I watched the sun as I fell. So what, I thought, if Mom and Dad divorced? Would it really be the end of the world? This was the world - this huge thing below me, reduced to nothing more than toy-like dioramas of forests and towns. There were a hundred million problems waiting for me when I landed, but when you got high enough, all those problems seemed so small and insignificant. The sun didn't care about divorce. The sky didn't care about grades. No one cared, except me and the people in the below-world.
I wasn’t a scholarshipper up here; I wasn’t a teacher’s pet, a wannabe psychologist, a girl who left her friends behind, or an attempted good-daughter. I was just…me.
I was so lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed Burn giving us all a thumbs up. Shit. It was time. This was the do-or-die thing. Do or die at .0007 percent, of course. Everything Burn said rushed through my head at once - left is right, right is left. Pull the right tab over your shoulder. Aim for the giant JP on the ground - which I could now almost see - carved into the grass. Don’t hit trees. For the love of God and your legs, don't hit the damn trees, Bee. Wolf moved to let go of my hand, since he was the first one to parachute, but something in me squeezed his hand tight, willing him to stay. Willing him to stay here with me.
He looked at me, and for once the fire in his eyes was warm. Not burning, no scalding fire – only a gentle heat, and even though we were enemies, even though we’d promised to hate each other, I couldn’t help but let that heat warm me from the inside. It made me feel like everything was going to be okay. I let go, and he pulled his hand from mine and peeled away from us. He parachuted, and our falling speed quickly left him behind. Burn pointed at me with his free hand, and I let go of Fitz's. Wolf made it look easy - the sudden loss of three other stabilizing bodies was huge. I was on my own again, in the wide cruel sky, the wind ready to toss me around. If I messed this up, I would be dead. Donezo. Gone.
Right side tab, I repeated to myself. I yanked it hard, but nothing happened. Panic gripped my throat, until I took a deep breath.
The Blackthorn's mom was right - it wasn't the falling that was hard. It was the landing.
I could do this. I had to do this.
Wolf’s warm gaze played back like an echo on my eyelids.
Everything would be okay.
I pulled again with all my might, and instantly felt the yank back as the parachute deployed. My neck protested with a lightning crack of whiplash, and the feeling of all my organs falling back into place was bizarre, yet welcome. I was just floating now, arcing slowly above the forests and houses. Was that our town below me? I could see cars moving in a steady stream, people going about their lives.
I kept breathing in and out, my eyes searching for the massive JP pattern in the grass. I saw it – carved in a distant field, the helicopter parked on it, and tugged on my left tab. My parachute tilted a little, catching the wind at a different angle and steering me towards it. I could see Wolf’s parachute as he touched down and the cloth crumpled with the lack of air. He’d made it. I’d make it, too.
I saw him waiting for me, gathering up his parachute. I pulled the left tab harder, and the ground was suddenly so much closer. Then all at once, my feet hit the ground, and I started running, the force of my momentum carrying me forward until finally the parachute deflated and my run petered out. I felt someone tugging on it and turned to see Wolf there, his googles off and his hair windblown to hell and back.
“You made it,” He said, detaching the parachute for me so I could actually move without dragging it.
“Don’t sound so happy,” I said. “It means I get to keep being a thorn in your side.”
He smirked crookedly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It was weird – the two of us smiling at each other like some kind of idiots. But the adrenaline was pumping through me so hard and fast I couldn’t help my smile, and apparently he couldn’t either. I helped him bring the parachutes into the aircraft barn, adding them to a big pile. Suddenly the stress of it all caught up with me, and my legs felt too weak to even stand. I collapsed on the parachute pile.
“Are you alright?” Wolf asked.
“I’m fine, I’m just – overwhelmed, I guess. That was incredible.”
“But you were scared out of your mind,” He added.
“Obviously,” I exhaled.
“Was it worth the fear?”
I stared up at the rafters, then at the way the sun shafted over his face. His jade eyes turned almost translucent in the light, golden-green like the leaves of a delicate plant. The sun always made his features more handsome, infuriatingly handsome, and he basked in it as a lion does; uncaring and regal.
“Yeah,” I decided finally. “I think…I think the most important things in life, the things worth doing, are always scary. At first.”
“Like what?”
I flushed. “I dunno! Like…like competing in something. Or confessing to someone. It’s always scary, but then you do it and it turns out to be the best thing you ever did.”
“Even if you don’t win?”
“It isn’t about winning. It’s about trying. About living to the fullest, with no regrets.”
Wolf chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded. He didn’t answer, his laugh petering out. From the open doors of the aircraft barn, I saw Fitz land and collapse on the grass on all fours. Burn landed shortly after, helping Fitz up and undoing his parachute. Wolf watched them walk towards us, his voice soft.
“She would’ve liked you,” He said.
“Who?”
“Our mom.”
The silence between us always felt so heavy, but this one was somehow gentle.
“Thank you,” I said finally. “For letting me do this with you guys.”
Wolf offered me his hand up, and I paused. If I took it, would we really still be enemies? Enemies wouldn’t offer to help each other. Enemies wouldn’t take each other sky-diving on their dead mother’s birthday. Enemies wouldn’t laugh with each other. What exactly were Wolf and I, now? And why did what we were matter so much to me?
