The bus was nothing more than a blur in her vision. It stood at the end of the curb of the parking lot at the west side of the campus, waiting for the rest of the students who had signed up for the trip to board. While several had already seated themselves, the lone chaperone waited by the entrance for the remaining few who had overslept and were running late.
Nevada Ruiz wavered several feet away, a lump lodged in her throat. A sharp breeze rustled her dark hair across her face, the harsh air biting at her exposed skin. Her mother had warned her numerous times to wear gloves, but for some unknown reason, she never did. It could be that it was a pain to use her phone when the touch screen didn't pick up on her taps through the material; it was more likely that Nevada was too stubborn to admit that her mother had a point.
Her chest felt tight. The sensation hadn't disappeared for the past couple of weeks. Between the stress of finals and the anticipation for the trip, her body hadn't given her a break. It refused to let her forget about her impulsive decision. When she had first received the notification for the school-sponsored trip to the ski lodge a state away, her initial intent had been to disregard it. After all, one usually planned a trip with friends, and there was a severe lack of those in Nevada's life.
But all it had taken to change her mind was a terrible evening spent scrolling through social media. Her feed was cluttered with her former high school classmates posting collages celebrating the end of their semesters with their new friends, and her heart ached at the sight.
Even after four months at Briarcliff University, Nevada had struggled to introduce herself or manage more than four words during her classes. The only two people who knew her by name was her roommate – who she had never hung with outside their dorm room – and the dining hall employee who signed her in every morning. While everyone had described college as an unforgettable experience, the most Nevada had gotten out of it was ordering a pizza for herself at midnight during a late night studying session.
She couldn't help it. She had tried multiple times to take the first step. She had rehearsed her introductions to people – had prepared questions to ask, but her courage disappeared whenever the moment presented itself. If a teacher's stare lingered on her for too long, Nevada averted her gaze. If there were people in the dorm halls, she kept her head down until she made it inside her room. If anyone did attempt to engage in conversation with her, they lost interest when it became clear that her replies were blunt and one-worded.
As the days passed, she watched her chance to fall into a group vanish. People stuck together as the weeks went on, cementing their circle of friends into an impenetrable circle. Nevada had expected it, but it still hurt when she saw groups of people huddled in the dining hall together while she ate alone.
Her older sister, Natalie, had assured her that it would get better. But Nevada had stopped believing her. Natalie was a social butterfly who had people gravitating towards her at every turn; as a talented athlete and Honor Roll student, there was no reason not to love her. She was the golden child, the one who never failed. Nevada was lackluster in comparison.
Nevada kicked at the concrete to avoid making eye contact with Ms. Simmons. The chaperone for the trip continued scanning the parking lot for the late student, and as if on cue, two young men rushed in her direction, hauling hefty duffels over their shoulders.
Part of her wished she was like them. She wished that the reason she had yet to sign in and hop aboard the bus was that she had overslept. The truth was that she had spent the better part of the morning pacing her dorm room, her mind working itself into a frenzy as she debated whether or not to miss it. Natalie was a phone call away, and she knew that she would be there to pick her up as soon as she could if Nevada said the words.
Her phone had taunted her. All she had to do was find her sister's contact and admit that she had overestimated her own abilities: the impromptu trip pushed her too far, and she had no choice but to give up. Her parents would greet her with tight smiles, and Nevada would see once again that she had disappointed them. They would arrange another meeting with her therapist before brushing the whole thing beneath the rug. It was only another failure to add to her never-ending list.
Nevada couldn't do it. While it had pained her, she had brushed her teeth and slipped on warm layers to prevent the chilled air from seeping into her skin. She had gathered her hair into a knit cap, sent a quick text message to her parents, and dragged her duffel that had been prepared a full week in advance towards the lot. But as she faced the bus that would take her to a remote ski lodge for the next week and a half, a large part of her wished that she had given in to the voices in her head.
Her heels dragged against the concrete as she began to turn on the spot – until Ms. Simmons glanced up from her clipboard and made direct eye contact with her. Her chest stuttered. No turning back, she thought, steeling herself as she strode over the sidewalk to where the bus stood idle.
