by KD Robichaux
I SLEPT LIKE THE dead last night, after the excitement of Corbin showing up at the gym unexpectedly. We spent the two hours working mostly on bouldering techniques on the forty-five-degree-angled wall. No ropes or harnesses, just me teaching him different ways to handle a route when gravity was fighting against you. With the pit of regrind beneath us, there was no worry of getting hurt. Just frustration when we’d lose our grip or footing and would fall into the ground-up tires. He had the advantage of massive upper body strength, so he could virtually monkey-bar his way across the wall if he needed to, but that meant he would wear out faster than me, who used less strength and smarter moves to beat a route.
I’d gotten so used to praise for my climbing abilities. I never really knew how to respond to people’s admiration, and usually just said thank you and waved off their compliments. But for some reason, under Corbin’s impressed and admiring eyes, it meant more to me than anyone else before.
Climbing was always something I did for myself. It made me feel good doing something I was talented at. I joined the competitive team, not for the competition itself, but just to test myself. Could I keep up with all of these veteran climbers, who traveled from out of state to gather here and see just who among them were the best of the best? I wasn’t in it to win any trophies or titles. I just wanted to see how good at this sport I actually was, seeing how I only did it for fun. When I found out I scored better than my coach, that was pretty mind-boggling. But even that moment didn’t compare to the silent but intense way Corbin followed me with his eyes, seemingly spellbound. It also made me feel pretty great knowing that I impressed him—a big, strong, badass soldier.
The day has gone by torturously slow. Every time I glance at the clock on the classroom wall, thinking it’s almost time for the bell to ring, it’s only been a few short minutes. I haven’t been able to concentrate worth a crap, but thankfully, being a senior, and with SATs already out of the way, there isn’t much to worry about.
Graduation is next month, and it can’t come fast enough. I’m going to the community college starting in the fall. I’m not really sure what I want to major in, but I have a lot of time to figure that out while I take care of all my core classes first. I’ve never really aspired to be anything. When I was little, when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said I wanted to be my mom. To me, nothing could be greater than spending all day taking care of your babies, who love you as much as I love my momma. Being a mom seemed to make her so happy, and that was the most important thing to me—not being rich or famous, or whatever.
Finally, the last bell rings, and I hurry to my locker to grab my stuff before running outside. Mom is usually one of the first cars in the pick-up line, since she knows I like to get to Rock On as early as possible. I hop into her car, throw my bag on the floorboard, and click my seat belt in place, pulling down the visor to look in the mirror.
When I pull my makeup bag out of the front pocket of my backpack, my mom turns to look at me oddly. “What in the world are you doing?” she asks, eyebrows pulled down low.
“What do you mean?” I play dumb, swiping mascara onto my lashes when she stops at a light.
“Why the hell are you putting on makeup when you’re about to be at the gym for six hours? Better yet, why are you putting on makeup at all? You never wear makeup. Something that’s made your daddy very happy for the past four years.” She accelerates gently when the light turns green, allowing me to finish up the other eye before putting the mascara away and grabbing my concealer.
“Nothing. I just… I noticed I looked a little pasty in the bathroom at school today, so I’m just putting on a little something so I don’t look sickly,” I tell her.
“Uh huh. And it has nothing to do with that adorable little soldier boy who came back to see you yesterday?” She smirks, raising a brow.
“Adorable little soldier boy, Mom? Really? He’s a badass Army man,” I duck her question.
“He’s adorable. I want to put him in my pocket and carry him around with me so I can pull him out every once in a while, to pet his cute little bald head,” she says in a baby voice, making my eyes widen in horror. She laughs when she sees my face. “He’s twenty, doll. He’s almost half the age of your big brother. It’s all right if I call him adorable.”
“Just swear not to do it to his face,” I beg, pinkening my cheekbones with a dab of blush.
“I can’t make any promises,” she teases, mischief in her bright blue eyes when I glance her way, making me groan.
As she pulls into the gym’s lot and parks, I hop out with my bag, but then duck back into the car to hiss, “Behave,” when I see Corbin standing propped against his Camaro on the other row of parking spaces.
