Page 25 of Valley Girls
A half second too late, Rilla realized it was a prayer, and ducked her head.
After the blessing, everyone lined up, buffet style.
Rilla fell in line behind Petra, plate to her chest as she surveyed the food—most of which she’d never seen.
“This is Chapshoro,” Petra said with a confident accent on the word. She peeled back a portion of the folded flat bread, showing her the inside. “It’s chopped lamb and beef, onions, chili peppers, tomato and coriander. I don’t know if you like any of that.”
“Oh, it’s so good though,” Hico said, reaching around them to grab one. “I want to go climbing in Pakistan with Adeena again, just to be fuckingfed.”
“That was the only time I’ve seen a climber come home fatter ...” Caroline said, coming up to the back of the line.
“But the food! Don’t judge me!” Hico roared over a mouthful, in mock anger.
“Guys, my mom would have ten pounds on all of you in a week,” Adeena said.
“Hey, you made it back,” Petra said to Caroline, who had just joined the rear of the line.
“Barely,” Caroline said, picking a plate off the stack. “That was an ugly day.”
Rilla took some and moved to the next dish. Everyone in line, aside from Hico, waited patiently or offered up opinions on how to tell if she’d like the food. Rilla took it all, including chili sauce for the Mamtu—a type of dumpling—and followed Petra out onto the big deck. Everyone perched on steps or chairs or sat, legs folded and their plates on the redwood, diving in with fingers and forks.
For a moment, it was silent. The last of the pink sunshine slid into purple. Someone began a story about getting turned around during a climb and ending up in Italy when they were supposed to be in France, and trying to get a sheep herder to give them a ride back to the border. And as Rilla ate—swiping her dumplings through the chili sauce and savoring every bit of the spice and meat and dough—the dust turned into a purple haze, and the shadows gathered into something reminiscent of home.
If asked outright, Rilla wasn’t positive she’d have been able to tell anyone those countries bordered each other. When she got back to Thea’s, she was going to find her schoolbooks. If they were going to take her to magical houses in the woods, feed her, and tell her great stories, she would do anything to meet their expectations—even study.
In the lull between stories, Petra announced to everyone that in the near future, she and Rilla were going to climb something called Snake Dike,and Rilla was going to come back to the house as a real climber; while Adeena argued that Rilla should climb something shorter and more manageable for a first time.
Forgetting that climbing was probably theworstway to convince everyone she was cool, Rilla stuffed another dumpling in her mouth and nodded an emphatic agreement.
Eight
After being dropped off in the Camp 4 parking lot after dinner at the Grove, barely in time for curfew, Rilla hustled through the meadow grass, trying to make it home before Thea discovered she’d been out of the Valley. Her phone was quiet—but she couldn’t trust the spotty service. Across the meadow, dim amber light glowed from the kitchen window of Thea’s house, and muffled music drifted out into the dark. Rilla trudged through the grass and tiptoed up the porch, opening the door quietly to slide inside.
“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” Walker bellowed over the country music.
Rilla’s spine snapped straight.
“We were just talking about you,” Thea said. She and Walker were playing cards—empty dinner plates pushed to the side on the cluttered table.
Rilla stayed frozen in the doorway. “Um. What about?”
“I was telling him about the time you raced Frank down the Meadow River during that ice storm.”
“Oh.” Rilla narrowed her eyes, uncertain how Thea was swinging the story. It’d started out as a stupid bet with her cousin. They’d gone sliding down the frozen river until Frank hit a bad patch of ice and dropped through. The hole kept tearing at the edges and Rilla had raced back, without thinking. She’d kept sliding on her stomach around the ever-widening hole until they both were able to crawl to the bank. Thankfully.
“She said she couldn’t tell whether you were stupid or smart,” Walker said.
“And it’s still that way today.” Thea laughed, reaching to turn down the radio.
The food in Rilla’s stomach turned into stone. It was hard not to wonder how many other stories Thea told about Rilla’s life, without her ever knowing. Rilla’s face heated, but she kicked off her sandals and slid a finger under her eyes in case her makeup had run. “I’m obviously smarter than you,” she said, eyeing Thea’s hand meaningfully. She didn’t really know her cards, but Thea hadn’t ever been good at poker.
Walker laughed.
Thea slapped her cards facedown and frowned.
“What’s with the card game? I thought you two would be climbing?” Rilla said, trying not to sound nasty. This friendship between Walker and her sister bothered her—a jealousy, but the sibling kind, where it seemed her older sister left and found someone to replace her.
Thea groaned. “I’m too exhausted.”
