Val drove worse when she was annoyed: even Mad Max would have pulled over and let her pass.
The road curled and uncurled as they wound down toward the valley. Val swerved, hit the brake, swerved again. Twice, Zoe felt the tires drop off the edge of the pavement and rumble over dirt. It made her jaw chatter.
“I’m gonna go ahead and deploy the air bag now,” she said. “Just so it’s ready.”
Val took her eyes off the road—not that they were actually on the road—and glared at her.
“You’re being a dick tonight,” she said.
“I don’t think I am,” said Zoe.
“ ‘I don’t think I am,’ ” said Val. “That’s a dick-ish thing to say.” She pounded her fist on the steering wheel. “When Dallas and I both think something is a bad idea? It’s a bad idea.”
“Why are you so pissed?” said Zoe. “This is not even in the Top Ten of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.”
“Glacier is going to be deserted and dark as shit,” said Val. “And I’m not all woodsy and intrepid like you, Zoe. I like TV. I like doing Gloria’s nails. I like napping.”
“I like napping!”
“Oh, please. You say you like napping, but you don’t—not like I do!”
A pair of nervous deer appeared at the edge of the road, looking to cross. Val barked, “Don’t even!” and shot past them.
“You’ve been out of control since you met X,” she told Zoe.
“Wow,” said Zoe.
“You’re telling lies right and left,” said Val. “You’ve got me lying to Gloria, which I’ve never done. The first lie I ever told her was to protect you—and the second and the third. Now I’ve got to lie about where I’m going tonight. That’s gonna be lie number four.”
“I’m sorry,” said Zoe.
“Lie number four!” said Val.
“I had no idea—” said Zoe.
“I know you didn’t,” said Val. “Because I’m your best friend and I want you to have all the cute boys and all the cake and soda you want. But you’re dangerous to be around. Seriously, Zo. Have you noticed that your family doesn’t even have a house anymore?”
“Okay,” said Zoe. “Okay, okay, okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay stop.”
Everything Val had said was true. Zoe knew she should tell her to turn around, but couldn’t make herself say the words. The car felt hot now. Claustrophobic. Zoe leaned forward to turn down the heat.
“I found somebody I love, and he loves me, too,” said Zoe. “You know how hard that is?”
“I’m a lesbian in Montana—with blue hair,” said Val. “Yeah, I know how hard it is, thanks.” She paused. “I’m gonna say something now that’s gonna piss you off. But honestly, I don’t care.”
“Say it,” said Zoe. “Go.”
“I think you fell in love so fast because a ton of bad shit had just happened to you,” said Val.
Zoe stared at her.
“That’s your genius theory?” she said.
“Yes,” said Val. “Shut up.”
“Okay, yeah, it’s true,” said Zoe. “I was messed up because of my dad and the Wallaces. Obviously. I fell for X faster than maybe I would have because I needed it more. However.”
“Here it comes,” said Val.
“However, that doesn’t mean I don’t actually love him,” said Zoe, “or that anything you say is going to make me stop.”
She stared out the window as the trees flew past.
“I don’t want you to stop,” said Val. Her voice was quieter now—barely audible above the radio. “I didn’t say that.”
“It’s just …,” said Zoe.
“It’s just what?” said Val. “What is it just?”
“I know I’m being erratic,” said Zoe. “I know I’m being selfish. But I’m in love with somebody I may not be able to see—or talk to, or touch—ever again. I’ve got a dog dying in the living room. I’ve got a father who lied to us forever and then just took off …”
“Plus you suck at Spanish,” said Val. “I mean, if we’re gonna whine about everything. In Spain, they’d put you in kindergarten.”
“Yes,” said Zoe, “there’s that, too. So I need a win tonight. If all that happens is I meet Timothy Ward, and he reminds me a tiny bit of X, it’ll help me breathe for a while. I know it sounds dumb.”
“Okay,” said Val. “Okay, okay, okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Okay stop.”
Zoe let out a sigh. The right side of the car slipped off the road for the third time.
“You still love me?” Zoe said.
Val jerked the car back onto the pavement.
“Ish,” she said.
The road into Glacier was slick and empty under the moon. Val leaned down to fiddle with the radio when her pop station started to disintegrate, and nearly plowed into one of the ticket booths. Zoe unzipped her Survival Sh*t backpack, pulled out a white helmet, and strapped it on.
“You’re funny,” Val said. “Actually, I want one, too.”
Zoe unzipped More Survival Sh*t, and took out a second helmet. Val leaned toward the passenger seat as she drove, and Zoe set it on her friend’s head like a crown.
The deeper they went into the park, the less they talked. Val drove more slowly, which was actually a bad sign: she was nervous. A light rain started to fall, then turned to hail. The hailstones were no bigger than the head of a pin, but the noise—the insistent pecking on the roof, the way it was amplified in the dead air of the car—unnerved Zoe.
“How is Gloria?” she said.
“Is this the part where you ask about me because you feel guilty?” said Val.
“Yes,” said Zoe, “and the next part is the one where you forgive me.”
“It is?” said Val. “Really? Remind me if I forget. Gloria’s a mess. What do you expect me to say?”
