Girl Against the Universe (16 page)

He squeezes me gently. “Thank you for inviting me.” His words tickle my neck and earlobe.

I reluctantly pull back from the embrace. “Ready for your turn?”

He tosses his sunglasses back toward his backpack. “Hell yeah.”

We switch places so that he's ready to climb and I'm hooked to the belay device. I gnaw on my lower lip as I watch him approach the wall, being careful to make sure there's no slack in the rope. I wasn't worried about my own safety, but Jordy climbing is a whole different story.

“Hang on a sec,” I say. I double-check both of our setups again and then scan the entire clearing, going from climber to climber to make sure everyone seems secure. Okay. “Belay on.”

Jordy anchors the toe of his shoe against a small outcropping of rock and steps upward, his hand finding a hold above his head. Immediately the rope goes slack, and I quickly pull it through. He steps up again, and I tighten the rope once more.

One move at a time, he ascends the wall. His height makes it easy for him to find holds for his hands and feet. I
have a feeling he could be doing this even faster if he weren't concerned with giving me enough time to keep the line taut.

“You okay?” I ask when he reaches the halfway point and pauses for a moment.

“I'm good,” he calls down, the fingers of his right hand dipping into his bag of chalk. “Just relax.”

But I can't relax. Right now there is no knocking on wood. There are no five-second checks. There is just me, and a rope tied to a setup I made, holding Jordy in the air. As he nears the top, I inhale deeply and hold my breath. My brake hand is gripping the rope so tightly that the nylon fibers are digging into my skin. Jordy touches the carabiner and then looks down at me. “You look scared.”

“I am scared,” I admit.

“So then let me down so you won't have to be scared anymore.”

I slowly belay him back to the ground. His feet hit the gravel and he turns to me, his fingers white with chalk, his hair sticking up in sweaty peaks. “So you did it. Took back something the Universe stole from you. How does it feel?”

I close my eyes. My muscles are quivering. The sun is searing the back of my neck. The wind is kicking up just enough sand to sting my legs as it blows past. But all of that is nothing. The shouts of the people around us are nothing. Tomorrow and yesterday are nothing. All I know is that I put my climbing gear in a box five years ago and never
thought I'd pull it out again. “It feels amazing,” I tell him. “Like nothing else in the whole world matters except for this moment.”

Jordy unclips from the setup. He takes my hands in his and considers the red welts across my palms, marks from where I gripped the rope too tightly. “You were really scared for me, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you like me.”

“Maybe,” I admit.

The wind blows his hair back from his face. “Are you scared now?”

My heart is beating hard, but for once it's not about fear. I shake my head.

He rests a hand on my waist. My face is just inches from his chest. I crane my neck to look up at him. He slouches a little bit as he looks down. “What about now?”

“No?”

Wrapping one arm around my neck and the other around my legs, he picks me up and carries me off toward the face of the cliff.

I squirm. “Jordy! What are you doing? Put me down.”

“As you wish.” Jordy sets me down on a wide, flat rock near where the end of our rope is hanging. It's just tall enough that for once we're eye to eye. He grins mischievously. “Sorry, I just want to be part of the moment.”

Suddenly I realize what he's doing.

Suddenly I'm scared.

“Your eyes are pretty,” he says.

My mouth goes dry. I lick my lips and manage to mumble, “Thanks.”

Jordy rests his cheek against mine. His sweat is slick and his beard stubble prickles my skin. His breath is hot in my ear. A wave of tension rushes through my body. Every part of me goes tight, contracted. The air floats silent in my lungs until I realize I'm holding my breath. I exhale slowly.

“I'm scared now,” I say.

“Me too,” he says. “But do you think fear is good sometimes? Like it motivates you to be stronger?”

“Yeah.”

He presses his lips to my jawbone, right below my ear. “You think this is one of those times?”

“Maybe,” I whisper. “I just don't know if I can do it.”

“Maybe neither one of us has to do it. Maybe we can just let it happen.” He pulls back just far enough to press his forehead to mine, aligning our eyes.

Aligning our lips.

He's so close that I'm seeing double. “Is this the real you?” I ask.

“Maguire. This is more real than I have felt in months.”

