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ll things considered, everything went well until after lunch. We’d returned for a quick break where the boys briefly left for their camp to grab food then rejoin us in discussing the trails.

Male bonding.

I sat there, my stomach too nervous to force anything down, and chugged water between moving the food around on my plate so that Dad wouldn’t notice and scold me in front of everyone.

It seemed to work, especially since most of the conversations centered on interrogating him about funny anecdotes.

At one point, Ralph plopped down on the picnic table beside me, the weathered wood bowing beneath his solid weight. He leaned in and stole a potato chip off my plate. “So is your dad famous or something?”

I shrugged. “For his generation, yeah. He runs a popular blog for off-roading. He even has several sponsorships from big-name companies that send him parts in exchange for a video review.”

Ralph released a low whistle as he stole another chip. “Well then, I had no idea we were riding with royalty.”

“You didn’t?” Kolton asked, startling me as he plopped down on my other side. He, too, stole a chip. “Ben’s been calling her princess all morning, and we all know how princesses are made.”

He waggled his blond brows, only it looked like they were playing peek-a-boo since they disappeared behind his messy fringe each time.

Ben and Hunter sat down across from me, boxing me in.

Hunter kept an eye on everything, only half facing our conversation, but Ben reached across and… and I was sensing a theme as he crunched down on another one of my chips.

“Yeah, but I’m calling her that because of the sticker.” Ben paused, tilting his head and resembling the largest puppy ever. “Wait, that’s not why you have that sticker, is it?”

“No,” I replied while pulling my plate closer to me, but Ralph could still reach. When I corrected, sliding it in the opposite direction, Kolton swooped in with a victorious cheer, winking at me.

“What?” he questioned when I edged it farther from him. “It’s not like you were eating them.”

I sighed, resigned, and pushed the plate to the middle of the table. It was like the referee placing the ball for the kick-off at the beginning of the game as they descended on my plate. Even Hunter grabbed one half of my sandwich.

The food was gone in ten seconds flat.

Right about that time, Dad meandered over, eyeing my empty plate with satisfaction as he informed us, “We’re ready to head out. You want to drive with us again?”

The three passengers turned to Hunter as one who rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yeah, if you’ll have us.”

“Sure thing,” Dad agreed amiably before his tone pulled a one-eighty. “Now quit crowding my daughter and load up.”

They jumped into action.

When they left, Dad glanced back at me. “Did you get enough to eat?”

I nodded, using the pretense of pulling my gear on so I didn’t have to answer verbally. Lying by omission wasn’t so bad as long as I wasn’t stating it out loud to his face.

“Good. With the peanut gallery gone,” Dad began, sitting at the all but deserted table, “has the four-wheeler been handling alright? Because you can ride with me the rest of the day if you want to, and we can return here next weekend with your brakes fixed up. Heck, since it’s summer break, we could even come back Tuesday if you’d like to practice when the park isn’t so busy.”

I considered his question for a minute, because concentrating on driving while also being terrified about messing up in front of everyone was exhausting. It’d be nice to be a passenger princess for a while.

On the other hand, I already felt childish for being out here with my family as a soon to be senior in high school. The least I could do to improve my standing was drive separately.

“Thanks, but I think I’m getting the hang of it. Like you said, the engine braking and rear brakes seem to be enough for what we’re doing.”

Dad, like me, parsed over my answer before giving a succinct nod. “If you’re sure then…”

“Positive.”

“Well, alright, Willa.”

The afternoon passed similarly to the morning until our convoy hit a split and saw that our way was blocked by the conservation officers.

“What’s going on, Rob?” John asked over the CB.

Dad replied, “I’m not sure. Hang on a sec. I’ll ask.”

One of the officers approached his door, a younger one named Bill. He glanced in the direction of the trail we were supposed to take in response to Dad’s question and shook his head in the negative. Instead, he pointed at the fork to the right.

A dread of unease twisted inside me as I eyed the numbered trail sign that bore a harshly angled line, like the sharp-toothed points of a mountain. Beneath, in all caps, it read, “EXTREME.”

Compared to the loose and much less intimidating gentle, wavy line on the trail we were supposed to take, I’d say my sudden bout of nerves was warranted.

The young officer walked away, back to the bright blue side by side where his partner sat, talking on a radio.

Dad glanced up and caught my eyes in his rearview mirror.

“What’s the verdict, Rob?” John prompted.

Dad held my gaze a moment more before he reached for his walkie-talkie to reply. “Okay, gentlemen and scoundrels, they have two large, downed trees right across the trail due to last week’s big storm. Normally, we’d be able to drive around them, but it’s in an area where the trail follows the bottom of a valley with steep inclines on either side.”

“So what are we going to do?”

Though he avoided my gaze again, it felt as if he was speaking on a megaphone directly at me when he answered, “I know it might be a little difficult since we’re such a large group, but we’ll slowly get turned around to backtrack a bit. There’s another turnoff we can take about four hundred feet back. Find a flat spot between trees where you can reverse your vehicle off the path, and I’ll get turned around to take point again.”

“Alright, chief. You’re the expert around here.”

