Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)
Page 4
“Don’t worry,” Stella whispered back. “Teachers expect principal douchery.”
Jenny snorted a laugh and almost spewed coffee out her nose.
“It’s always great to see Imani, though,” said Mercury. “I’m so glad our combined love of weird science stuff brought us together.”
“Right?” Stella’s thick blonde and silver hair bounced around her face as she nodded. “I’ll never forget meeting her in that pottery and brickmaking workshop. How many years ago was it?”
“Four,” said Mercury. “Jenny, didn’t Imani also take that workshop on radio wave experiments with you this year?”
“Yep, and afterward we met y’all for margaritas at the bar. Remember?”
“I definitely recall the margaritas,” said Stella. “And that’s the night I met Dusty.” She waggled her brows.
Richard Hale’s watery blue eyes snapped up to the rearview mirror. “You know, this conference is for academic enhancement, not partying.”
“Yeah, we know. Together, over the past four days we attended”—Mercury paused as she counted—“six workshops, five curriculum and development meetings, a massive teacher roundtable, and we also had a great time. Women are wonderful multitaskers,” said Mercury. “At least that’s what you say every semester when you want us to take on extra duties for no extra pay, remember?”
“I definitely remember,” said Stella.
Jenny chimed in, “Me too.”
Coach Davis covered his laugh with a cough while Karen Gay pursed her lips and opened the Guideposts Magazine she always kept in her briefcase.
Hale grunted and flicked on the radio.
Stella used her coat as a pillow, propping it against Mercury’s shoulder. She drained her coffee cup, grinned sleepily at her friend, and said, “Night-night.”
“Night, nasty.” Mercury settled back with her Kindle. She scrolled through her library and tried to decide between something fae by Holly Black or something fae by Karen Marie Moening, but then ended up not reading either—the tall pines that filled the forest on both sides of Oregon’s highway 26 west kept pulling at her attention.
Oregon was so green—even in the snow. A born and raised Okie, Mercury was used to green fading to olive, then sage, and finally brown. This was her fourth trip to Timberline Lodge, and she was still amazed at seeing the multiple shades of green along with the snow. She looked forward to getting closer to Portland, where the snow would be replaced by ferns and thick, spongy-looking moss. As they drove, the verdant landscape worked like a white noise machine. Her eyelids grew heavy and had just begun to flutter closed when Amelia’s tentative voice broke the spell.
“Um, sorry, but I need to stop.”
Mr. Hale glanced at her. His lips pressed into tight disapproval.
Amelia shrugged and patted her basketball-sized belly. “He decided to quit kicking my ribs and is now jumping up and down on my bladder. Or at least that’s what it feels like.”
Hale’s voice was as tight as his lips. “We’ve only passed Government Camp a few minutes ago. We are not even twenty miles from the lodge.”
“I really can’t help it.” Amelia’s voice sounded small, and that pissed Mercury off.
Mercury leaned forward, which caused Stella to wake up and blink blearily. “Hey, she’s pregnant. Just stop and let her pee. Jesus.”
“I’m awake because Amelia has to pee?” Stella grumped.
“No, you’re awake because Mr. Hale is being a misogynist bully,” said Mercury as she caught the principal’s gaze in the rearview mirror. She shook her head at him like he was an errant student, and he quickly looked away.
“It’s just that there’s no rest stop near,” he muttered.
“I don’t need a rest stop,” Amelia blurted out as she patted her purse. “I brought toilet paper. I’m cool with peeing in the woods.”
Coach Davis stretched and said, “Hey, don’t I remember one of those scenic lookout places not far from here?”
“Yep,” said Stella around a yawn. “We stopped there two years ago on the way to the lodge.”
Mercury raised a brow at her friend. “Oh yeah, that’s where you puked, right?”
Stella shuddered. “Yes. It’s also the last time I ate prosciutto. Never. Again.”