“And Andy is the one in the green.”
Andy looked . . . dopey. Muscled and hard and weather worn. But dopey. Like life had intended for him to be inside playing video games, but he got wires crossed somewhere and ended up a world-famous climber. He had his hands tucked into his pockets and leaned over the shoulder of Celine, looking at something Rilla couldn’t see.
“So, is this what we’re doing today?” she asked over her mouthful of cereal.
“Caroline, go over there and talk to her,” Adeena said.
“They’re eating breakfast,” Caroline replied. “I’ve met her, but we’re not like best friends.”
“Yeah, but you’re the most famous of us,” Gage said.
“Being in Climbing Magazine like one time does not make you famous,” Caroline said. “She’s probably never heard of me.”
Petra hopped off the box. “All right, I’ll do it.” Stretching her long legs in a purposeful stride, she headed toward the group.
“May we all have the balls of rich white girls,” Hico said.
Adeena snorted.
They all watched quietly as Petra paused at the edges of the campsite and waited until Celine lifted her head. Whatever she said must have worked.
Rilla leaned forward, fingers curled tight. It seemed ridiculous, but what if Celine would climb with them? What if Rilla could join them?
Petra looked over and waved, while Celine stood out of her chair.
“Does she mean we go there?” Caroline asked, nervously tugging at her shirt.
“All of us?” Adeena said.
“OMG. OMG,” Bea said, smoothing her hair. “We’re going to meet Celine Moreau.”
Rilla stood and dropped to the back of the group, trying not to be noticed, even as she hoped a beam of sunlight would burst out of the clouds and shine on her like a Chosen One.
Petra’s true gifts were never more appreciated by everyone, Rilla included, as they were just then, as Petra took an awkward, gangly group of half-washed climbers and introduced them to the National Geographic team and climbers. Rilla hung at the back, watching in awe as Petra somehow pulled Adeena to the front and talked about her experience on Everest, current education, and future aspirations toward teaching young girls in Pakistan to climb, without making it sound forced or weird. When Adeena was safely in conversation about Gilgit’s street food and the last rainy season—one of the photographers had just returned—Petra grabbed Rilla’s elbow and yanked her to Celine. “From West Virginia,” is all Petra said about her. Though Rilla guessed that’s all there was to say.
Celine’s eyes lit. “Oh, the New is so beautiful. I loved climbing there.”
Rilla fumbled with a reply, shaking hands with her and Andy, while trying not to let on she was new to climbing.
Then, somehow, they all got to stand there, as if they were equals, and Celine was just a newcomer to the Grove as they talked about updated route information, what had been happening in climbing recently, which routes were closed for peregrine falcon nests, and what Celine was planning on climbing.
“I’m going to do some free-climbs on Half Dome,” Celine said. “Maybe a solo attempt if I feel good. But, we’re really here to . . .” She glanced at Andy, a half smile on her face. “We’re getting married at the end of the trip.”
“This is where I grew up climbing,” Andy said with a smile. “We had a small ceremony in France already. But with so much of my family here, we decided it would be perfect to do a bigger wedding here.”
“Of course, any of you are welcome to attend the ceremony,” Celine said. “And we’ll probably be needing some haulers for the climb. We’re sorting all that out now with the team.”
Rilla nodded excitedly with the rest of them, and they all hung on just a little too long before Petra said goodbye and they went back to Abby’s campsite with wild and awkward grins plastered on their faces, at the hope they’d be chosen.
•
By the end of the day, someone had come over and requested climbers by name—Hico, Gage, and Caroline.
“Caroline?” Petra said. “That’s it?”
“Hico, and Gage, and Caroline,” Rilla repeated.
“What the fuck?”
“Oh . . .” Adeena said, blinking at the ground.
Rilla’s chest pinched in disappointment, but she hadn’t really expected to be asked. It was clear she wasn’t the leader. All in all, if it had been her making the decision, the only change she’d make was to sub Adeena for one of the boys.
