Quinton and His Study Group on a Road Trip

I sigh. Maybe accepting Jules’s offer of a road trip wasn’t the smartest idea. Benjamin Lee, Juliet Norris, Paula Prieto, and I all shoved into a four door sedan would be rough enough on its own. And our trip, which was supposed to be three relaxingly paced days out to Jules’s family in Chicago, was probably going to end up being four because of how long it took Ben to get his awkwardly sized bag into the trunk. Or at least would end up being a stressful drive at night for one of us.

My knees brush up against Paula’s as we sit in the back seat. She has her headphones on, clearly smarter than me. I thought, oh, I should be aware of my surroundings and wanted to read a book that Magister Sobol said would be dense but important for my major. I did not realize that the pair in the front on the morning leg of our journey would be quite so frustrating. Jules is jamming along to her odd techno music choices, which would be fine if it wasn’t just loud enough to prevent me from being able to focus on the book, and refused to drive smooth enough for me to enjoy the outside.

Though, in all fairness to Jules, the second point isn’t entirely her fault, I remind myself as Ben quickly says, “Oh shit, um this exit. This exit,” gesturing over at the single lane exit about four car lengths in front of us while we’re in the middle lane. Part of me thinks this is an act, so Ben will never have to navigate us again, but another part of me knows that’s just wishful thinking. Smart people can often be so dumb. The car jerks harshly enough that Paula looks up, sees us headed for the exit, and sighs deeply before looking back down at her phone.

“God damn it Ben,” I mutter, “Watch the damn map.”

“I heard that, Quinton,” Ben shot back at me from the front.

I smirk. “Good,” I say back, “Maybe you’ll learn.”

Ben groans. “It’s summer break, I was promised no learning,” he insists, probably only half jokingly. He’s still trying to figure out what he wants to pursue, so I feel like his plan for the summer is mostly just digesting this whole last year’s classes’ information and deciding what interests him the most.

As we begin to turn onto smaller roads, heading towards the first park we were planning on stopping at, Jules turns slightly. “Okay, everyone,” she says, “I know this is less than ideal, but we can still keep it on schedule and make it to the hotel at a reasonable hour. We just are only going to be taking a half hour at each stop instead of the full hour. Sorry.”

I nudge Paula, who takes off a headphone. “What’s up, Q.?” she asks.

“Half hour at each stop today,” I reply.

She nods. “Makes sense. We don’t want to redo all the reservations.” With that, Paula puts her headphones back on.

I look back at the pair in the front. “We’re good. Still planning to keep lunch at the next stop?”

Ben nods. “There isn’t really a good food spot here. Better a late lunch than a bad one, in my perspective.”

Jules sighs, turning back to the road. “You don’t get a perspective, not until we’re back on schedule.” Then she adds, “But he’s right about the food options here being absent. Unless you’re planning on catching enough fish for all of us in a half hour.”

I laugh. “Not likely. Fishing is more of a full day activity,” I reply. Jules chuckles at that as we finish the trip and pull into a parking lot outside the park. Opening the trunk, I pull out my day bag, with the notepad and instruments. There is a reason I chose this park in particular. And since we only have a half hour here, I need to hurry and don’t have time for pleasantries. The other three are getting out, stretching, gathering their own things for a hike, and I’m already rushing into the park.

Past the stream, past the falls, I head into the woods. There were rumors I’d heard about something, and I for one would like to solve that. Or at least take some notes. It takes several minutes, but I do follow the path to a strange crossroads. What I’m looking for. Burying the makeshift detection kit partway in the ground, I watch carefully as the spoons and dials whirl around on their own. This place seems to make enough background noise on its own to provide interesting cover. Or draw attention. I begin furiously scribbling in my notepad, every detail about the location, the positions of the dials, the rough speed and direction of the torque. As much as I can. Because any bit of information, no matter how seemingly insignificant, might be key. I don’t even notice as Jules sits down behind me. “So this is what you’re after?” she muses aloud, startling me.

“What?” I spit out, “Shush. Busy. Have fun in the stream with the others. Or whatever they’re doing.”

She laughs. “I could, but bothering you is so much fun on its own.”

I grumble something about her being a terrible person as I finish writing down the notes, then start to dig out the sensor. “You know,” I add, “This would be a whole lot easier if you just drove faster.”

“Hey,” she insists, “Blame DC traffic, not me. We should have a better time in the next leg.”

I shake my head. “By we you mean?”

“Oh, you,” she says, “We voted while you ran away. It’s why they sent me after you.”

I smile at Jules. “Sure it is. Ben definitely didn’t suggest it to get your annoying butt away from him.”

“Paula would never stand for that,” she insists.

I give her a look. Paula is here to go back home. The road trip is secondary. And she definitely wouldn’t give up whatever else she’s up to just to defend Jules. “Sure she wouldn’t,” I offer as I finish gathering the sensor up. I pull out a string and place it on the ground, then drive a stake into the end to keep it in place at the center of the crossroads. Then, I begin to follow the path in one direction. Not the hiking trail or the walking path, but rather the space between trees in front of me.