The two boys still hovered around Ms. Simmons as she neared. The shorter of the two was around her height, his warm brown skin and angled eyes indicating that he was of Filipino descent, his mouth moving swiftly as he explained the reason for their tardiness. The other was his polar opposite, towering over the rest of them. He had to be at least six feet tall – if not more – but Nevada didn't get the chance to glimpse his face before Ms. Simmons let out an aggravated huff.
"You two are already causing me trouble, and we haven't even left yet." She waved them forward. "Just get on."
After the two were herded on, Ms. Simmons redirected her attention towards Nevada. She felt herself wither beneath her stare before she murmured, "Hello, Ms. Simmons."
Her attitude had done a complete one-eighty: with a flash of a pearly white smile, Ms. Simmons leaned closer as her eyes scanned over the checklist stuck on her clipboard listing all of the students' names. "Name, please?"
"Nevada Ruiz."
When she honed in on Nevada's name, she added a checkmark beside it, marking her off as the last person to arrive. That meant everyone's stares would fall on her as soon as she stepped aboard. The thought sent a trickle of unease down her spine, but there wasn't a chance to dwell on it before Ms. Simmons herded her forward.
"Hello, Nevada," she said, her voice chipper. "What a lovely name. Feel free to call me Helen."
Nevada gave her a slow nod, her lip quirking upward before she turned to face the beady eyes of the students who had been waiting for the bus to move. Averting her gaze, her chest seized as her grip tightened on her duffel. Her breathing grew heavy as she bent to heave her luggage onto the overhead compartment. Her muscles strained – and the realization that she couldn't lift it by herself slammed into her.
Her face began to crumble – until another hand grasped onto the handle of her duffel. The boy from before raised it over their heads with ease, heaving it onto the rack with the other luggage. He flashed her an easy smile, the dimples poking out on either cheek. Her insides felt as though they were melting. He had dimples. She had a soft spot for dimples.
Nevada had caught the glimpse of his profile that she had previously missed. Light blonde hair streaked with gel stood straight on his head, his blue eyes meeting hers as he tilted his head down to make eye contact with her. Stringy and lanky, he had the build of a swimmer, towering over her with no effort at all.
Her mouth opened to stutter a thank you, but before she could force out the words, Helen rested her hand on her shoulder, urging her to take a seat. The only one that remained was at the front in the same row as the two boys; the other had already taken refuge at the window, his headphones dangling as he scrolled through his phone. The boy that had helped her plopped down beside his friend, his long legs barely fitting in the confined space between the seat in front. There was an aisle separating them, but even that felt like too short a distance to avoid an awkward conversation.
Thankfully, Helen spoke up before the incessant chatter from the back of the vehicle could overpower her. "Okay," she started with a clap of her hands. "Now that everyone is here, we can head off. Just a reminder that there will only be one bathroom break on the way there, so if there is any one who desperately needs to go, now is the time." She was met with silence, bringing an involuntary smile to her face. "Great!"
As soon as she had taken a seat, the driver closed the entrance to the bus. It started with a rumble, spurred on by the cheers of the other students, and they pulled away from the curb as they began the long journey. The ski lodge was located in Vermont, at least three hours away, and Nevada mentally prepared herself for the trip.
Untangling her headphones, she plugged them into her phone, a playlist queued up on the screen. Within seconds, the music flooded her ears, drowning out the background noise surrounding her. Her gaze flickered to the window as she made herself comfortable. She was fortunate to have an entire seat to herself, and her legs stretched out to take advantage of the opportunity. The campus buildings whizzed past as the driver took the fastest route out of the maze that was Briarcliff University, the bus gaining speed once the sign that welcomed visitors to their acclaimed college flashed in the distance.
It had been effortless to lose herself in the endless playlists that cluttered her Spotify. Within minutes, she had zoned out completely, her head resting against the back of her seat, her eyelids fluttered shut. A whole hour passed before she was roused from her reverie. Helen had appeared in her peripheral vision, tapping her finger in her line of sight to catch her attention.
