Chapter Sixteen

Port of Call: Juneau, Alaska

"We're going to miss the boat!"

"What?" Tanner asked.

A supernova of panic flared in me. "The on-board time. I didn't think about it because it stays light so late."

Understanding dawned on his face. "Let's go."

We took off running downhill.

I fumbled to call my mom as we ran. "We're coming, we're coming. I'm so sorry. Please don't let them leave."

"Savannah, slow down," she said. "Where are you?"

"Can't slow down. Can't talk. I'm coming."

I didn't bother trying to return the phone to my pocket, just clutched it tight as I raced down the trail, trying not to trip on a root or slip in the mud.

What would happen if we were too late? The ship wouldn't wait; they'd made that clear. Our guide earlier had said that Juneau was the only US capital you couldn't drive to. We'd have to take a boat or plane to get anywhere. But we were minors. Surely it was illegal to leave kids behind, right? We could sue the ship for child abandonment.

Even if lawsuits were an option later, I didn't want to be stranded in Alaska alone.

My feet raced along the path, too quickly given the steepness. I skidded on a wet area, grabbed for a branch or anything. Tanner reached for me, but not in time. I twisted. Rather than right myself, I fell face-first into the mud. Wet dirt slimed the side of my face.

"Whoa, you okay?" Tanner stopped.

"Fine." I grunted and spit out a disgusting mouthful.

"If you want a mud bath, try the spa. Today, we have a two-mile record to beat."

"This isn't funny, Tanner."

I scrambled to my feet, wiped my phone off on a clean patch of pants, and tried to use my sleeve to clean my face. Never mind. It would take too long. I spit once more and took off.

"We'll be okay," he said.

"Less talking, more running."

The trail deposited us in town, closer to the hills than the water. We sprinted down the street, heading toward the port where the ship waited, too far away. There weren't many people to dodge. Though it was light, the town was emptier.

Sure, because everyone from the cruise ship was safely aboard, waiting for the captain to keep the schedule. My legs burned from the hill, and I focused on breathing.

Tanner glanced at me. He was panting. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Okay to keep running, anyway. In all other ways, I was far from okay. I was fearing what might happen, I was sick with guilt, and I was annoyed with him.

"Sure you can keep up?" he asked.

I knew what he was doing, challenging me to push me on. And I knew this wasn't his fault. But old habits had me wanting to blame him, as if the familiar sensation of being annoyed at Tanner Woods offered a life raft in the sea of worry. He'd been the one who'd wanted to stay in town, the one to suggest the hike, when the tram would have gotten us down the hill an hourago.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." The words burst out before I could consider them.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's always my fault." His words huffed out.

Somehow his lack of arguing made me feel ill. More ill, since I was already close to puking. But I didn't reassure him.

We rounded a corner, and the ship was ahead. In port, not sailing away. We wouldn't have to swim and hope someone threw us a rope. We raced past workers at the terminal and onto the wooden dock, our steps thudding, then ran alongside the massive ship. Clapping and cheers came from above.

People were watching from their balconies, probably judging us, worried two teenagers were going to screw up their trip. Our pictures would be added to the wall of cruise ship offenders, or we'd be featured on the morning show again, this time asking people to keep an eye on us to make sure we got back. Bird Girl and Bird Boy were not to be trusted.

Our parents were standing at the base of the metal ramp, along with two employees in cruise ship polo shirts.

I checked the time. Fifteen minutes late.

We stumbled onboard, scanned our cards, and I slumped onto a nearby bench to catch my breath. My lungs were on fire. My legs were trembling. The Goldfish I'd eaten were threatening to swim out of my stomach. And the drying dirt on my face itched, but my shoes had already gotten enough mud on the carpet, so I didn't scrape it off.

"Savannah, what happened? Where were you? You aren't hurt?" My mom ran a gentle hand along the non-muddy part of my face.

I shook my head.

Tanner bent over nearby with his hands on his knees, chest heaving.

"I'm sure it was Tanner," Mr. Woods said to her. "Usually Savannah is so trustworthy."

I winced as I continued to focus on sucking in oxygen. My chest burned. "Lost track of time."

"That's unlike you," Mom said.

"It was all me," Tanner said. "I stole her phone and her watch and made her hike off in search of reindeer."

Mrs. Woods crossed her arms. "Once you're recovered, I expect a better explanation than that."

Mr. Woods was shaking his head. "I should have expected something like this. When will you learn to be more careful? And dragging Savannah into it."

Technically he hadn't dragged me, but my chest burned and my throat was tight and even though my heart hammered at me to say something, to stand up for him, I didn't speak.

My dad put his arm around me. "What matters is you're okay and you made it. We were worried."

