Page 83 of Happiness for Beginners

In the end, I wrote down,Anybody but Jake,circled it twice, folded up my slip of paper, and turned it in.

When Beckett had collected them all, he stuffed them into the pocket of his daypack and said he’d take a couple of days to review our requests and assemble the groups.

In the meantime, we’d work our way to a section of the range where the trail split into three roughly equivalent paths—each path for a different Solo group. When we got there, after reviewing our maps and strategies, he’d turn us loose for twenty-four hours and cross his fingers. During that time, we’d have to find our way, find water, pitch and strike our camps, and make good decisions over and over again. “This is what you’re here for, people. This is what you’ve been working toward. The Solos. Sink or swim. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten.”

Then he grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “But not quite yet. Not today. Today, we’re just hiking a totally brutal pass called Devil’s Crotch.”

***

Three days later, after supper, Beckett gathered us all to announce the groups for the Solos.

“Remember when I asked you to tell me who you wanted in your group?” he asked.

We nodded.

“Well, I forgot to mention one thing. I don’t care.” He lifted his hands, in a what-were-you-thinking shrug. “I don’t care who you like or who you don’t like—who you have a crush on—who you dream about in your sleeping bag. Doesn’t matter. This is not about having fun. It’s certainly one of the few things in life that’s not about sex. This is survival, folks. I’ve matched you up not withwho you want—but withwho you need. To survive. Skills. Remember those? You came here to learn wilderness skills? Some of you have paid close attention, even taken notes”—here, he paused to point a finger gun right at me—“others of you have wasted your time—and mine. But this is the moment that’s either going to make you or break you.”

He reached into his daypack and pulled out his list. “These are the groups. They are nonnegotiable. Do not come to me and tell me you don’t like Vegas or that Flash farts in his sleep. I don’t care! Maybe Dosie makes fun of you behind your back, or maybe Heartbreaker won’t give you the time of day. Too bad! These lists are for your safety and survival. You will make the most of them, and you will be grateful for the opportunity.”

I crossed my fingers.Not Jake,I chanted in my head.Not Jake, not Jake, not Jake.

“Jake!” Beckett called out then. “You will Solo with…” He checked his list again. “Flash, Dosie, and Calamity Jane.”

I looked around. Calamity Jane? Who was that? Then I realized Beckett was pointing at me with another finger pistol. “That’s you, Holdup,” he said. “New nickname. Get used to it.Pew.”

Windy turned out to be with Caveman, Hound Dog, and Caboose.

She was at my side before Beckett had even finished reading off the rest of the names. “You’re with Jake?” she asked. “You got Jake?”

“I didn’taskfor him,” I said.

“Trade ya?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Windy grabbed my hand and pulled me over to Beckett.

“Can we trade places?” she asked. “In the Solo groups?”

Beckett tilted his head, like,Seriously?“No.”

“But I thought you didn’t care,” Windy said.

“I don’t care whoyouwant in your group. I do care whoIwant in your group.”

Windy crossed her arms in front of her and tried to stare Beckett down. Then, at last, when it didn’t work, she flipped that long sheet of yellow hair, and marched away. It was the most juvenile gesture I’d ever seen from her.

Now it was my turn to stare Beckett down. I crossed my own arms. “I put ‘anyone but Jake’ on my list.”

“I know,” Beckett said. “And then you got Jake.”

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“You gave me Jake because I asked not to have him?”

He tilted his head. “Not exactly.”

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