But Petra was furious, and there was nowhere for her fury to go. “When you’re putting together teams,” she ranted to Adeena, “don’t think that one woman at the top, in front, is what counts for feminism when the whole fucking team is men.” Petra looked over her shoulder at Half Dome. “Ugh . . .” And she stormed off.
Rilla and Adeena stood still, looking at each other.
“I mean, I didn’t think anyone would get chosen,” Rilla said. “If you ask anyone, it’s clear I’m the least experienced.”
“Caroline is the best climber,” Adeena said to Rilla.
“But you’re a better climber than Hico and Gage.” Petra wasn’t, Rilla was realizing. It was strange though—everyone seemed to know Petra wasn’t, but still found her an important part of the group.
“It’s not really climbing so much as hauling,” Adeena said. “I know they probably looked at me and thought I couldn’t wrangle the pig fast enough to keep up. The boys and Caroline make perfect sense.”
“But you can haul!” Rilla said. “I’ve seen you!”
“I know. But maybe not fast enough?” Adeena shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d think the same thing if I were them. Probably.”
“What use is it to complain about it anyway?” Rilla said, kicking at a rock with her toe. “Nothing you can do to change it.”
Adeena laughed. “Oh baby Rilla,” she said smoothing Rilla’s hair like a mom.
Rilla squirmed uncomfortably.
“I will never forget about it. I’m always going to wonder,” Adeena said. “But I agree, there’s nothing to do about it right now. But someday, Petra will be right, I’ll get to decide the team and I’ll remember this moment and give a girl like me a chance.”
Petra had run into Caroline at the edge of the campground and they could see Petra talking, arms moving dramatically.
“Can I ask something?” Rilla asked, hesitant.
“Yeah?” Adeena asked, watching them.
Rilla patted her pockets absently, forgetting she didn’t have smokes on her. “I don’t really get them. How did they meet?”
“Who? Oh, Petra and Caroline?”
“Yeah.”
Petra was still talking. Caroline crossed her arms.
“Same place I met Petra,” Adeena said. “Petra was a volunteer for the competition. Me and Caroline were talking when she introduced herself and started talking about Yosemite.”
Rilla’s stomach turned.
Adeena looked uncomfortable. “I think they hung out a few times and climbed together. But like . . .” She shrugged. “Honestly, I was just excited to come to Yosemite, and Petra doesn’t bother me. I’m the middle child of six—I know how to go with the flow. But I get that other people can’t deal with her personality.”
Rilla understood. Petra was competitive even in places where it wasn’t okay to be competitive. She didn’t do things she wasn’t good at, and she exaggerated how good she was. But at the same time, Petra was the one who’d brought her in and took her climbing. If it weren’t for Petra, Rilla wouldn’t be there now. And if it weren’t for Caroline, Rilla would have never been able to grow as a climber. It was a terrible, icky feeling in the pit of her stomach with no visible resolution.
Adeena looked like she felt the same way. “I want some ice cream. Let’s get ice cream.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Rilla said, and they rushed away from Petra and Caroline.
•
The temperatures rose and the tempe
rs stayed short—especially between Petra and Caroline, now that Caroline was hauling for Celine. Adeena and Rilla just tried to stay out of it and listen sympathetically to Petra’s rants—knowing they all wished they could be on the wall, hauling in the ridiculous heat and sweating like a pig for Celine and Nat Geo photographers. Despite the heat, the crowds grew even thicker, flocking to the dried-up waterfalls and the slow-running Merced.
“It’s just . . . I don’t understand how Petra doesn’t understand that they didn’t mean anything personal by only asking Caroline,” Rilla complained to Walker after Petra had finished complaining to her and had gone back to the Grove. They were stretched out, opposite each other in Walker’s hammock outside his tent. He had his notebook open, sketching, or doodling, as he called it. It’d been a quiet day in a busy week and the first time they’d really gotten to hang out since Celine had arrived. They were both dirty and tired.