I leaned my head against his shoulder before jerking it away so I didn't dirty his shirt. "I'm sorry." I turned to the employees who were closing up the security area. "Really, really sorry. Thank you for not leaving us."

The nearest man gave me a kind smile. "The onboard time is an hour before we leave the dock, so the captain does have a little leeway. But please be more careful. We can't always guarantee the ship will wait."

I ducked my head and nodded.

Tanner was uncharacteristically silent. Where was his usual charm, making people forget he'd ever caused trouble? He definitely was avoiding me.

I didn't blame him. I mean, I had blamed him. For this. Which is why I didn't blame him now for being mad at me, because that had been terrible of me.

I still didn't know what to say as our parents shuffled us upstairs to our rooms. Despite the light lingering in the sky, it was late, but I was too wound up to sleep. My heart hadn't stopped racing. After showering the mud off, I went to the balcony as the ship sailed away and watched the silver sunset over dark mountains and inky water. I remained alert for the sound of Tanner emerging onto his balcony next to mine.

My stomach churned. Guilt ate at me, not just for being late, but for getting mad at him, when it had been equally my fault. It was habit to pit us on opposite sides, to assume if something went wrong in my life, it could be traced to him. But we'd been on the same team today. He hadn't forced me into anything.

Then I'd let his parents blame him, when I could have stood up for him.

An invisible fist was squeezing my lungs. I felt slimier than a mud puddle, and I wouldn't blame Tanner in the least if he decided we were done.

Turned out panic, guilt, and body surfing in a mud puddle did not make for a good night's sleep.

I'd waited until the sky was dark and I was shivering and there was nothing to see but blackness, but Tanner had never come out, so I'd eventually given up and gone to bed.

Now, we walked into the town of Skagway, which was nestled in a gap where mountains met the sea. It looked like a hidden frontier town. Our families were taking a train ride into the Yukon Territory.

Tanner was quiet, trudging between his parents.

I owed him an apology.

It was going to be awkward.

At a historical train depot, two green-and-yellow engine cars were followed by a string of old-fashioned ones with red roofs and dark panels. We boarded the caboose that Mr. Ramirez had reserved for employees, along with him, his wife, and several other coworkers and their families.

The interior was classic to match the outside, with wood paneling on the walls and large windows. My parents and I sat at one table—with me at the window and Mom on the aisle. I was surprised she hadn't invited herself to her boss's table, but maybe she wanted to keep me close, make sure I couldn't get out, as if I might jump off the moving train, get lost, and once again nearly miss the boat.

Tanner and his parents were across from us, and he looked as tired as I felt. I hoped he hadn't been up late getting yelled at, otherwise my apology was going to have to be even grander.

The train emitted a loud whistle, and we were off, slowly easing away from the station and town before picking up speed.

The tracks led along a silvery river. The hillsides were covered in shades of green, and clouds hid the tops of the mountains. We rose steadily, winding through the hills. When the train went around a corner, through the window I saw the front part of the train ahead of us, curving with the track. Sometimes the track ran along the edge of a cliff and a whole valley spread beneath us. I'd never seen so many trees in my life.

We sat and watched the view, lulled by the rocking and the clacking. A docent was supposed to give a talk about the railroad and the area, but we were free to move around and go onto the platform.

"I'm going to check out the outside," I said.

"Be careful," Mom said.

It wasn't like I could get separated from the train and be late.

The back door led to a small platform. Since we were in the caboose, there was nothing behind us but the even tracks, stretching into the distance and disappearing around the last curve. A flimsy gate and metal rail enclosed the small space, rattling slightly along with the sound of the wheels. Cool wind rushed around me.

The fresh air somehow made the views more impressive, the speed faster, and the nature more all-encompassing. I liked the row of railroad tracks, a solitary sign that humans had conquered a tiny part of this wilderness. People had come before me and succeeded and returned, which was a good sign I wouldn't end up trapped here forever.

The door cracked, and Tanner peered out. He joined me, standing as far away as the platform allowed, which wasn't far. He had to have known I was out there, which meant he wasn't avoiding me forever. That made me happier than it should have.

We stood in silence, except for the clacking, as we rattled past a deep valley with a rushing river at the bottom. What was he thinking? Why wasn't he talking?

My stomach turned over. We were alone. Nothing to do. Trapped. I had no excuse.

"Hey," I said.

He raised an eyebrow.

Ugh. Why did I have to find words for this? I should have prepared something to say. Or texted him while we were walking through town. Except text apologies were nearly as high on the jerk scale as parking lot breakups.

"I, uh." I peeked at him then the mountains then him again. I gripped the metal rail as we went around a curve. "I need to say I'm sorry. For yesterday."

