Chapter 18: Into the Mountains

Calvin calmly watched Alexander throw the last of the bags into the van. The young man did not look excited or eager.

But Calvin was excited, in a way. He predicted fun times for all, fantastic vistas in Northern Wyoming, warm nights by the fireplace, and cold winds blowing outside.

He watched Alexander close the back doors to the van, and put his arm around Miranda as he guided her into the car. Calvin frowned. This was something he had not predicted.

Then again, Calvin was well aware that his predictions with people were often laughably wrong. For example, he had predicted that Alexandria would have tried to establish a more intimate relationship with him; but she hadn't. He was very grateful for this. He found a friendship hard enough to maintain; he could not imagine how hard a relationship would be.

He got into the car, in the passenger seat. Alexandria sat next to him, getting ready to drive. Only she and Alexander knew where the place was, and Alexander was sitting with Miranda. Anyone could have followed the GPS surface on the dashboard, but it looked like Alexandria took a lot of pleasure in driving down the great Wyoming plains, up the twisting canyon roads, and into the mountains. It made sense.

Through the rear view mirror, Calvin looked at the couple in the back of the van. He didn't understand either of them. And from talking with Alexandria, neither did she. It worried her; it puzzled him.

Relationships should be a mutually beneficial arrangement-- assuming there wasn't extreme charity on the part of one of the members. What did Miranda gain from her relationship? From what he heard from Alexandria, Alexander was lonely, lazy, and not himself. Did Miranda enjoy taking care of him? Calvin couldn't imagine that.

Alexandria started the car, and they drove off. In less than a half hour, they left the apartment buildings, the campus buildings, the brewery, everything behind. The tiny corner of civilization that had grown up on the airy Wyoming plains grew smaller and smaller in their mirrors.

She took a deep breath, and looked over at her friend. Calvin was staring off through the dashboard, brow furrowed in thought. She continued to drive.

This was one of the first times in her life she truly felt like a coward. Everyone in their group had paired up, as thoroughly as she had predicted back in Theresa's dinner party.

After a certain amount of consideration, she had decided not to invite Theresa and Adrian. It had been a difficult decision, but she didn't like Adrian one bit. Upon reflection, she realized that part of it could be getting back at Theresa for drifting out of her life to spend more time with Adrian. That wasn't how she had rationalized to to herself, when she made her decision, but driving, now, she knew that was the reason.

Everyone in her life seemed to be drifting away. Her parents were increasingly focused on their work, Alexander was becoming a wreck, and her best friend was spending time with a guy that was Alexandria was just not comfortable with. And she had yet to try to initiate a closer relationship with Calvin.

Part of her had wanted to be more... present to Calvin, and she had wanted this for a while at that, but the greater part of her realized that it would be a bad idea. Calvin was too thoughtful, too inactive, too cold to act well in a relationship. She knew that intellectually, but feeling it was another matter.

On the other hand, there was nothing better than Jackson Lake if she wanted to feel like herself, and get herself grounded again. There was a confidence and joy that she took from hiking in the mountains, from running around the lake, from climbing on the rocks and cliffs surrounding the cabin. It would be just what she needed, even if the besotted infants in the back tried to ruin her week. She just hoped she could keep from being too lonely.

Alexander stared forward, trying not to move. His arm was around Miranda, and she had laid her head on his shoulders. She was sleeping quietly, and Alexander was glad for it.

Things had gotten a little out of control. Miranda had been spending more and more time with him, and he lacked any conviction to tell her to stop. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate her company. But for some reason whenever they spent time together, he felt more lonely, not less.

Part of it was that Miranda seemed determined to cheer him up every time they saw each other. She would cook him dinner, or bring him odd little gifts, or do small things. She would make him lunch on certain days, which always had some friendly note inside.

As far as Alexander could tell, Miranda's story had been completely set. They were in love, and it was Miranda's task to 'fix' him, as if it were her duty, or whatever. As if he was broken at all. As if he could be fixed.

However, despite whatever he felt, he had done is best to act interested and engaged. It was the least he could do. Everyone told a story about themselves in their head. With certain people, it was all they had. Even if it was a delusion. Especially if it was a delusion. The least he could do was play along, for her happiness.

He leaned his head wearily back on the car seat. This wasn't at all what he had pictured in a relationship when he had thought about it last year, or even in high school. It certainly wasn't like any of the stories that he had read. His life felt so jumbled.

Usually whenever he went to the mountains, things had gotten simpler. The different aspects and complications of his school life fell away, leaving the essentials of life alone. The time he spent with his sister was a time to think, a time to reflect, a time to plan and relax. With this crowd, Alexander doubted he would have any time to himself. Whose idea was it to bring all these people anyway?

Miranda's eyes were closed, but she wasn't sleeping.

It was a useful trick, on occasion. Whenever she faked sleeping in this fashion, it gave her a lot of time to think. When she did this in high school, it also helped her listen to the conversations of her friends in the car-- ones that were often about her-- that she wouldn't have otherwise heard. But on this trip, no one was talking. Hopefully that would change, but until then, she was content to rest.

Alexander's mood still hadn't improved, as far as she could tell. She had done everything she could think of. Every little romantic gesture that her mother showed her father, back when they were still together, had failed. She supposed it wasn't that surprising; her dad had left despite all her mother's efforts. Why should it be different for Al?

She was getting desperate. And upset. It was unkind of Alexandria to say those things to her during their coffee date. Unkind and untrue. Alexandria had said that she didn't love Al at all. Was Alexandria completely oblivious to every little thing that she had done for her brother? She supposed that Al didn't talk about it, much, especially if what Alexandria said about how he had become more distant at home was true. So that made sense.

But, on the other hand, it was clear that Alexandria had been firing from the hip. She hadn't done a bit of inquiring into their relationship; she had been making snap judgments. It betrayed a certain immaturity, Miranda thought.

Another instance of immaturity and lack of research was Alexandria's opinion on the brews. It was clear to anyone with a small amount of knowledge of the brain that Alexander was depressed. That meant that he wasn't getting the chemicals he needed in the brain, and the brews supplied those chemicals. It was so simple a solution that it was practically mathematical.

And despite all her love and care, Alexander was not improving. She intended to bring up the brews at a certain point on this trip; hopefully when Alexandria was out on a hike or something. It was the last idea she had.

The car wound its way into the canyon, and up into the mountains. The sun, already lowering in the sky, was soon hidden behind the cliffs and ridges that the road curved around. As Alexandria drove the car around corners, sharp and near edges of rock would come suddenly into the view of the headlights, before disappearing into their rear view mirror. But she did not slow down.

As they got higher and higher, the amount of snow increased. The twins' Christmas had been pathetic, in more ways than one. Their mother had spent most of Christmas Eve fretting about the kitchen, trying to get some sort of a meal ready for the next day. She really wasn't much of a cook, but at least she was doing her best. Their father had read, quietly, on the couch in front of the Christmas Tree. He didn't seem particularly happy to have the twins home, but not sad either. Apathetic, Alexandria supposed he was. Alexander spent most of the time in his room.

As if to mirror the dullness and inactivity of the day, the ground outside was brown and icky. 'White Christmas' and other sentimental songs, which were old even in the twins' parents day, played during their work, but the jolly lyrics and the picturesque descriptions in the song did not match the view outside or the attitude inside. At the end of all of it, Alexandria was glad to finally get out of the house and leave for the mountains, caked with snow. Even if it came a little late, she was determined to have a happy Christmas.

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