Before I realized what I was doing, I cleared my throat to talk. My voice came out hoarse since I had avoided speaking much. “No, Dad. Don’t.”

Dad frowned at me in his mirror. “This matter is closed, young lady.”

My cheeks burned, but if ever there was a way to get me to double down and dig my heels in, it was that. “I’m not saying that we actually do the whole thing, but there are only three hills before Eight meets up with Twenty-Seven. By the time everyone gets backed up and turned around, we could have already made it through to the easier trail.”

Silence reigned over the radio once I’d finished making my case, and I realized too late that it would have been better just to keep my mouth shut.

Dad’s door popped open, and he climbed out. A deep frown marred his expression, and he waved off someone behind me, as if telling them to stand down.

I didn’t turn to check who it was because I was too busy determining which side of annoyed Dad fell on—angry or bemused.

He stood over me. “Is your mic off?”

Clicking it off, I nodded, finally figuring out how to hold my tongue.

“Good. Willa, I’m not risking it. Your front brakes are out. It’s too dangerous.”

“We went up a couple of hills like this yesterday,” I argued.

“Yeah, before we found out about your brakes. This isn’t up for discussion. Not only would your mom skin me alive, but you could be seriously hurt.”

My shoulders hunched in. “Did I do that badly yesterday?”

Dad’s expression softened, although it briefly grew more annoyed when he glanced over my helmet once more. “I said I got it. Stay in your Jeep, son.”

My eyes widened, wondering why Hunter had been about to exit his Jeep.

Dad turned back to me, unaware of my inner turmoil. “No, this isn’t about your driving skills. We’ve all been saying how well you’ve been doing.”

“Yeah, for a girl,” I muttered, recalling the sexist comment.

“Not just for a girl.”

I shrugged and averted my gaze.

“Willa, look at me.” When I did, he added, “You’re doing great. I wouldn’t lie.”

Throat tight and eyes burning, I nodded, feeling like a bobble head with the heavy helmet on. “Yep.”

Dad’s head tilted to the side before he sighed. “Okay, if you want to do this, fine, but I’m spotting you at the top of every hill, even if the rest of these guys have to wait while I climb up there to wave you on.”

My nerves slammed back into me with a vengeance, overpowering my momentary triumph. “Sure.”

“And if I go over and find something I don’t like—I don’t care what it is, the ruts are too washed out, there’s a rock on one side of the trail, or a root sticking out too far, anything at all—you don’t argue. I’ll drive the four-wheeler over that part.”

“Of course.”

“And last but not least, your mother never, ever hears about this.”

I snorted. “Like I’d go through all this trouble of being careful just to commit suicide when we get home.”

A grin cracked over Dad’s face. “Okay. Take your time. You’ve got this, and if you don’t, I’m there.”

I grinned, feeling both nervous and relieved.

Dad climbed back in and grabbed the CB. “Alright, I’m making an adjustment to our previously mapped route. We’re going right, lady and gentlemen, and it has a couple of doozies, so strap in.”

No one blinked an eye at the change of plans, or if they did, they didn’t share it over the radio.

My pulse jumped as we turned off onto Trail Twenty-Seven.

Soon, we reached the first of the trio of hills.

John hopped on the CB. “Whoa, when you said there were only three hills, you didn’t mention how steep they’d be.”

“You think this is bad? John, if we weren’t turning off on Eight, I’d show you some that’d curl the hair on your chest,” was Dad’s reply.

He backed his Jeep up, the paint shining bright orange in the cheery daylight, got a running start, and gunned it. My heart fluttered as I watched. About halfway up, the aftermarket shocks got a workout as they bounced over something, but soon, he was all the way up, balancing on the top of the hill before disappearing over the other side.

I waited, hands sweating and stomach turning.

Finally, Dad’s voice sounded out. “Okay, Willa. You can do this. There’s a big, open area at the bottom, so don’t worry about braking too hard, just use enough to control your descent. Engine braking and rears. Also, about halfway up, there are some nasty roots sticking out.”

I pressed the button, turning my mic on. “Yeah, I saw the Jeep jump.”

“Great. When you get to those, just let your momentum pop you over before laying into the throttle again. Too much gas there and you could tip your nose backwards, but if you let off too much, you might not have enough speed to reach the top. Wait for me before you go. I’m heading up there now to spot you.”

With a quick tug on my foot, I shifted into gear, lining up my run like Dad had, though I probably overdid how much distance I’d need.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Some out-of-state visitors, whom I was growing fond of, gave random encouragements. To the side of me now, since the trail ran parallel to the hill’s foot before crossing here, I caught Ben rolling down his front window to give me a thumbs-up and a dimpled grin.

It was distracting enough that Nick got on the radio and told me—in his brotherly way—to get my butt in gear and go since Dad was waiting at the top, so yeah, everyone heard.

If that wasn’t enough motivation to light a fire under my seat to beat a hasty retreat…

I inhaled two quick breaths in and released one slow exhale, loosened my shoulders, and gunned it.

The engine whined as the RPMs maxed out the gear. I shifted into second by the time I reached the base, then I was climbing skyward, quickly approaching the most dangerous part of the hill, the gnarl of roots sticking up, uncovered by years of rain and aggressive tires carving away the dirt.