Mom glances in her rearview mirror at him and grins. “Cute little guy,” she says, giggling when my eyes narrow at her before I shut the door, standing up straight to smile at Corbin over the roof of Mom’s Cavalier as he approaches.
“You got off early.” I smile as he comes around, immediately pulling me into a hug, and I’m instantly filled with the sense of coming home after a long time away. My face automatically goes into the crook of his neck and I breathe him in. His scent is intoxicating. I can tell he’s wearing a familiar cologne, but mixed with his chemistry, it’s combined to make a unique scent that does unfamiliar things to my body.
“I snuck out. I worked through my lunch hour, so all my shit is done for the day, but I bolted before they could give me anything else to do. But now I’m starving,” he adds.
“I only had fries for lunch,” I confess, getting pushed away from his body to the sight of his furrowed brows over concerned dark eyes. “I was too excited to see you and it gave me a nervous belly. I could totally eat now, though.”
“I could go grab y’all something if you like,” Mom offers, having overheard us as she came around the front of her car.
“I’ll buy if you fly, ma’am,” Corbin tells her, and she smiles at him.
“Deal, but only if you stop calling me ma’am. It’s either Eva or Mom, and usually Vi’s friends go with the latter.” She holds out her hand when he pulls out cash from his wallet. “What do y’all want?”
“Chinese,” Corbin replies, at the same time I yip, “Kyoto’s!” and we turn to look at each other. I grin as his face softens. “Jinx,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
“Not exactly, but I’ll still count it,” Mom inserts, pulling our attention back to her. “Kyoto’s it is. Chicken rice bowl with white sauce for you, doll?”
“Yes, please,” I answer, wanting my usual.
“I’ll take the same but add beef too, please. And there should be enough there to cover whatever you want too,” Corbin tells her, and to my utter dismay, she reaches out and rubs the top of his shiny head.
“See, Vi? Adorable.” She winks at me before circling back to get into her car, my mouth hanging open and my cheeks burning as I turn to look at Corbin, who is grinning.
“Your mom thinks I’m adorable,” he whispers, as she backs out of her spot.
“I am so freaking sorry. She’s getting crazier with age,” I breathe, but he chuckles.
“No, this is good. She thinks I’m adorable. Everyone knows the first step is to win over the mother,” he tells me, and I tilt my head.
“The first step in what?” I inquire.
“In getting the girl.” And with that, he grasps my hand and tugs me toward the entrance of the gym, with me smiling like a fool while trying to hide it with my long hair.
I grab the pen off the desk and sign my name on the clipboard before handing it to Corbin, hurrying off to the bathroom to change out of my school uniform. I shove my clothes into my bag, grabbing my hairbrush out of the front pocket. I pull my hair into its customary high ponytail, taking more time than usual to make sure it’s actually straight and smooth on top of my head. “Well, this is about as good as it’s gonna get,” I tell my reflection, quoting Mia from The Princess Diaries, and then I grab my bag and
head out the door to put it all in my cubby.
“So what do you want to do first?” I ask Corbin, tying my chalk bag around my hips. When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him, and find his eyes narrowed on me. “What?” I grow self-conscious, wondering if I have something hanging out of my nose.
“You look different,” he says, taking a step closer.
“Um… I bathed? You haven’t seen me not covered in chalk before,” I tell him, playing dumb.
He takes another step forward, his head tilted a little, as his eyes burn into me, making me squirm. “You doll yourself up for me, baby girl?” he asks, his voice low.
My eyes widen before I look away, unable to meet his, as I lie, “What? No! You’ve just never seen me before I start climbing for the day is all.”
When I finally look him in those gorgeous chocolaty pools, he smirks. “Okay, Vi,” he says softly, “but just for future reference, I think you’re absolutely perfect, covered in chalk, unbathed, messy hair… just the way you are, sweetheart. So in case you ever feel you need to doll yourself up to impress me, just know you don’t have to. I’m already impressed.”