Nevada tugged her headphones out of her ears as she sat straight.
"Nevada? Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to run some things by you."
Her lips pursed. She had gone through every email and notification sent to her by the head of student activities in preparation for the trip twice, ensuring that she had memorized every piece of crucial information. She couldn't guess what she had missed.
"Sure," she answered, wrapping her headphones around her palm.
To her surprise, Helen stepped back to direct her attention towards the entire front row, including the two boys that had arrived mere seconds before her. The first was fast asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth as his head rested against the window. But the second was wide awake, and he straightened when he noticed that Helen's gaze had fallen on him.
"As it turns out, there isn't enough rooms for everyone to stay in the lodge," Helen said. "At least five students have to stay by themselves in one of the nearby cabins. I was hoping you three and two others wouldn't mind being separated from the rest of the group."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"Um, we wouldn't mind," the young man said. He nudged his friend with his elbow, but the latter resembled a lifeless corpse, barely twitching at the contact. He faced Helen once again. "It's fine with us."
"Great," Helen responded.
It took Nevada a second to realize that her focus had fallen on her. While the boy had helped her with her luggage, one encounter wasn't enough to entice her into sharing a cabin with him and his friend. But Helen had an expectant look plastered on her face, and all she could manage was a shaky nod.
"Thank you both so much, you two," Helen said, squeezing both of their shoulders in turn. "You have made my life a million times easier. Now I just need to find another pair, and then I have a complete set!" She glanced between them. "Have you two met?"
He extended his hand toward her, and her movements were robotic as she clasped his fingers around his warm palm.
"Nevada, this is Samuel Atwood," Helen said, taking over their introductions. "Samuel, this is Nevada Ruiz. If I were you, I would exchange phone numbers and social media information – if you kids still use Facebook and that lot. You are going to be stuck together for the next week and a half."
Before either could respond, Helen vanished down the aisle, resembling a hurricane in the way she had knocked into them before breezing past. Nevada tilted her head upward, meeting his warm gaze. Now that there was a name to place to the face, a hurdle had been overcome. She could only hope that he was as welcoming as his smile indicated.
"Hi, Nevada," Sam said. He swung his legs into the aisle, his knees nearly knocking into hers. "Sorry if Ms. Simmons put you in an uncomfortable position back there."
"Hi," she said, her voice low. It took an extreme amount of effort to not look away when his stare was so intense. "Um, thanks – for helping me with my bag earlier."
"Oh." His eyes widened ever so slightly – as if her gratitude was uncalled for. "That was nothing. Don't worry about it. Uh ... did you want to exchange numbers?"
"Oh. Yeah." After unlocking her phone, she handed it over to him so that he could add himself as a contact. She doubted she would ever use it, but it would be reassuring to have in the case of an emergency.
He gave her his in turn, and Nevada plugged her number in within a few seconds. When her head jerked up, she was shocked to find Sam still fiddling with her cell. His fingers flew across the keyboard, indicating that he was a fast typist, and she wondered what was taking him so long.
Sam returned her phone after a few awkward seconds with a cheeky grin, and it didn't take her long to discover what he had done. He had indeed followed Helen's advice: he had added himself on every social media platform she had – including her Snapchat.
"I added Carter's number too," Sam added when she didn't respond immediately. He indicated his thumb towards the boy sharing his seat. "Just in case."
Nevada nodded. A new notification made her phone buzz, and a huff of laughter escaped her when Sam's Snapchat username slid over the top of her screen. He had sent her a sneaky photo of her while she had been investigating.
"We're starting a streak," he joked, though she guessed there was a level of seriousness to his statement. "Don't bail on me now."
Thankfully, he let her return to her music, and Nevada wasted no time in resuming the playlist she had stormed through. But it was nearly impossible to focus on the lyrics.
The bus pulled up in front of the lodge only a half hour later than expected. Being at the front had its advantages, and Nevada was the first to step onto solid ground, her legs cramping after spending the past few hours crammed into a tight seat. She felt a pang of sympathy for those like Sam, whose legs barely fit in the space between him and the seat in front, or those who had been forced to share.
