“Are you stupid?”
Alex slapped Dawson. It stung Rick’s stubble shadowed cheek, burning his cold skin like she’d set it on fire.
“He's left for base camp, you idiot! And you stole his food supply!” She snatched the candy from him. His face became fixed and angry. He didn’t care where the old fool went. He had left them on the mountain to die. He raised his arms to protect his head from another furious barrage of slaps. Then Alex’s fist sank deep into his stomach. He sputtered chocolate on the snow in a crooked brown fan.
“Marshall went to get us rescue."
“Stop hitting me, dammit!” he shouted, sinking onto a rock which was black against the snow. Alex marchedt to the snow cave and sat. Rick's gaze followed her.
His every bone and muscle throbbed from Marshall’s fancy balloon crash. Let’s take a balloon to the peak! That would be exciting, he’d gushed during the one meeting Rick had attended. All the others had been exclusive. Just Marshall and Alex making all the plans, and sharing night caps by a fire, he assumed.
Night caps with Alex was a tantalizing idea, even without a fire. She had convinced him that archaeology was his life’s dream, after all. He’d only wanted to escape his stifling father for a few years. Dad’s plan was that Rick assume a vice-presidency in the company after he earned his business degree. Kramer Dawson possessed literal boat loads of money gleaned from a luxury line of European cruise ships. College in Alaska sounded remote enough to Rick, and he had hopped on the family jet.
At the registration desk, when Alex stole all of his attention, he’d changed his major on the spot. “Archaeology,” he declared, and fixed his schedule to mirror hers. He hadn’t told his parents yet.
After a couple of months Rick admitted his mistake to himself. Archaeology was a dry, sleepy subject. Professor Marshall yammered through long lectures, assigning far too many old, dusty books. He was a bore, but when Alex explained his teaching while they studied it all came to life for him. She made it possible to get his homework done, and he amazed himself with excellent grades. The only one better than himself was Alex.
For a year and a half he’d tried to make her notice him. All she saw was a study partner. Then she’d asked him to go on this expedition.
“It’ll be just the three of us,” she promised.
Rick was elated, at first. Then Marshall asked him on the sly for a “contribution” to the trip. Rick wrote a hefty check and found himself soaring over Europe in a balloon.
He looked over to Alex, who sat on the snow inside their little cave. Tears had frozen on her lovely face. Her heart will mend. Rick kept his hands to himself, not wanting to alarm her. When Marshall was dead... then she would let him comfort her. He smiled.
Alex Petersen, USA
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