I feel my face soften, and all I can do is nod.
“But to answer your original question, how about you finally teach me this ‘Takeaway’ game you told me about?” he suggests, and I jump on it like a lifeline.
“Okay! I love Takeaway!” I grab his arm and drag him over to one of the moderate-level walls, and then pull out my stick of chalk from inside my chalk bag. “So here’s what you do. Whoever starts will take their turn making their way across the wall. When they make it to the end, they get to ‘take away’ one of the rocks by circling it with the chalk. The next person goes, and they aren’t allowed to use any of the circled holds. It starts out super easy, but eventually….” I grin, seeing he’s got the gist. “If one of the climbers falls, the other climber has to make it in order to be named the winner. If both fall, you each get to try again… until there is only one,” I say the last part in my best action-movie trailer voice.
He laughs, shaking his head at me. “Sweet. Okay, baby girl. Ladies first.” He gestures to the wall and I put the stick of chalk in his hand, turning to start the game.
I make it across in three moves, choosing to use the big, easy jugs while I can. I take the chalk, circling one of the huge handholds in the center, and Corbin takes his place at the start.
I stand back and admire him from behind, loving the way his muscles ripple beneath all those tattoos. I wonder why he’s got so many already, seeing as he’s only twenty. Did he really get two sleeves and a chest piece all within just two years?
His wife beater fits him like a second skin, showing off the muscles in his back working as he makes his way across the wall. When he finishes and turns to take the chalk from me, he catches me checking out his ass, and my face heats. He doesn’t say anything though, just smirks as he chooses the rock he wants to take away.
“Your turn,” he tells me, and I swiftly boulder from one end to the other, avoiding the rocks we circled. This time I choose to take away a foothold, bending down almost to the floor to circle one of the rocks. When I turn around to face him, his eyes are on my lower half. I squeak then giggle, swatting at his arm. “What? You’re allowed to check out my ass, but I’m not allowed to look at yours?” he teases.
I scoff. “Hey, you checked out mine on day one, thank you very much!”
“Ah, you caught that, did you? I was wondering what you’d tripped over. Guess it was nothing.” He chuckles, and I point at the wall.
“Go!” I try to sound stern, but I can’t help but laugh.
The game continues, the option of grips and footholds slowly dwindling until there are barely enough to get across. It’s Corbin’s turn when my mom returns with our food, and she sets it on the picnic table next to the wall we’re playing on, sitting down to watch the final couple rounds of our game.
He makes it the two moves to the middle, squatting down low, since we’ve taken away anything higher, and then leans away from the wall, trying to see where the next handhold is to his right. It’s way out of reach, and I smile to myself, realizing he hasn’t noticed the mini-jug above, right below the eight-foot bouldering line drawn across the wall, marking the height you’re allowed to climb without being on a rope. I don’t say anything though. Oh no, I want my bragging rights if I can beat the big, bad soldier.
He readies himself, his muscles bunching, preparing to spring. And when he does, I’m surprised he’s able to grasp the rock in his hand, but he misses the foothold and lands on the floor. “Ah shit,” he growls, but then laughs, looking up at me. “Your turn, baby girl. I don’t see how you’re gonna make it though. You’re good, but I don’t know if you’re that good. I will bow down if you do.”
Won’t that be a sight to see, I smirk to myself, reaching into my chalk bag to get a fresh coat on my hands.
I get in the ready position, taking a deep breath, knowing this is the moment of truth. This is the feeling I live for. People underestimate me. They look at me and they just see a slight, plain Jane, thinking nothing of me. This… this is what I love. Getting to show people I’m so much more, at least on the rocks.
I swiftly make it the two moves to the middle, and then rechalk my hands, my heart pounding. But where Corbin had only squatted down enough to bring his body level with grips, I crouch much lower, until my arms are out straight above my head and my ass is nearly on the floor, my feet pressing into the tiny chips screwed into the wall.
“What is she doing?” I hear Corbin mumble to my mom, but I don’t hear her answer, tuning everything out but me and the wall.