We both breathe out at the same moment, and our breath mingles. His eyes are a desert of browns and golds. I can barely feel his hands on my waist, balancing me. The heat, the shouts of the other climbers, the sharp smells of sweat and
chalk—everything fades to a blur again. His eyelids flutter shut. Mine do the same.

I don't know who closes the gap between us.

All I know is that my entire body goes weak when we finally kiss. My fingers begin to shake as he presses his lips harder against mine. I tighten my grip on his waist to quell the tremors. He coaxes my lips apart with his tongue. His breath warms the inside of my mouth. I try to mimic what he's doing. I hope he can't tell that I've never kissed anyone before.

My mind races, one thought after the next, about how weird it feels to be connected to another person like this, about how good it feels, about what it means, about what it doesn't mean, about how much time has passed since Jordy finished climbing. I pull back, my eyes flicking around the area nervously. No one is paying us any attention. Everyone seems to be safe.

Jordy runs the back of his hand down the side of my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just forgot where we were for a second.”

He grins. “Good.”

My stomach does one of those Olympic triple-loop ice-skater jumps. I force a smile. “So,” I say.

“So.” Jordy brushes his lips against mine again. “You want to climb more? Or you just want to keep doing this? Because I'm good either way.”

I hop down off the rock and stride across the gravel to
our gear. “I'm suddenly really hungry.”

“Me too,” he says, “but not for food.”

I swat at his chest playfully and dig a couple of energy bars out of my bag. “We can eat these now, and I have food for us to cook for supper. Or we can just get something on the way home.”

“Whatever you want.”

I have a feeling he's talking about more than just food. I toss him an energy bar. We both sit on the ground, chewing in silence. I'm actually not hungry at all. My stomach is still going for a gold medal. But I choke down the gritty chocolate as best I can, scanning the area for possible hazards as I chew.

My eyes look everywhere but at Jordy. I can't believe he kissed me. Or did I kiss him? I don't even know. I don't know if it's going to happen again, if it should happen again. I'm seized by the strangest urge to reach up and touch my lips, to make sure they're real, they're normal, that they haven't swelled up to three times their size.

Laughter from down the way interrupts my thoughts. As I glance down at a trio of guys who are packing up their gear, I remind myself that Jordy and I are climbing and it's dangerous and I can't freak out over the fact that we kissed, even though part of me needs to.

After we finish our snack, I set three more climbs for us, but on the last one Jordy decides he's done.

“I'm getting sort of worn out,” he says.

“What's up with that?” I ask. “You train five hours a day. Shouldn't you be one of those people who never get tired?”

“I should.” He chuckles. “Maybe I'm getting old.”

“Your sister said you went to the doctor, right? Did they find anything?”

“Nah, they took some blood and asked me a bunch of questions, but I'm wondering if it isn't just stress—Real Me versus Tennis Me, fighting my parents, this whole thing with going pro versus going to college.”

“It's a big decision, I guess.”

“Yeah.” He looks serious for a second. “I don't want to think about it right now.” He points at the cliff. “Last chance. Go for it.”

Almost everyone else has left by now. There's only us and one other group—the girl in the pink capris and her boyfriend, about a hundred feet away from where we are. The guy is at the top of the cliff, preparing to rappel down after setting their climb, while the girl waits at the bottom. I step up to the wall, closing my eyes briefly to focus myself.

That's when I hear the girl scream.

I can't immediately tell what's wrong. The guy appears to be halfway down the wall but is just hanging in the air. The girl is digging in a gear bag. She pulls out a phone, looks at the display, and then swears.

“No signal,” she hollers up. “Hold on, Chad.”

I unclip and race down toward the other climbers. Jordy is right behind me. “What's going on?” I ask. I try to quell the dread that's gathering in the pit of my stomach.
Don't panic
, I tell myself.
It might be nothing.

But it's definitely something.

“He didn't center the rope and now he's stuck. If he goes any farther he'll rappel off the end of it.”

“Crap. You guys didn't tie safety knots?”

“I guess not,” the girl says. “We were in a hurry to squeeze in one more climb before dark.”

“Don't panic, Allison,” Chad shouts. “I can just unclip and free-climb down.”

“You can't see the holds below you,” she yells. “You won't know where to put your feet.”

