Road To Rhodes

Chapter3

Beep Beep Beep.

4:30 AM.

She groaned.

The bus was waiting.

Maya lay there for a full minute, staring at the ceiling like it could just safe her the misery and swallow her up, it didn't. She dragged herself up, pulled on the first clean hoodie she could find, and shoved three pairs of jeans into a duffel bag that had been her dad's.

It still smelled faintly like him. Motor oil and mint.

She zipped it fast.

Downstairs, her mum was already gone—a note on the counter this time, not just cash. "Be safe. Call if you can. I love you." Three sentences. Her mum was a woman of few words these days. Maya folded the note small and tucked it into her pocket.

The walk to school in the dark was strange. Streetlights still on. Air cold and damp. Her duffel bumping against her leg with every step. Somewhere a dog barked and Maya felt, for just a second, like she was in a movie she hadn't auditioned for.

The school parking lot was chaos.

Buses—three of them—idled in a row, coughing exhaust into the early morning gloom. Students milled around with sleeping bags and overstuffed backpacks, parents hugging them goodbye, teachers waving clipboards like they were directing traffic at a disaster scene.

Maya spotted Sasha immediately. She was standing near the first bus, waving both arms at Maya.

"You're here! You're actually here!" Sasha grabbed her in a hug that smelled like vanilla lotion and excitement. "I was eighty percent sure you'd fake your own death to get out of this."

"Thought about it. Too much paperwork."

Sasha laughed, loud and bright, and Maya felt something loosen in her chest. Just a little.

"Okay, okay, we need a plan." Sasha pulled back, all business now. "I already scouted the buses. Bus A is the seniors. Bus B is juniors. Bus C is equipment. We're Bus A."

"Obviously."

"Obviously. Now, the key is sitting together. If we sit together, we control the narrative. We control the snacks. We control—"

"Maya Martinez."

The voice came from behind them, and Maya didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Sasha's face had already gone through three emotions in half a second—shock, panic, and then something Maya couldn't quite read.

"Speak of the devil," Sasha muttered. "In a leather jacket."

Maya turned.

Rhodes Callahan was walking toward them, duffel bag slung over one shoulder like he was in a cologne commercial. His hair was perfectly messy. His smirk was perfectly annoying. He was wearing sunglasses even though the sun wasn't up yet.

Sunglasses.

Maya wanted to throw something at him.

"Morning, partner." He stopped a few feet away, looking her up and down. "You look... awake. Barely."

"It's four in the morning. Nobody looks awake."

"I do."

"Congratulations. Do you want a medal?"

Sasha made a choking sound that was either a cough or a laugh. Maya couldn't tell.

Rhodes just grinned. "I like you, Martinez. You're spicy."

"I'm not a chicken wing."

"Could've fooled me."

He walked past them toward the bus, bumping Maya's shoulder lightly as he went. She stood frozen, fingers curled around her duffel strap, trying to figure out if she wanted to scream or laugh or maybe both.

"What," Sasha whispered, "was that."

"I don't know."

"He said he likes you."

"He said I'm spicy. That's not the same thing."

"It's basically the same thing."

Maya grabbed Sasha's arm and dragged her toward the bus. "We're not talking about this."

"We're absolutely talking about this."

"We're not."

"Fine." Sasha pulled free and climbed the bus steps ahead of her. "But I'm reserving the right to say 'I told you so' when something happens."

"Nothing's going to happen."

"Sure. And I'm the Queen of England."

***

The bus was already half full. Students had claimed seats with bags and jackets, staking territory like this was a battlefield and not a school trip, but it sort of, was. The energy was weird—some people were already asleep against windows, others were talking too loud, running on adrenaline and bad coffee.

Maya spotted an empty row near the middle and made a beeline for it.

She was two steps away when a leather jacket dropped onto the seat from the row behind.

"Saved it for you."

Rhodes was stretched out across the back row, feet up, arms crossed behind his head. He looked like he was posing for an album cover.

"I don't need you to save me a seat."

"You're right. You don't need me to." He tilted his head. "But I did it anyway. Take the seat, Martinez. Don't make it weird."

Sasha, from somewhere behind her, whispered, "This is already weird."

Maya ignored her. She grabbed his jacket off the seat, dropped it on his face, and sat down.

Sasha slid in next to her a second later, eyes huge and delighted.

"You just threw his jacket at his face."

"He was being annoying."

"You're my hero. Genuinely. I want that on a t-shirt."

The bus rumbled to life beneath them. Mr. Donovan climbed aboard with his clipboard, looking like a man who'd already regretted every choice that led him here.

"All right, listen up! This is a mandatory wilderness education trip. You will respect nature. You will respect each other. You will respect the buddy system. Your assigned partner is your responsibility. You lose them, you answer to me."

A groan rippled through the bus.

"I'm serious. We have three weeks of hiking, camping, and team-building ahead of us. No phones except for emergencies. No sneaking off. No complaining about the food because we all know camp food is terrible and I don't want to hear about it."

Maya felt her phone buzz in her pocket. One last text from her mum, probably. She didn't check it.

"The buddy system," Donovan continued, "means you stick with your assigned partner. That means meals, hikes, tent setup, everything. I don't care if you don't like them. I don't care if you've never spoken to them before. By the end of this trip, you will know them better than you know yourself. Any questions?"

Someone in the back raised a hand. "Can we switch partners?"

"No."

The hand dropped.

Maya felt a tap on her shoulder. She didn't turn.

Another tap.

"What." She whipped around.

Rhodes was leaning forward between the seats, his chin resting on his arms like he had all the time in the world.

"Just wanted to say," he murmured, low enough that only she could hear, "I won't lose you, partner. Promise."

Maya stared at him. He stared back. His eyes weren't smirking anymore—they were something else. Something quieter.

Then he leaned back and closed his eyes like the conversation had never happened.

Maya turned around slowly.

Sasha was watching her. "What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"Your face is doing that thing again."

"It's dark in here. You can't see my face."

"It's getting lighter by the second and your face is burgundy."

Maya pulled her hood over her head and sank down in her seat. The bus lurched forward, pulling out of the parking lot, and the whole school disappeared behind them.

Three weeks.

Rhodes Callahan.

A tent.

She was so doomed.

The first hour passed in a blur of highway and hushed conversations. Sasha fell asleep on Maya's shoulder around the second hour, her breathing soft and steady. Maya let her stay there, watching the world scroll past the window, fields bleeding into trees bleeding into mountains.

She thought about her dad. She thought about his laugh. She thought about how he'd always promised to take her camping someday and never did.

She thought about the boy in the back row who looked at her like she was a challenge and a secret all at once.

And she thought about what Donovan had said.

You will know them better than you know yourself.

She had a feeling Rhodes Callahan was the last person she wanted to know.

But the bus kept driving anyway.