Jules tries to follow. “What are you doing now?” she asks as she clambers over the roots behind me. She’s less used to walking through the wilderness, though and her footsteps begin to fade as I continue to hike onwards. Leaving the string behind me as a trail, always walking forwards, and keeping to the trees with the most evident space between them.

It takes me about twelve minutes, but soon enough, I walk forwards through a pair of tree trunks, and I see Jules, looking confused, waiting for me in the intersection with the string. Everywhere leads here. Though it is a longer path, timewise at least, than I expected. Fascinating. “What the, how?” she asks.

I ignore her for the moment, and pull the string to the base of itself. Keeping it loose but not curled, I cut the string so that the ends touch, then I light it on fire. In a flash, the two ends of the string burst into flames, letting off little to no smoke as the fires burn too fast to light anything else ablaze, and follow the strings to meet in the middle somewhere in the woods. I can measure tonight based on the loss of string. Putting the gear back into the bag, I look at Jules. “Wait, did you get lost? Following a literal string trail I left.”

“There was an easier path and I took it, but then I lost the string almost immediately. Then I tried to backtrack, but I ended up coming out onto the hiking trail. Followed that back here. Was that magic? You know you aren’t supposed to do that outside of school.”

I smile and let out a little chuckle. “No, it isn’t a ritual. None that I could do, in any case. It’s just easy to get lost in these woods, apparently.” Not quite the truth, but close enough. Powerful places don’t exactly follow the rules of the world. Not always. I’m not sure how, but it is quite an interesting thing to observe at least. “Let’s get back to the others before the half hour is up.” I turn to leave and she, hesitantly, follows. To take her mind off of things, I ask, “So who’s navigating for me?”

“That would be Paula. I think she mostly didn’t want to be forced to sit next to Ben, though,” she jokes.

I smile. “Hey, you don’t know. Maybe she just likes sitting next to me,” I offer.

Jules laughs at that, a sweet, hearty laugh. A little too hearty and a little too quick for my liking. She adds, “Sure she does. That’s why she’s the one that came out into the woods to find you and tell you that you’re driving.”

I grin smugly at that. “Oh,” I joke, “Are you saying that you like sitting next to me, then?”

She laughs, but her face does warm up a bit. “Sorry, but you’re not really my type,” she insists, “Lacking a certain refinement.”

“Oh, like Ben,” I continue to make fun of her, “That explains why you invited him. Makes so much more sense now.”

“Shut up,” she says quickly as we leave the woods.

I grin. “It’s okay,” I insist, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

She shakes her head as we meet up with the others. Ben is napping, his legs in the stream, while Paula is staring at the waterfall with her portable easel out. Ben smiles and waves as we approach. “Welcome back. You enjoy your hike, Quinton?” he asks.

“Very much so,” I say, “Especially the seven minutes or so after I lost my most frustrating tail.”

Paula smiles at that. “You didn’t quite lose her,” she notes, nodding towards Jules following me.

“Have you figured out a way to?” I ask jokingly, “She just keeps coming back.”

Paula shrugs. “Nope. I tried by learning about a whole mystical world and going to a mysterious magic college in a different time zone, and there she was at orientation.”

“You both can shut it,” Jules insists. “This was supposed to be a fun, study group trip to Chicago. Well, with some of the study group at least. The ones that wanted to come. That said, we can leave you on the curb if you want.”

“No thank you,” I say first, “Then I wouldn’t get to subject you to my audiobooks.”

Paula offers, “And I promised my family, and your family for that matter, that I’d be there this summer. I really would hate for your mom to start liking you better than me again for the first time since fifth grade.”

Jules laughs at her old friend. “Hey, it was sixth grade,” she insists.

“Come on,” I say, “I need to show Jules how one is supposed to drive on a highway.”

With a smile on her face, Paula looks quickly to Jules. “You made sure your airbags work, right?” she asks.

“Have fun navigating,” Ben states.

As Ben and Jules start making their way to the car, I help Paula gather her things. “By the way,” I ask, “You sure you want to navigate? You seemed really focused earlier.”

She nods. “Far better than being stuck with Ben.” Then, she asks, “So, what terrible book am I going to be forced to listen to?”

“A brief history of the Spanish Invasion of Central America based on the oral tradition of the remnants of local tribes,” I state.

“That was the book you were trying to read?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Hell no. But the Book of Seventeen Vital Parables does not actually have an audio book, and even if it did, I can barely read Latin, much less listen to it and understand.” With a shrug, I add, “Why? Do you want to listen to poorly written medieval Latin parables?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Though I’m not sure this book of oral histories we’re going to be listening to is much better,” she adds before we follow the other members of our road trip to the car.