Free A First Time for Everything by Kristina Ludwig Page B

a “family” hike to celebrate.
    “You love hiking,” he says after I make a face. “Don’t tell me you’re outgrowing it. Last summer, you were begging to go to the Allegheny National Forest every weekend.”
    I corner him in the kitchen, and tell him that I’m fine with the hiking part, but not the family part, since Essie is not my family.
    He says, through clenched teeth, that she technically is and we’re all going to find some unity while I’m still on summer vacation if it kills us.
    I tell him it just might.
    “Not if I kill you first.” My dad laughs, but I think he’s only half joking.
    “How’s that for unity?”
    My dad pretends to come after me with a fork, and I giggle and duck out of the room.
    “I’m going to get changed now,” I yell over my shoulder.
    “Make sure you wear comfortable shoes,” Essie calls from the living room, and I pretend I don’t hear her.
    Half an hour later, I’m at Torrey Pines on the Ocean Hiking Trail, a relatively easy trek compared to some of the raw, untamed forests I’ve hiked in Pennsylvania. The path cuts through sun-drenched golden hills blanketed with strange dark shrubbery, and overlooks the shimmering blue-green waters of the Pacific Ocean. It would be paradise if I could figure out a way to escape the hyper powerhouse that is Essie.
    “Here, O, have some trail mix.” Essie thrusts over a bag of weird homemade stuff that looks like tree bark. 
    “No thanks,” I say. We ate breakfast an hour ago, and the trail isn’t even long. Besides, I have an aversion to eating anything I can’t identify.
    My dad reaches in and grabs a huge handful. “This is delicious,” he says, making a production of devouring every last bit. My dad, who used to eat cool food like Habanero BBQ almonds and potato chips on our hikes, before he was dominated by--er, married to--Essie. 
    “Have some sunscreen, O. You need to protect yourself.” Essie pulls some SPF 30 out of her bag and starts misting my shoulders before I can even reply. She sprays some on my chest, and a gust of wind blows it right into my mouth.
    “Aaaaah!” I exclaim, coughing and sputtering. I wonder if I ingested enough sunscreen to be poisoned. At this point, I would actually prefer a solitary hospital bed to the company of my manic stepmother.
    “Need some water?” Essie asks. I shout a hasty, “No thanks,” over my shoulder, waving my own water bottle as I race ahead of her and my dad. It looks like she’s now attempting to poison him with the out-of-control spray-on sunscreen, but I guess he’s old enough to fend for himself.
    I climb to the apex of the hill, and close my eyes. The West Coast breeze caresses my cheeks and blows stray wisps of fine, honey-blond hair out of my eyes. Essie’s mere presence puts me on edge, but now, I feel tranquil for the first time since I met Justin. I wonder what he’s doing now. Jogging? Enjoying the perfect weather? What else does he do, anyway? 
    “There you are, O!” Essie says, bursting my bubble of serenity with a supersonic pop. She’s panting up the hill with my dad in tow. “We thought we’d lost you. You shouldn’t wander off alone. You could get bitten by a snake, or kidnapped--”
    “I’m okay,” I interrupt. Does she not understand that I’m fourteen? Which is, by definition, not a baby? And since when is she an authority over me anyway?
    “Don’t worry about Livi,” my dad says, his eyes shining with pride. “She’s a veteran hiker.”
    I smile at him, happy that he’s backing me up, while Essie glowers at us both.
    We’re silent for a while as Essie sulks and my dad and I admire the seascape. I decide that mad-Essie is definitely more tolerable than happy-Essie. With Essie finally quiet, I can concentrate on the sheer awesomeness of the landscape, the brilliant, cloudless sky, and the crystalline waters. And I can’t stop thinking about how the ocean is exactly the same color as Justin’s eyes.
    But the reprieve