-at-first-sight kind of thing,” she said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Can’t you guess?”

I could, actually. I knew exactly who any—and possiblyevery—girl on this trip would get a crush on. But I held out hope that I was wrong. “Beckett!” I said.

“Ick! No!”

“Not Mason, or any of his minions.”

“Not Mason or the minions.”

“Hugh?” I asked hopefully.

“I think he might be g-a-y,” she said, in a stage whisper, although there was enough space between us and everyone else that nobody would have heard her, anyway.

“Well,” I said, wishing there were some way toejectfrom this conversation. “I can’t think of anybody else.”

“Seriously? You can’t?”

I pretended to think about it. “Nope.”

She slowed down to let me catch up side by side, and then she leaned in, still hiking, and whispered, “Jake.”

“Who’s that?” I said, feeling transparent even as I did.

“You know Jake! He’s the EMT. He fixed your knee! And your blisters!”

“Oh!” I said. “I thought his name was Jack.”

“Isn’t he dreamy?” she said, letting me fall behind her again.

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