He stared at me, not making this easy. His eyes were the same stormy gray as the clouds.

I swallowed. "I shouldn't have blamed you for making us late. It was both our fault."

"It was."

He wasn't giving me much. I forged on. "So, I'm sorry for blaming you. And for letting our parents blame you, too."

He held my gaze. And nodded. "Thanks."

I released my breath.

His lips quirked. "Is this the first time you've ever apologized to me?"

"Quite possibly."

"I might need a minute to recover." His focus shifted to the view, and he huffed what sounded like a laugh.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "It's just, I thought that was what I always wanted."

"An apology from me? Almost missing a boat and getting stranded in Alaska? Watching me face-plant in a mud puddle?"

He shifted to face me. The wind was cool, and the tracks rattled beneath us as the train hurtled on up the mountainside. His face was solemn.

"You to get in trouble," he said, and his voice was rough.

"Excuse me?"

"Not, like, really in trouble." He ran a hand through his hair. "All I ever hear about is how smart you are, how responsible, how hardworking. How you passed the driver's test on your first try and will get into colleges without a sports scholarship. My parents are always saying they wish I was more like you. They think you're this perfectly behaved angel who never does anything wrong."

"Not after yesterday, they don't." My tone was wry.

"I always thought, if the two of us were having fun together, my parents would see it as kids being kids. Like your participation would legitimize what I was doing. Show them it wasn't all that bad. And sometimes I hoped if we both got in trouble, they would see you were human and stop comparing us. When I say it out loud, it sounds awful."

It kind of made sense. There had been many times I'd assumed he'd been trying to annoy or embarrass me, when I'd thought he was childish or ridiculous and wondered why he wouldn't leave me alone. No, I didn't want to jump off a cliff into the ocean or eat twenty Otter Pops at a time or race shopping carts in the store.

But he'd never tried to get me to do anything illegal. Or horribly dangerous. Or that would hurt anyone. My mind had seen it that way because I never wanted to risk anything at all. Now, I looked back and saw a wild boy being a kid, wanting to have fun, not some evil attempt to lead me into a life of crime.

He shifted closer, so I had to crane my neck to see him. "Like I said, it wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped. I just felt bad, because you were right; it was my idea to hike. So I'm sorry, too, for yesterday, and for all of it."

"Oh. Thanks, I guess. Wait, now it's my turn to record this moment to prove that Tanner Woods is capable of apologizing."

His crooked half smirk and piercing eyes melted my insides.

"I always figured you were either trying to annoy me, or you thought I was boring and needed to have fun."

"I never thought you were boring. I wanted you to have fun, and I found those things fun. I wanted company, and you were there, so I thought you'd enjoy them, too."

"If it makes you feel better, my mom wishes I were more like you, with an actual social life. She always wanted to have that house where kids were coming and going all the time, where friends randomly stayed for dinner, or stopped by unannounced."

"She might not feel that way if she had to feed half the football team. My mom says once I have a job, I have to reimburse her for years of groceries. I'm ninety percent sure she's joking."

We stopped talking as the train plunged into a tunnel and blackness enveloped us. When we emerged, I blinked at the brightness. We left the tunnel behind, and I watched the black hole in the side of the hill get smaller and smaller.

"Is that why we hated each other for all these years?" I asked. "Because our parents liked the other too much?"

Tanner's head whipped toward me. "You hated me?"

"Um. Maybe?" It sounded mean to say now, especially with how he asked the question, like he was genuinely surprised. "You were always mad at me for getting you in trouble, and you admitted you didn't like being compared. You didn't hate me?"

"I was annoyed by you. You did get me in trouble a lot. It was fun to challenge you. But I never hated you." His eyes were intense, serious, locked onto me.

Huh. A ball of light inside me was expanding slowly to fill me with warmth and something fizzy. "I'm sorry. For those times I ratted you out. It wasn't cool of me."

"I would have been caught, anyway, and I was kind of asking for it."

We were silent, and I had to look away, watching the trees whip past instead of him and whatever weird reaction he was setting off inside me.

"Are we good now?" he asked. "Do you still hate me? I hope not, because we're stuck together for another week, and I'm not spending it with Dottie or Mr. Ramirez, nice as they are."

"I suppose I can tolerate you a little longer."

"I'm glad."

The look he gave me made the explosion in my chest worse.

I cleared my throat. "We should go inside. I want to hear the talk."

"What happens on the train caboose stays in the caboose?"

"That sounds wrong."

He laughed and opened the door, pausing long enough that I had the option to go first or to let him.

I felt like I was tumbling down one of those cliffs. Was it possible that years of hatred had been misunderstandings? Just two kids with different personalities and naturally competitive natures who didn't understand each other?

Mind. Blown.