The only interruption she had for the rest of the journey was Helen again. She had tapped on her shoulder to let her know that two girls had volunteered to share the cabin with her, Sam, and Carter. Within a few minutes, five new numbers had been added to her phone. The realistic part of her knew she wouldn't work up the courage to use their contact information – unless there was an emergency – but it was a small relief to know they were a quick phone call away.
Once the bus had been emptied, a crowd of restless students now huddled together on the sidewalk, Helen regained everyone's attention. "I know that you all must be exhausted, so please, head inside to sign in and receive your room assignments."
Individual groups split apart from the crowd, laughing as they jogged up the stairs to enter the lodge. Through the window, Nevada could see the fire burning with life in the lobby, other guests filtering past as they settled on the couches to talk amongst themselves or grab a hot chocolate from the Keurigs. She yearned to follow them in – if only to feel the warm air on her skin for a brief moment.
Nevada looked around as she registered who had stayed behind: her cabin mates. Carter had been drawn out of his slumber, his bleary eyes blinking every few seconds as he scanned his surroundings. Sam hovered at his side, rubbing his palms together in an attempt to conserve the warmth that had come from the bus. The last two occupants of their wayward cabin were two girls, possibly freshmen just like her.
The first of the two was in the process of gathering her curly ringlets into a tight ponytail at the crown of her head. It was likely that she was of mixed heritage, but the feature that captivated Nevada the most was her unwavering bright grin – something she struggled to pull off when it felt like her insides were coated in ice. Her name was Alicia Santos, according to Helen.
Nevada's gaze flickered over to the second of the pair: Cassidy Scott. Standing several inches shorter than Alicia, her height didn't make the girl look less intimidating. With the combination of her pursed lips and narrowed eyes, Nevada wondered if she had made a mistake in choosing to agree to sleep in a separate cabin. Alicia and Cassidy looked like polar opposites, one bright and bubbly while the second was cold and unwelcoming.
"Alright, you five," Helen said, marching over to them. "You should probably find your cabin and settle in. You know that there isn't a real itinerary for this trip, but feel free to contact me regardless if you have any questions or concerns. You all know the rules." She took the opportunity to meet each gaze, but there was no doubt in Nevada's mind that at least one rule would be broken – especially if there was a certain lack of supervision. "Follow this path down, and within a few minutes, you should stumble upon Cabin 12. That's all yours."
"Thank you, Helen," Alicia said. "We'll let you know if we have any questions."
The air of professionalism caught Nevada off guard, though part of her was glad someone had taken control of the situation. She was a follower to her very center; she was content to listen to what others wanted. It relieved her from that pressure.
Alicia took the lead, Cassidy bumping into her side as she walked. Carter sauntered after them, hauling his luggage over his shoulder as he dragged his feet through the snow that still lingered over the earth. Sam started after them, though he glanced back once to make sure Nevada was following.
Dread filled the pit of her stomach. There was no telling how this trip would go. Just breathe, she thought, and she released a shaky breath.
and here is the first chapter of my new novel! i know that this update is very late, but i had forgotten how hard it is to start a new work. no matter how many novels you write, the first few chapters will feel like chipping at a block of ice with a fork. i'm also very unused to nevada's voice aha. she's very different from both sachi and scarlett (and very similar to who i am in real life), and it is difficult to adjust to her perspective. still, i am very excited to write this story, and i hope you are too!
even though nevada is different from my past mfcs, i hope that it doesn't affect how you see her. she will talk about her experiences with anxiety more as the story goes on, and i am trying to write it in a way that feels natural and realistic. her experiences are actually loosely based on mine, but i do realize that not everyone's anxiety is the same, so i am trying to write nevada's story as true to her as i can make it. after all, we can't all be as outgoing as scarlett. many of us are nevadas. (-:
let me know what you all thought of this chapter! what do you think of nevada so far? what about sam? who are you most excited to be introduced to?
x carolina