Walker’s pencil moved across the paper. “I know, but Celine knows Caroline. Caroline has a reputation in the community. And Hico’s a famous boulderer. Gage is Hico’s partner. Petra and Adeena aren’t known.”
“Adeena climbed Everest when she was younger than me!”
Walker shrugged. “That’s . . . I mean. Women just aren’t as well-known for their accomplishments. I would have asked Adeena. She can haul ass. But I know her, and Celine doesn’t. I would feel pissed if I were Petra too. I’d take it personally too.”
Rilla frowned. “It just . . . it’s like a splinter I can’t get out. Festering and shit.” She plucked at the strings on her shorts.
His knee nudged hers.
“It just seemed like if I climbed as well as everyone else,” Rilla said, “I could have been picked. But Adeena and Petra both climb as well as Hico and Gage. But they weren’t picked.” Petra didn’t climb as well . . . but it felt disloyal to think it, and it still left Adeena on the ground. “Adeena has the most climbing experience of everyone.”
“Except Caroline,” Walker said.
“Okay, but still. Adeena should be up there.”
“This is the first you’re hearing of sexism?” Walker asked with a chuckle.
“Is that what this is?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be bias. Or not.”
She frowned, not feeling any better for the conversation. “Can I see what you’re drawing?”
“No,” he said immediately.
“Please? Is it me? Let me see.” She tried to sit up and look.
“It’s not you.” He clutched the notebook to his chest. “Go away.”
She made a face. “Please?”
“It’s an infographic.”
“A what?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know, like an illustration demonstrating how to do something?”
“What are you demonstrating?” She gave him an exaggerated wink. “Ooh . . .”
“Don’t tell anyone I showed you.” He handed her the notebook.
Settling the leather binding in her lap, she carefully opened the cream pages. A smile split her face. “Walker! It’s so good. And so interesting!” The panels showed setting up a high-line for high-angle rescues. “I guess if you aren’t drawing me, this is acceptable. Why don’t you want people to see?”
“I just don’t like people knowing.”
“Well.” She fought the urge to turn all the pages, and handed the book back. “You’re very good.”
He shrugged and tossed the book to the picnic table. Sliding his hand up her leg, he gripped the back of her calf. “Ugh, it’s hot.”
They were surrounded by people, in the afternoon light, in a Valley bursting at the seams with tourists. Walker tipped his mouth up, eyes sparkling. “Want to go for a swim?”
She grinned and swung her legs over the side of the hammock. “Let’s go.”
They crossed the road and ducked into the woods, tramping through the pine needles to come out onto the sandy bank of the Merced. The river glimmered cool and clear in the afternoon sunshine, and the air smelled like dry, warm pine. Despite the busyness of the Valley, they found the river mostly quiet and only a few visitors with small children farther up where it was shallow.
“I needed a shower anyway,” Walker said, pulling off his T-shirt and hat, and dropping them on a fallen tree along the water’s edge. They were shaded from the brutal afternoon sun, but the river was bright from the sun coming through the pines and reflecting off the granite rising above them on all sides.
“That’s disgusting,” Rilla said, adding her T-shirt to the log. “Rivers don’t count as a shower. Only pools.”
“I like your tan lines,” Walker said with a chuckle, gaze flickering across her neck and shoulders.
She stuck her tongue out. “You’re mean.” Between running and climbing and spending most of her days outside, no matter how much sunscreen she put on, she had a deep tan and a crisscross of sport bra tan lines.
“No, I’m serious,” he said. “They’re hot.”
She rolled her eyes and waded in. The water was crisp and cold, soothing her aching feet.
“Ah,” Walker breathed, walking straight into the current. The muscles in his back and sides rippled under his tanned skin and the water licked up his torso.
Rilla stood ankle deep, motionless, and her mouth was suddenly dry.
He put his hands together above his head and made a shallow dive into the darkest part of the pool, disappearing under the water.