“A good climber uses his sense of feeling more than vision,” Chad responds.

“A good climber doesn't rappel off the end of his rope,” I mutter under my breath. Then I look up at Chad. “Hang on. I'll run up and set a top belay and throw the rope down so you can clip in and climb up.”

“Oh my God,” Allison says. “You are a lifesaver. Literally.”

I scramble back up the cliff and unhook our setup. I rig the gear over next to where Chad is, double-check that everything is secure, and toss my rope down to him. He unclips from his own setup and onto mine with only a little wobble. Slowly he climbs his way back to the top of the cliff as I belay him from above. Once he reaches the top, he crawls over the edge and lies on his back for a moment, looking up at the darkening sky.

“He's okay,” I call down to Jordy and Allison. “We'll be down in a few.”

Chad covers his face with his hands. “Man, I really screwed up.” His voice wavers. “I could have broken my neck.”

“Yeah.” I sit cross-legged next to him. “But you're okay now.”

He sits up and takes a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he
says, “Thanks. I didn't catch your name.”

“Maguire.”

He smiles. “I like it.”

“Me too.” I start to remove my anchors, dislodging a couple of cams and unknotting a loop of webbing I had secured around a big boulder. Once I've got all my gear together, I start working on Chad's.

“I can get that,” he says.

“I know. But take a couple minutes to pull yourself together. It's no big deal. This is what climbers do for each other, right?”

“I'm not sure I'm going to be able to climb again after this.” He tilts his head left and then right, like he's working kinks out of his neck and shoulders.

“Sure you will,” I say. “Your fear will make you better if you let it. And next time you won't skimp on the safety precautions.”

“That's for damn sure,” he says. “Let's get down before it gets any darker.”

As the sun falls behind the mountains on the horizon, we gather all of our gear and make our way down the walk-up.

Jordy and Allison are waiting at the bottom. “Thanks again, Maguire.” Chad raises his hand for a high five.

I slap it. “Take care.”

Allison gives me a hug, and then she and Chad head for the parking lot. She starts screaming at him for scaring her
before they're halfway to his truck.

I collapse at a nearby picnic table. “That was seriously scary.”

“You totally rescued that guy and made it look easy,” Jordy says. “They're just lucky . . .” He stops and clears his throat. “
Lucky
,” he repeats, “that we were still here.”

“Yeah. Even I can't argue with that.” There's a tiny nagging voice in my head that wonders if maybe Chad wouldn't have gotten in trouble in the first place if I hadn't been here, but I had time to act, and everything turned out fine. That doesn't feel like bad luck on anyone's part.

I lay my head on the picnic table, reaching up to flip my braid back over my shoulder. The hair at the nape of my neck has come loose and matted into a ball. “Ugh. I'm going to have to spend like two hours untangling this mop.”

“Just leave it tangled,” Jordy says. “Who cares?”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. My Hair Looks Perfect At All Times.”

Jordy snorts. “Well, if it does, it's no thanks to me. Some stylist recommended this haircut. And the phony highlights to go with.”

“I knew those blond streaks were fake.” I snicker. “You really let some stranger pick out your hairstyle? Does she pick out your clothes too?”

“Don't be ridiculous.” He scoffs. “My mom picks out my clothes.” I laugh. “She does, too,” he says seriously. “The tournament outfits. I don't care what I wear on the court. It
seems like an easy way to make her happy.”

“That's sweet,” I say. “A little pathetic, but sweet.”

“You're just scratching the surface of pathetic probably,” Jordy says. “I'm sort of a people pleaser, if you haven't noticed. Penn's always on my case about being a wuss.”

“She just wants what's best for you.”

“Everyone wants what's best for me, but no one seems willing to give me a little time to figure out what that is.”

It's going on seven o'clock, and the stars are coming out—more stars than I've ever seen. More stars than I even knew existed. Small clouds of sand blow across the picnic area, the tiny grains biting into my bare skin like sandpaper. We should head home, but I'm still a little shaken up from Chad's close call. I pull a thin zip-up jacket out of my backpack and put it on.

Jordy hops up on the top of picnic table. He dangles his feet off the end. “You should come up here.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“I know it probably looks scary from down there, but trust me, the view is amazing.”

