If they were going to climb a volcano, they would need supplies. Most important, Zadie would need to trade in her platform sneakers for real hiking boots—an expense she wasn’t thrilled about, but it beat blisters. A quaint general store with a carved wooden bear lurking by the front door had exactly what they needed: boots and socks; water bottles; sunscreen; bear spray; enough jerky to distract a bear if spray failed; and a topographic map of Mount Ire National Monument. While the girls were shopping for essentials, Joel was browsing a display of men’s T-shirts. He had been wearing the same sweaty hotel polo for a day and a half, and Zadie had noticed him sniffing it minutes earlier.

“How amazing do I look?” Joel said, completely unironically as he spun around to show off his new outfit. The shirt he had selected depicted a brightly colored tableau of a pack of wolves howling at an oversize moon, the kind of art you’d see spray-painted on the side of a rusty Chevy Astro.

“It’s…” Zadie began, flipping through her mental index for a word that was complimentary, but not so disingenuous it was glaringly obvious.

Finn completed the thought for her. “It’s very you.”

Joel brightened. “I know, right? I almost bought a shirt with one wolf on it, then I saw this one had five!”

“You can never have too many wolves,” Finn said without cracking a smile.

“Totally.” Presumably satisfied that he had made the right decision, Joel pulled the shirt back over his head and went to the register to check out. The sisters followed behind, covertly picking up a few more items Joel would need but had neglected to purchase for himself (a toothbrush, spare socks, deodorant) and adding them to their haul.

Less than an hour later, they arrived at Mount Ire National Monument. The route Finn had plotted for them would take them within yodeling distance of the volcano—the trails leading up the mountain itself were far too advanced for even a moderately seasoned hiker, let alone Zadie, who, even with proper footwear, was unsteady on her feet.

The hike was surprisingly pleasant. Unlike the Constellation Campground, the Obsidian Trail had long stretches of shade from the towering pines. And the best part of all, Zadie thought. No sand. (Although a particularly sharp pine needle still managed to find its way into her right sock.) Indeed, she was enjoying herself, despite the relentless ramblings of one Joel Magliano.