Just before I hit them, my thumb eased off the throttle as I shifted forward in the seat. The quad bucked beneath me, and I corrected the tires and downshifted, feeling the lower gear return my upward momentum.

A blink later, I slowed at the top of the hill, close enough for Dad to pat my helmet as I stared down at the simple, straight shot to the valley below.

Easy-peasy.

Dad ran down after me, giving me another congratulatory pat on the back while I grinned at the praise the others were giving over the microphone against my ear. Arguably, they were a more effective cheer crew than West Windsor High’s cheerleading squad.

Dad hopped in the front seat of the Jeep and grabbed his radio. “Okay, Hunter, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Hunter answered in his spine-tingling deep voice.

“You can do it like Willa and I did, or you can lock it in four-wheel drive and crawl at a slow gear. That goes for all of you, especially if you’re worried about breaking something, which is very possible at that speed—U-joints being the most likely. I just did it like that to show Willa how she needed to drive since her four-wheeler doesn’t have that option.”

“Okay, thanks,” Hunter replied.

I made sure to park out of the way before turning around to watch. Hunter decided to crawl it in a low gear because soon, the nose of his Jeep crested the ridge, flashing a brief image of the spinning shafts and undercarriage, then the front angled down the decline, showing Ben’s wide-eyed expression as he braced one hand overhead and the other on the dashboard.

Yeah, hills could be deceptive. They didn’t seem half as big or steep until you were on them and the only thing you could see out the front windshield was blue sky.

This must be their first big one.

A combination of my leftover nerves and adrenaline found this hilarious. The fact that they would have heard me cracking up over the comms slipped my mind until they pulled up beside me.

Ben’s window rolled down as he tried to suppress a smile. “You think that’s funny, do you, princess?”

There was no point denying it.

Forgoing lifting my helmet, since my fingers were still shaking too much, I held my hand up and separated my thumb and forefinger an inch apart in the universal sign for, “Yeah, a little.”

Ben’s smile won the battle, slipping free as he shook his head at me.

Hunter used the steering wheel to pull himself forward. “Are the other two hills that bad?”

Oh, he wanted to talk? I shook my hands to loosen the cramped muscles and lifted my face shield. “We went down them three weeks ago, and they weren’t bad, but it’s hard to say for sure. When the soft clay is exposed, it doesn’t take long for rain to make the tracks deeper, or for some hothead with an overpowered big rig sitting on fifty-fives to scoop them out because he’s showing off for his girlfriend or something.”

Hunter’s brow rose. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk.”

Kolton rolled his window down, resting his chin on his folded arms as he widened his big blues into a bug-eyed stare of innocence. “Hey, hey. I’ve got a question. What are fifty-fives?”

“Tires,” Hunter and I answered simultaneously, and Hunter paused to study me, as if reevaluating what he knew about me.

Since I doubted he realized I existed before today, there couldn’t have been much to reclassify.

I cleared my throat, finding it easier to focus on Ben’s soft smile. “Besides that, yeah, this was the most extreme of the three. The others aren’t as tall or steep.”

“Good to know,” Hunter replied before Dad announced we were moving on since the space was limited and to spot your follower. Hunter wouldn’t leave until they watched the next person in line safely make it over.

Since I’d proven my mettle on the difficult hill, Dad didn’t even get out on the second, instead coaching me from the other side.

Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. It was done in a blink.

As we idled, waiting on my dad to lead the way over the last hill, I noticed that despite a plethora of things that should have made me sweat, a chill worked over my body. I swore, recalling how I’d been unable to stomach any food due to nerves from being surrounded by so many intimidating guys from school.

“Alright, Willa?”

I blinked, realizing I’d missed what Dad had said. Not wanting to get caught, I replied, “Gotcha.”

This hill didn’t have quite enough room to gain speed, but the ground was dusty.

Loose dust.

I could pull off a fishtailing turn, since level ground was my wheelhouse, after all.

I backed up beside the boys.

“What are you doing?” Ben shouted over the purr of the motor.

“Getting a running start,” I replied, knowing he’d be able to hear over the radio. The helmet worked hands-free with auto on since most riders usually needed both hands for driving. Everyone else had to pick up the walkie-talkie to communicate.

“But the hill’s that way.”

“Really? Hadn’t noticed,” I quipped before shifting into gear and tearing off.

In short order, I’d revved high and shifted into second, fast approaching the turn. I rose from the seat as my knees absorbed the shock, ready to counterbalance the turn.

I eased off the throttle momentarily to transfer the ATV’s weight to the front tires while yanking the handlebars hard to the left and throwing my weight right. The back end slipped around through the ninety-degree turn.

It worked perfectly, and by the time I was on the hill, my cheeks were squished against the tight helmet from smiling so big. I’d definitely shown off a bit.

Nearly to the top, I jerked in surprise when a figure materialized out of nowhere, its hands outstretched.

I screamed and grabbed the brakes, stopping just short of the silhouette, and watched as he blinked out of existence.

Then, reality returned, and I realized how much trouble I’d put myself in.