My eyes glance way up and to the right, seeing the faded olive-green mini-jug I’m aiming for. My heart races as the rest of the world seems to slow down, my focus turning internal, zeroing in on the small but powerful muscles in my legs, the mighty strength in my delicate-looking fingers. I can do this.
And with one last pull of air in through my nose, at the moment I force it out through my lips, it seems to send me skyward like a rocket as I lunge for the rock, all of my muscles working together. In one fast, powerful jump up from the low position, I spring like a Jack-in-the-Box as I nail my target, sticking the dyno perfectly with my right hand.
I hear my mom’s loud yip along with Corbin’s, “What the fuck?!” as my left foot comes to rest on the rock my right hand had left open. I chalk up my left hand before switching my grip on the mini-jug to do the same to my right, and then finish out the route in two more quick moves. I jump from the wall and twirl, my ponytail swinging out from my head and coming to rest on my chest as I land, grinning from ear to ear as I see his shocked face.
Next thing I know, his hard body is pressed to mine as he lifts me in the air, spinning me around and making me laugh. “What the hell was that?” he exclaims. “That was fucking awesome! You gotta teach me! Teach me your ways, great and powerful Spidergirl.”
When he sets me on my feet, I take a step back, lift a brow, and point to the ground in front of his rented climbing shoes. “I do believe you said you would bow down if I made it,” I say haughtily, but then giggle, not expecting him to actually do it. But to my utter surprise, and Mom’s fit of laughter, Corbin drops to his knees, raises his delicious, bulging, tattoo-covered arms above his head, then bows face-to-floor, chanting “We’re not worthy,” mimicking Garth on Wayne’s World. It sets off my own full-body laugh, seeing the mostly serious, sinfully sexy man before me being a goofball for once.
When he stands, a heart-stopping smile across his gorgeous face, he brushes his hands together sending chalk into the air. But then suddenly, his eyes narrow, and his smile fades, and I think something is wrong, until…
“Achoo!” He sneezes right as he covers it with his wife beater, the lower half of his face disappearing into the neckline of his shirt.
“Weaksauce. I give it a five out of ten,” I say, and then spin on my heel, starting toward the bathrooms to go wash my ha
nds.
Suddenly, Corbin is beside me, and asks, “What is that all about? The scoring thing?”
“Oh, they’ve done it since before I started coming here. I guess the owner is an atheist or something and got tired of hearing ‘bless you’ a million times a day, so he started scoring people’s sneezes as a joke. I’ve only been around one perfect ten before. My teammate Joshua came to practice when he had a sinus infection, and when he sneezed, the biggest, greenest snot bubble ballooned out of his nose in front of everybody. It was disgusting and fascinating at the same time,” I reply, and he chuckles at my shudder.
We each go into our designated bathroom to wash our hands, and then meet back at the picnic table, where Mom has spread out all our dinner for us. I take a seat on the bench where she’s set my bowl of rice covered in hibachi chicken with four lidded containers of white sauce. Corbin sits next to me, and he looks at the thick condiment questioningly as I empty the first one onto my chicken.
“What is that stuff?” he asks, grabbing a fork and tearing it free of the clear plastic wrapper.
“White sauce,” I say, licking the remnants from the inside of the little bowl, unconsciously letting out a small moan.
“White sauce?” he repeats, his brow arching and a smirk forming on his lips.
“Mmmmm. Mmm-hmm. I could do shots of this stuff. I think they also call it yum-yum sauce in other places,” I tell him, dumping a second container on top of the chicken.
“You’d like shots of yum-yum sauce… in your mouth,” he states, and coughs when I nod.
“It’s so delicious. Have you never tried it before?” I ask, before licking that one clean too.
“Nope, can’t say I’ve taken white sauce to the face before,” he says, his voice tight, as if trying not to laugh.
Suddenly, my hand stops midair as I’m about to dump a third one onto my dinner, and when it clicks in my head why he sounds like that, my face jerks toward him, my mouth and eyes wide open, and my cheeks flaming red. And that’s when he and my mother both burst into laughter.