The Simple Wild: A Novel(59)

“Don’t get your hopes up, Wren. I doubt she’s ever read a comic book,” Jonah butts in, and I can sense that condescending smirk from beneath his bushy face without being able to see it.

This is one time he won’t get the better of me. I stroll past the smug bastard and stop in front of a white plane with a navy-blue nose and a row of portal windows on either side. “So this is Jughead, then?” I steal a glance at Jonah to see the surprise in his icy blue eyes. A wave of triumph rushes over me, and I let my own smug smile blossom over my face.

There’s no way in hell I’m admitting that not only is Jonah right and I’ve never so much as held any comic book—because they’re pointless and I’m not a seven-year-old boy—but I wouldn’t be able to name a single Archie comic character including the namesake, had it not been for Netflix.

The point is, I’ve proven Jonah wrong and I’m feeling way too much satisfaction over something so petty.

My dad wanders over to smooth his hand over Jughead’s blue nose. “He’s our school sports team workhorse. He does a lot of back-and-forth between the villages through the year, shuttling the kids to their games.”

“Students fly to all their games?”

“You should see the school travel budgets.” A knowing smile crinkles his eyes. “It’s a very different way of life up here.”

“Speaking of budgets . . . James ran the numbers for how much we lost when we were grounded last week,” Agnes says in a low, serious tone. “You’ve got a few things to figure out.”

The lightness fades from my dad’s face as he nods solemnly.

And unease grows inside me.

First, Agnes’s offhand comment about the competition, and now this. Is Alaska Wild having money issues? It’s bad enough that my dad has his health to worry about, but does he have his family’s business to stress over, too?

Sonny’s back, running awkwardly across the pavement toward a nearby waiting plane, his short arms hugging a sizeable white Styrofoam cooler. “Just the one, right, Jonah?”

“Yup. Alright. I’m off,” Jonah announces, dragging his feet with the first steps toward his plane, as if reluctant.

“Why don’t you take Calla with you?” Agnes says suddenly.

I can’t help the glare I shoot at her. “No, thanks.” Is she insane? As if I’m going to get into a plane with Jonah alone ever again.

Jonah chuckles, slipping on his sunglasses, hiding his heavy gaze from my view. “That’s okay. Maybe Wren can teach you how to drive while I’m gone.” He turns and saunters toward his plane.

“Have a great flight!” I holler, my blood simmering with annoyance. Shithead.

“Make sure you call in when you land,” Agnes adds.

“Always do.”

“Sooner.” She sounds like a doting mother asking her children to check in.

“Yup.”

She sighs softly, the only sign that she could be frustrated with him, and then turns back to us. “Why don’t you go talk to James and I’ll take Calla into town to get some Benadryl for those bites. It looks like she’s having a reaction.”

“That’d be great.” I punctuate it with a scratch against my arm.

“Yeah.” My dad frowns in thought. “What did he mean about the driving thing, anyway?” His gaze searches the parking lot, no doubt for his truck.

I sigh.

Thanks a lot, Jonah.





Chapter 12




“What about ‘Leisure Looks for the Wild.’ That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, not bad,” I murmur as I scroll through Alaska Aviator’s website. They claim to be the best charter plane company in Alaska. I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m guessing any tourist planning a trip here would take them for their word.

Everything I could possibly want to know is listed—their history, their types of planes, their excursions, their pilots. Safety records, rates, recommendations for lodging and camps—the list goes on. And they have proof in pictures, too! A gallery of picturesque Alaskan landscape and wildlife, taken in every season, meant to lure people in.

If I were a tourist looking to book an excursion, this Alaska Aviator company would likely be at the top of my list. And if not them, then one of the ten other companies I’ve spent the past several hours perusing from my rickety chair on the porch.

It would certainly not be Alaska Wild, which was far down the screen on the search results and didn’t offer me any information besides a directory listing.

“You’re not paying attention to me, are you?” Diana snaps.

“I am! I swear,” I lie. “I think it’s great. Except it’ll be ‘How to Stretch One Leisure Look for an Entire Trip in the Wild ’ if I don’t get the rest of my clothes. I guess that’d be good for backpackers,” I add, half-heartedly.

“You still haven’t gotten your suitcases? That’s madness.”

“Should be today.” Hopefully.

“Okay, so you’ll still have four days to put something together.”

“I guess.”

“Calla! What is your problem? It’s like you don’t care.”

“I don’t know. I’m tired, I guess. I took Benadryl for these bites and it’s making me sleepy.” I wince as I inspect the giant, red welts on my calf. “I don’t think it’s working, either. My skin is all hot, too.”