I laugh. “It's kind of a steep climb. Should we get the gear back out?”

He holds out his hands. “It's okay. I won't let you fall.”

I step up onto the bench and sit on the top of the picnic table next to him. We both look up at the sky. “It
is
different,” I say with a grin. “Look how much closer we are to the stars. Like almost a whole foot.”

“Hey, that's the difference between winning and losing in tennis.”

We both lie flat on the tabletop. “This view is even better,” I say. “More of the sky without that bothersome crick in your neck.”

Jordy adjusts himself so that our hands are even, his fingers twining between mine. He makes small circles on my palm with his thumb. “I can't believe you spent the whole day with me. What'd your mom say about that?”

“I think she's just happy I'm getting out and doing things.”

“How long have you been hiding from the world?”

“Since I was twelve. That's when the roller coaster accident happened and people started to talk. I thought it was weird too—everyone but me dying, everyone but me getting seriously injured. But it wasn't until the food poisoning thing at my friend's birthday party that I really started to believe what they were saying might be true. Then I started thinking back, about other, less serious things that had happened. That's when I started keeping the notebook.”

“So then you've never . . .” Jordy clears his throat. “Had a serious boyfriend?”

“No,” I say. “You're the only guy I've ever kissed.”

He rises up on one elbow and turns to face me. A piece of his hair flops in front of one eye. “You're kidding, right?”

“Why?” I say, a little defensively. “I'm sure there are plenty of sixteen-year-old girls who have never kissed anyone.”

Jordy laughs. “No, I just meant because you're so
good
at it.”

My face burns. “Oh be quiet. You're just saying that.”

“No I'm not.”

“I was just trying to imitate what
you
were doing,” I admit.

“Well, then it's good to know I'm an epic kisser,” Jordy says. “But I feel kind of guilty. If I'd known it was your very first kiss, I would've tried to make it a little more . . . sweet.”

“It was plenty sweet.” Plenty hot, anyway. I blush just thinking about it.

“Yeah, but your first kiss is a big deal. I hope you didn't feel pressured into it. Or awkward because there were a lot of people around.”

I shake my head. “No. It was good.”

“I generally aspire to a higher standard than ‘good.'” Jordy adjusts his body slightly so that he can look me in the eye. “How do you feel about a do-over?” A slow smile spreads across his face. “A second first kiss?”

“Jordy, I don't need a do-over.” My words sound unconvincing even to my own ears. I might not need one, but some part of me wants one. I don't know if I should give in or not. My feelings for him are all confused, a swirly vortex of desire and fear, currently located somewhere between my heart and my stomach.

Instead of replying, he traces both of my eyebrows with his index finger. Then he runs it down past my temple to my
chin and up the other side of my face. My eyes flutter shut. There's a rushing feeling inside of me, like a wave hurrying for the shore. Jordy's finger traces the bridge of my nose and then makes a lazy loop around my lips. He pushes a lock of hair back from my face. The rushing feeling gains intensity. Now my insides are a spaceship blasting into hyperdrive.

He pulls me close, one hand low on my back and the other cradling my head. Our noses brush and then his lips fall softly onto mine, parted slightly. My body collapses against his as he kisses me again. This time is less urgent, but it isn't any less hot. Our mouths connect, disconnect, reconnect, each tiny kiss leaving me wanting more. His lips find my cheek, my earlobe, my neck. He trails kisses down it and across my collarbone. I tremble, but then an image blinks on in my brain: Jordy halfway down the side of the cliff, about to rappel off the end of his rope. Me at the bottom, unable to warn him in time.

My eyes flick open. I slide out from underneath him and hop off the picnic table. The ground feels unsteady under my feet. I stare off into the night, at the scary silhouettes of the Joshua trees, at the wide-open desert, at the mountains I can't even see but know are there. “Just because today turned out okay doesn't mean anything,” I say.

“Maguire.” Jordy's hand is gentle on my shoulder. “I know you're scared, and I know why. I told myself I wasn't even going to touch you today. But I also know you like me,
and I like you too. You ever feel like something is eventually going to happen, no matter how hard you try to fight it?”

Without turning around to look at him, I nod. “Yeah. But for me that something has always been a bad thing.”