I took his hand, and he pulled me up with ease. I ended up standing a little too close when he pulled me up, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe, our chests nearly touching.
“Wolf, you –“
“It’s getting easier,” He murmured. “Touching people. It’s still hard to do it with anyone else, but with you –“
“Wolf!” Fitz came running towards us, a huge grin on his face. “Did you see me? I landed like in that one James Bond movie!”
Every ounce of fear was gone from Fitz, though as he drew closer I could see he was shaking. The adrenaline clearly had a giddy effect on him. He flung an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
“You saw me, right Bee? I handled that whole thing like the smoothest special agent in the world.”
“Like you were born doing it,” I smirked.
“So brave,” Wolf deadpanned, and Fitz pointed at him accusatorily.
“You shut up. At least I try to get over my fears, instead of wallowing in them.”
“Wolf’s trying, Fitz,” I spoke up. “In his own way. Everybody tries in different ways, at different paces, okay?”
“Well he doesn’t have to do it with a holier-than-thou attitude.”
“That’s just how he is,” I sighed. “You know that.”
“It almost sounds like Bee knows your brother better than you do, Fitz,” Burn said as he walked up.
“Oh stuff it,” Fitz rolled his eyes and tore off his synthetic pants and jacket, dumping then on the parachute pile. “I’ll be waiting in the car. Let’s get back to civilization before I forget how to use a fork.”
Burn made a faux salute as Fitz walked off. Suddenly, the screen door to the little office banged open, and Jakob came out, applauding us.
“Look at you! All in one piece!” He smiled at me. “I saw your landing from t
he window; you’re a natural.”
“Thanks,” I grinned. “It was terrifying at first, but then once you hit the open sky, you just sort of –“
“Forget everything that’s going on in your head?” Jakob laughed. “Yeah. That’s why I do it. That’s why I keep this place up and running, so other people can experience that feeling, too.”
“Well thank you,” I said. “For everything. It was an amazing experience.”
“Anytime. You’re welcome here anytime – you’re much politer than any of the Lost Boys.” He jerked his head at Burn and Wolf, and I laughed. We shed our synthetic clothes and headed back to the car, my arm pumping madly as I waved goodbye to Jakob. Wolf sat with me in the backseat, Fitz up front fiddling with the music stations while Burn drove. Fitz stopped on some corny country music and air-banjo’d hard at a stoplight. The older couple in their car next to us shot Fitz nasty looks, but that only made him mime playing harder. I joined in with another air banjo, and Fitz laughed as Burn hit the gas and left them in the dust.
The highway at dusk was beautiful – the pink sunlight made the road look like a massive velvet ribbon winding over the hills. Only a few cars were on the road, blinking red and white in the twilight air. There was the smell of fresh pines so green and alive I could almost taste them. It was a beautiful night. Everything looked different from the sky, but at the same time it made me grateful to see the beauty of it all from the ground, up close.
I looked over at Wolf. He had one elbow on the car door, his hand cradling his chin. The wind played with his hair, his eyes riveted to something in the far distance. He was thinking. About his mom? Maybe. About his problem? Maybe. I wanted to know what he was thinking, to ask him. I knew he wouldn’t tell me. And I hated being that person – the one who poked her nose in everyone’s business.
But I guess it was too late for that. It’s exactly who I was.
I looked down at the brown leather of the seats between us. My hand rested on one side of the middle seat, his on the other. Just a few more inches, and –
I looked up to see Wolf staring at me looking at our hands. I felt a hot wave roll over my cheeks.
“I wasn’t –“
“Just one more time?” He asked, voice soft. He turned his hand palm-up, as if waiting for mine.
“But –”
“I know. You said you’d never help me again. And that’s your right. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about –” He cut himself off and shook his head. “No. You’re right. Nevermind.”
His hand started to close, and I darted out and met his palm with mine. Wolf’s face looked shocked, completely thrown off.
“Just one last time,” I repeated, hard, like it would make it real and final. He grinned.
“One last time.”
The sun said its final goodbye and the moon said its first hello. Wolf curled his fingers, hesitantly, slowly, between mine, the two of us fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle. It was cliché. It wasn’t right for enemies to do this. There was a hundred things wrong with it, and yet it felt absolutely perfect. The heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers, the soft music Fitz decided on, the chill of the wind, his smile – this was a moment I wanted to remember for the rest of my life. Even if it was only to help him. Even if it meant nothing. Even if it was fake, a way to make him like me, a way to keep my scholarship – I could still keep this moment to myself.
All the memories I’d tried to erase about him came flooding back, and this one joined them.
Chapter 14
WOLF
I hate competing.
Which makes the fact I’m swimming in the county semi-finals today a little weird.
I have to be here, is partly it. That’s one of the requirements when you join the swim team. I roll my neck out as Coach yells at someone to stop stretching their calves wrong. The whole pool is bustling with activity – the stands are packed, and the three other schools competing besides us are doing all kinds of warm ups. A particularly entrepreneurial spirit jogs around selling candy and popcorn and drinks to the cheering family members in the stands. It’s an uncommonly warm day – probably the last one we’ll have for a while.