This was a dream. This couldn’t possibly be real. Rilla blinked rapidly and sucked in a deep breath of the dry hot air. Holy shit. This was her life.
Walker resurfaced downstream, shaking the water from his face before he looked back at her. “Come on,” he called. “It feels good.”
Rilla’s heart pounded in her neck and chest, but she walked into the water, trying very hard not to trudge into the current, but glide like some effortless water nymph. By the time it reached her hips, the pull was so strong, she surrendered—sinking under its calm surface and kicking her legs out like a frog to swim across the current and reach him in the middle of the deep pool, where the river slowly bent.
“Hey girl,” he said, smile wide as she floated to him. His blue eyes were lit with the light bouncing off the granite walls—so beautiful they took her breath away. Rilla would never ever forget this moment, she was sure.
“Where are you going?” he asked, reaching his hand out.
She blushed—she’d been so distracted, she’d forgotten to keep swimming against the current. She kicked off the rocky bottom and swam back toward him.
He grinned, pulling her arm under his.
Rilla wrapped her arm around his back and without even thinking, pulled her legs around his stomach.
“This really is the best way to drown,” he said, bobbing under the combined weight—long arms moving under the water to keep them afloat.
“Ah, I’m sorry!” Rilla blushed harder, loosening her legs to let him go.
“No, I want to die.” He half laughed, half groaned, as he stopped treading water and gripped her hips, pulling her legs back. His head dipped under and they were picking up speed in the current.
He was kidding about drowning, but it wouldn’t be long until it wasn’t a joke. Rilla pushed away from his chest, legs slipping out from his grip, ducking under the water to swim away.
“I’m cold now,” Walker called when she resurfaced downstream. “Come back.”
“I’ll race you back upstream,” she said, leaning back in the current. Her toes lifted out of the water and she stared past them to the Sentinel, standing like a massive throne in the afternoon light. If there was a heaven, she imagined it was this—hot air, cold mountain water, overlooking granite, and a boy swimming her direction.
“What do I get if I win?”
She shrugged, too embarrassed to suggest anything she’d like him to win.
“Do I get to see all your tan lines?” he asked.
She laughed—partially from embarrassment and par
tially from the thrill of joy that ran up her spine.
“We’ll see,” she said, twisting in the water to ready to swim. “On your mark. Get set.”
She started swimming.
“Hey!” He hollered.
She couldn’t help but laugh—which made it hard to swim. She’d had a good head start and managed to stay ahead, kicking and trying not to laugh.
He grabbed her ankle, but she kicked away, laughing and getting a mouthful of river water as a consequence.
“Come here, cheater,” he growled, grabbing her arm with one hand and shoving her head straight down with the other.
Water filled her mouth and she choked, kicking away. A hot panic tightened on her ribs and she suddenly could think of nothing but Curtis’s fingers digging into her shoulder as he held her down and hit her in the face.
When she resurfaced, coughing and pushing her hair away from her face, Walker was on the bank, laughing. He stopped as soon as he saw her. “Are you okay?”
She coughed, and found she could stand on the bottom. Her hands trembled and her heart raced. She was okay. She was okay. But for the first time, she realized she wasn’t okay. Not really. Was this always going to happen?
Walker rushed back into the river, patting her on the back. “I’m sorry. You all right?”
She nodded, gulping back her tears. She couldn’t cry in front of him.
“You sure? What happened?”
Rilla shook her head, unable to talk for the fear that had wedged itself into her throat.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her tight against him and leading her to the bank.
“I’m okay,” she managed on dry land.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, lightly touching her waist.
“It’s fine. It wasn’t you. Don’t worry about it,” she said, swinging her hair over her shoulder to gather it from where the lengths were plastered down her back. He still touched her waist, thumb rubbing against her skin.
“Did you just choke on the water?”
She bit her lip and shrugged, watching the river.
“Rilla,” he said softly.
She closed her eyes against the threat of tears. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed,” she chuckled, even as the tears dropped to her cheeks.
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