Gloria’s anxiety and depression had burrowed in deep when, years before, she told the foster family she was living with that she was gay. Her foster father called her a vile word, then skulked out of the room like she’d contaminated it. Her foster mother grabbed the nearest object—a pair of scissors—and hurled it at her. She missed, but had thrown the scissors so hard that they stuck in the wall.
Gloria was twelve at the time.
The foster family kicked her out. The caseworker who drove her away made her sit in the backseat, which was protocol but made Gloria feel like a criminal. She’d since lived five years with a family that embraced her without qualification, but she never, ever talked about being a foster kid. Skin had never grown over the wounds.
Now, in the car, Zoe said, “Shit, I’m sorry. Is it the depression?”
“It’s everything,” said Val. “Part of the reason she gets depressed is that she’s exhausted from being so anxious all the time. If I text her constantly, I can usually get her out of bed for school. But, I mean, I’ve got to be like, ‘Are you brushing your teeth? Send me a picture of you brushing your teeth.’ And I can never get her to hang out with us. I mean, when was the last time you saw her?”
“I can’t even remember,” said Zoe. “I thought it was because you guys don’t like Dallas.”
“Gloria actually loves Hetero Norm,” said Val. “She thinks he’s sweet. Do not tell him that, I swear to god.”
They drove along the Flathead River now, the road tracing the bends in the water. There was a cliff rising only feet from the passenger side of the car. Off to the left, Zoe could just make out the black river. It reminded her of being in the boat with X, which reminded her of X’s father. She stole a look down at his picture.
“So we’re done talking about me?” said Val. “That’s all I get?”
“No,” said Zoe. “Sorry. I want to hear more. Please.”
The hail slowed, then seemed to disappear. Zoe hadn’t realized how much the noise had jangled her nerves. But the minute Val clicked off the windshield wipers, the storm started up again—fiercer this time. It was like someone was dropping nails from the cliff.
“The depression makes Gloria hate herself,” said Val. “She thinks she’s no good. You know how obsessed I am with her, right?”
“Dude,” said Zoe, “you made a Tumblr about her feet.”
“Right?” said Val. “And it’s got, like, a thousand followers! But she doesn’t believe I love her. She doesn’t see how I could.”
“X is like that sometimes,” said Zoe. “People have been telling him his whole life that he’s not worth anything. I want to hit them with a brick until they’re dead.”
“Aren’t they already dead?” said Val.
“Then more dead,” said Zoe.
“I texted Gloria twenty-two times last night,” said Val. “She didn’t answer once. She was too depressed.”
“You must have freaked,” said Zoe.
“Ya think?” said Val.
Headlights materialized in the distance, a pair of bright eyes coming toward them. Zoe winced, remembering Ronny the Unhinged Hunter. Val drove closer to the cliff to be safe.
“This morning, Gloria called and said she’d been curled in a ball on the floor all night,” Val said. “Slept in her clothes. Even her sneakers and her coat. I’ve seen her when she’s like that. I’ve had to pick her up off the floor. This morning, she goes, ‘If you need a different girlfriend, it’s okay. I wouldn’t want me either.’ ”
The oncoming car pulled over. Val fiddled with the wipers.
“If Gloria finds out I lied about where I am tonight, shit’s gonna blow up,” she said. “I can’t give her another reason to hate herself, or think I don’t love her.”
The driver got out of his car, and tried to wave them down.
“He wants us to stop,” said Zoe.
“No way,” said Val. “Right? I’m not stopping. Not in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. Not after that freak Ronny.”
“Okay,” said Zoe.
“What do you mean, ‘okay’?” said Val. “Should I stop or not?”
“You said you weren’t stopping! I’m just saying okay!”
The man was only an outline. He’d pulled his coat over his head to shield himself from the hail. As they got closer, he waved more urgently.
“I mean, anyone who’s out here right now is nuts—including us,” said Val.
Zoe could see her hands tighten on the wheel.
“Okay,” she said.
“Stop saying that!” said Val. “I mean, would you stop?”
Zoe groaned.
“Probably?” she said. “But I make bad choices!”
“You do make bad choices,” said Val. She nodded to herself. The white helmet jiggled on her head. She floored it past the other car. “I’m not stopping. No way. Sorry, creep.”
They shot past the man, feeling too guilty to even look at him.
“Are we assholes?” said Val.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” said Zoe.
Soon, the road forked, and the dark, rippled surface of Lake McDonald came into view. It was just past ten o’clock. The black sky was streaked with blue, like something had been scratching at it.
Zoe saw lights glinting through the trees down by the lake. Houses. Timothy Ward lived in one of them.
They were close.
As they wound around the lake, Zoe reread the article about X’s father. She liked him more every time she read the story. He was a wildlife biologist who studied and cared for the bear population in the park. It sounded as if it was the only job he’d ever had, or wanted, which Zoe found touching. She was also struck by the fact that he’d lived alone on a lake for many years. Solitude almost seemed to have been passed down from father to son.
Val hit the brake, and she and Zoe jerked forward in their seats. Val let out a string of profanity.
Startled, Zoe looked out the windshield.
There was something dead in the road.