Everyone’s on edge. I can sense it from here – guys looking at each other sideways, laughing nervously in their groups as they huddle together and talk about who looks the fastest, the toughest. I recognize some of them – public schools have just as many talented athletes as Lakecrest does. That’s the beauty of amateur sports; it doesn’t matter how much money you have – there’s always going to be someone better. Someone who trains harder. Someone who’s more naturally talented. I recognize one of the guys from Redtree High School. He’s a senior who smashed the 50 meter butterfly record last year.
“Blackthorn!” Coach shouts. “James isn’t on his game. You’re up for the breaststroke 200.”
Great. Just as she says that, the announcer comes on with the introduction. He calls for the breaststroke 200 first, and I get up and move to the starting platforms. I pull on my swimming cap and goggles. The other guys look driven and concentrated as hell, and here I am, just wanting to get through this meet with the least possible stress. Some of them wave to their families in the stands, who cheer and wave back. It’d be nice if someone was here for me like that. But Dad never came to these. Not that I expected him to – he was a busy man full of busy money-making school-boarding. Not that I want him to. He’d just haughtily look on, never clap or cheer, and make some offhanded stinging comment about how I must love this sport since there are a bunch of men without shirts around.
I’d given up a long time ago waiting for him to come to these.
Burn and Fitz do, instead. Well, Burn does. He likes watching me compete. Fitz is a little less enthusiastic about it – preferring his computers to actual sun and exertion. But today I watch them slink into the stands; Fitz with a too-thick layer of sunscreen and massive sunglasses on. He even carries a black umbrella to shade himself, the drama queen. Burn is much less picky – only a bottle of water to his name.
My eyes widen as one more person slides along and sits with them.
Bee, carrying sunscreen and looking a little lost, sits next to Fitz. He makes her hold his umbrella. Thankfully they’re in the highest row of seats, otherwise they’d have people complaining. Like last time. Wherever Fitz goes, it turns out complaints follow. But she holds the umbrella without a fuss, laughing at something he said. Burn offers her his water, but she shakes her head. They all see me looking their way, and start cheering, but I can’t understand a word they’re saying. It doesn’t help that Bee’s smile has me mesmerized.
“Swimmers, on your marks!”
The voice of the ref shakes me out of it, but barely. My blood is thrumming in my ears, my heartbeat so fast I could’ve sworn I already swam a two hundred meter twice over.
“Get set!”
The other guys lean in, touching their fingers to the board, and I follow suit.
I’m not competitive at all.
So then why do I suddenly feel the molten urge to crush everyone and win?
“GO!”
The sound of the blank in the gun propels me forward. I cut through the water, throwing all of my muscles into pulling me to the end. Water splashes everywhere, my vision a blur of waves and turbulence. I hit the end of the pool hard, and turn underwater, shooting off to the next lap. My lungs burn, every inhale like fire on its way down my throat. There’s only me. I can’t see anyone else, or how far ahead they are. I can only see the water. I can only hear the roaring crowd when I pivot, the rest of the time I’m underwater, with only aquatic silence and a little splashing.
This is the thing I like most about swimming – it becomes only me. It feels like I’m the only one in the pool. Everything else just drops away; my worries, my fears, my past chasing me. It all melts in the water. There’s only me, and the burning of my body, and the thought Bee’s eyes are on me.
Three laps down. One more to go.
My lungs beg me to stop, but I push them harder. Faster. I’m almost at the end, I can feel it. And then my fingertips touch the metal of the sensor board, and I come up for air to a buzzer sound. The crowd cheers, and I haul myself out of the water. I find Bee’s eyes in the crowd, her excited smile in the morning sun so gorgeous I suddenly have an even harder time breathing. She’s smiling to me. Because of me. Is this the first time I’ve made her smile? Because it feels like the first.
The shouts of the announcer blur, and Coach’s arm around my shoulder is the only thing that tears me from the crowd.
“Christ, Blackthorn! That was incredible! Where were you hiding that time in practice? You broke the state record!”
I blink water out of my eyes. “What?”
“Look!”
She motions to the board that shows 2:13.36.
“The world record for juniors is 2:09! Goddamn it, Blackthorn, you might have what it takes to get us to finals!”
I should be happy. I should be proud. But all I can think of is Bee. Coach sits me out for the next round. My team looks less than thrilled I’ve done well, but I don’t care about them. As I’m drinking water, Burn and Fitz squeeze from the stands and dash over to me, Bee on their heels.
“Holy shit, Wolf! You were like lightning! Not that there’s lightning in water, or you’d die –” Fitz cuts himself off. “I’m so proud of my little merman. Look at you, all grown up.”
Burn merely smiles at me, his eyes crinkling in that special way. And Bee, as smiley as she is, suddenly looks shy. She sets her eyes on my face determinedly, her own cheeks red.
“G-Good job.”
“That’s all you can say?” I smirk.
“It almost looked like you were being chased by sharks,” She manages a half-insult. I give her a ‘not bad’ look.
“You can do better.”
“You –” Her gaze wanders down my body, snapping back up. A surge of hot pride prickles my skin.