INTO THIN AIR?
LILI WAS MAKING A LOT of sacrifices.
First of all, she had cleared four hours in her usual Saturday afternoon schedule. She had begged her mother for permission to go on a short hike in the hills around Golden Gate Park, telling her she was going with a friend (only a small white lie, since Max was a boyfriend), and promised to register with the park ranger and text her precise coordinates (latitude and longitude) every thirty minutes.
She had dressed in all the unflattering, nonfashionable outdoor gear she’d bought to go on the fateful camping-trip-from-hell back in December. She was pretending not to mind that the wind was blowing a gale, or that the track was still muddy from last night’s rain. And she was not pointing out that her idea of a “short hike” did not involve scaling what appeared to be a Himalayan-size slope.
But Max didn’t seem to appreciate any of that.
After French class the other day, they had kissed and made up. Apparently the Lana Del Rey look-alike was his cousin—Lili had been jealous for no reason. Max had suggested they spend the day together hiking, and Lili had agreed in order to show him that she could have fun in the outdoors after all, if it was only the two of them and she didn’t have to deal with the doomsday chorus of Cassandra and Jezebel.
But things weren’t working out that way.
“I can tell you’re not enjoying yourself,” Max said as they trudged up the hill, wind gusting Lili’s hair into her face. “We can just go back if you like.”
“No!” she protested. “Everything’s fine.”
“Then why haven’t you said anything for the last ten minutes?” He hurried on ahead.
“Maybe because I’m out of breath climbing Mount Everest!” Lili couldn’t help herself.
“This isn’t steep at all.” Max spun around to face her and stopped dead. “This isn’t as steep as the hill you walk up from Starbucks every day to get to school!”
“But that hill isn’t all muddy and rutted,” Lili complained. She kicked one hideous boot against the ridges of the track. The boots had been black when she left home—now they were a crusted clay brown. Flecks of mud had sprayed all over her fleece vest. Gross.
“See—this is the problem.” Max looked exasperated. “You’re way too high maintenance!”
“I am not high maintenance,” argued Lili. She tugged at the strands of her hair that were sticking to her mouth and felt the grit of windblown dirt salting her lip gloss. Disgusting.
“Just admit it.” Max folded his arms, staring her in the eyes. “That’s why things didn’t work out between us before, right? It wasn’t about my friends or your friends. We’re just too different.”
“I thought it was because one of those mean girls you hang around with told you a whole lot of lies about me,” Lili snapped.
After they’d finally stopped kissing that day at French, Max had confirmed what Lili had suspected all along. He’d confessed that Jezebel had told him that she’d seen Lili out with another guy on the same night that Lili was at home, totally grounded. Why, why, why Jezebel had made up such a malicious story, Lili wasn’t sure. She was probably in love with Max herself. Hello! He was much cuter than her boyfriend.
“It wasn’t just that,” Max said now, looking kind of sheepish when Jezebel’s Big Lie came up in conversation. “We’re very different as people.”
“No, we’re not!” She felt like she was going to cry.
“Look, Lil, you can’t even get dirt on your shoes. . . .”
“I can so!” Lili held up one foot, almost tumbling over onto her butt.
“You hate this.”
“I do not!”
Max was laughing, shaking his head. He walked up a steep incline, using his hands to pull himself up to a narrow ledge jutting out of the mountain. “Come on up here! The view is amazing!”
Lili looked at her nails. They were freshly painted. If she scrambled up after him, she would ruin them. “I can’t!”
“C’mon!” Max called. “Of course you can!”
“But I’ll get . . .” Lili was about to say dirty, but she knew that Max would just mock her. “I mean, what if I fall?”
“You won’t fall. I’ll pull you up once you get close,” he assured her, gazing down at her, his dark eyes sparkling. “Don’t be scared.”
But Lili didn’t make a move.
“You can’t do it, can you?” Max sighed. “Just admit it. You’re one of the most high-maintenance girls in the Bay Area.” He climbed down from the ledge and stood next to her.
Lili dropped her head so Max couldn’t see her crying. He was right. She knew it. She was high maintenance. She liked everything to be clean and tidy and perfect, which was why she and Nature had never gotten along, exactly. Nature was so random and messy.
And Max was a free spirit. He didn’t care about things like wearing a smart blazer or using the right knives and forks at a formal dinner.
“It’s all right,” he said kindly, stroking Lili’s arm. She tried not to flinch at the thought of his muddy hands messing up her fleece vest. “Let’s just cut our losses and go back.”
She nodded and turned to follow Max back down the hill. Maybe he was right: It was time to cut their losses.
Maybe they just weren’t meant to be.