by Karina Halle
The envy I’m feeling at this moment is incomparable. It sickens me, straight into my bones, and I hold my breath, trying to ignore and listen at the same time. I’ve touched her before, felt her skin beneath mine; I’ve seen her eyes roll back in her head because of something I gave her. I felt that sexual, feverish frenzy that enslaved us both.
And now she’s with someone else who can have that same thing anytime he wants.
But it wouldn’t be the same. It can’t be. I know I’m acting like a bit of a chump thinking this, but that one night, it was far more special than any of that shit they’re doing. It has to be. Gemma’s face when she looks at Nick, it’s not the same as it was with me. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why someone like her is with someone like him. They look good together on the surface—all fit and wholesome as shit—but what about underneath?
Thankfully Nick doesn’t try to harass Gemma anymore, and the two of them quickly lapse into silence.
I lapse into a fitful, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Seven
WAITOMO
JOSH
BANG.
“Son of a fuck!”
One moment I’m in the abyss, the next I’m on my back on the floor of the bus, staring up at the blue tent above me, my vision spinning until it corrects itself. Pain radiates from everywhere.
What the fuck just happened? Did I just fall out of the bunk? I haven’t fallen out of bed since I was a wee shit at swim camp.
Amber pokes her head over the edge, absolute fear sharpening her angelic features while her golden hair spills over her. “Oh my fucking hell!” she swears. “Are you okay?”
I groan. “No.” Nothing’s broken. I lift my head and hear the peal of laughter from outside the bus. I sit up and see Nick just outside the door, hunched over from laughing too hard, tears in his eyes.
I want to be annoyed but I have to admit it’s kind of funny. Or it will be, once the pain of my bruised ass begins to wear off. I guess I should be thankful that Gemma and Nick got up early and had already put their bed away, or else I would have landed on them.
That said, I do mourn the chance of crushing his spine.
It isn’t long before we’re packed up and heading toward the caves, this time with Nick behind the wheel and Gemma beside him. It feels weird to leave a campsite we’ll only be returning to later, and I make a joke about defending our fort from pirates.
Gemma doesn’t smile. She doesn’t even seem to hear me. She stares out the window as we make our way down the winding road, the thick canopy of trees on both sides slowly lit by the morning sun. Everyone else seems to be in good spirits; Amber hums to some song and Nick is less douchey as we approach the meeting point for our adventure.
We’re a little bit late and the tour group has already gathered in the gravel parking lot beside a van splashed with pictures of people smiling and having all the fun you can have while being in a cave. We pile out of it and are met by an instructor who reminds me of Tibald—all gums and good vibes.
There are only four other people in our group—two couples just a bit older than us, which makes me and Amber seem like we’re paired together. A couples trip. The idea doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but it doesn’t seem right either.
The guide, who introduces himself as Blair, gets us to fork over our cash and sign some waiver sheets before outfitting us with helmets, wet suits, and what look like wrestling shoes, all white and flexible. There’s a damp chill in the air, even though it’s about ten a.m. and some of the sun is spilling over the verdant forest and onto us.
He explains to us that we’ll be in water only about ten to fifteen degrees Celsius, which isn’t very warm, even by Canadian standards, and though we’ll be guided, the expedition will test anyone with a fear of heights or dark, enclosed spaces.
I’m not a fan of either of those things. When I went into the Sky Tower with Tibald and the Germans, I didn’t go near the windows, let alone the section of the floor that was made of glass. And the idea of being trapped in a dark, small place makes me feel breathless.
But I don’t dare say anything. Fears are meant to be faced, meant to be overcome. At least that’s what I tell myself when my only other option is shitting my pants.
Within ten minutes, we’re armed with our equipment and marching through the dense, green bush, heading toward the unknown. I’m walking right behind Gemma and I find myself wondering if she has any fears at all. She seems so . . . in control. Fearless.
I’m also having trouble tearing my eyes away from her body. Her ass sashays a bit when she walks, just enough to draw your eyes. Her waist is narrow and begs me to put my hands around it, and her long legs are both strong and feminine. I remember the way they wrapped around my waist as I pushed into her, how sweet and tight she was inside and out.
I have to stop thinking like this—it isn’t helping. I keep walking, training my gaze on the back of her head instead, but even then my fingers long to brush through her hair and feel the silky strands between my fingers. She’s so close but I can’t touch her.
Ten minutes later we’ve stopped in the middle of the forest beside what looks to be two outhouses. We take turns getting changed into our swim gear we were told to bring, then head back out to put on the wet suits. Nothing like fumbling into a damp, skin-tight sausage casing in public.
Gemma is wearing a rather modest bikini with boy shorts, and I should know better than to stare at her, but I can’t help it. I can feel Nick’s eyes boring a hole into mine, and I quickly look away at Amber, who is dressed in a one-piece. She’s not as crazy fit as Gemma but she still looks pretty good, with curves in all the right places.
Now Amber is looking up at me, catching me staring at her body, and she gives me a little smile. It’s more coy than shy, and right then I know she’s getting the wrong idea. I give her a quick smile back.
“Listen up,” Blair says, clapping his hands together. “When you’re all suited up, make sure to slip on your helmets. I’ll come by and make sure everyone is done up correctly. Then I’ll quickly go over the abseiling technique and we’ll make our descent.”
I raise my hand. “Uh, descent into where?”
He smiles and makes a sweeping gesture to the forest behind him. “Just over there.”
There’s nothing but ferns at first glance, but when I stare a bit longer I can see the shades and heights of the greenery change.
Once we put on our helmets, complete with a light on top, and look like a bunch of scuba-diving astronauts, Blair does a quick demonstration on abseiling technique. And when I say quick, I mean, like, lawsuit-ready quick. Something about keeping a steady grip on the rope and your knees relaxed and trying not to plummet to your death. That’s all I get out of it.
I look at everyone else in the group but they seem more excited than worried as Blair leads us over to the place he was gesturing toward earlier.
The ground in front of us opens up into a wide hole in the ground, a very mini version of the Grand Canyon filled with ferns and other prehistoric-looking plants. There are no hobbits here but I wouldn’t be surprised if a velociraptor came darting out of the bushes.
There’s the distinct smell of fresh water wafting up toward us and the sound of it babbling from somewhere down below. When I gather the courage to step closer to the edge and look over, I can see the ropes are already in place. Down where the canyon seems to disappear under the lip of a rock, there’s a stack of inner tubes. I have to remind myself that these tours run several times a day, every day.
I’m not going to die.
But it’s not long before I’m tempting death and Blair is hooking me up to the ropes. I don’t know why he’s chosen me to go first; maybe because I’m the tallest and most expendable.
Or because I’m Canadian.
I can’t back out now. I’m hanging off the side of the cliff, my feet
against the rock face, trying to keep my knees from locking. I’m gripping the rope for dear life and I’ve forgotten everything that Blair has said. The only thing I can see is Gemma, peering over the edge at me. All the other faces, all the other voices, meld together until they’re nothing.
But she’s there. Watching me with concern, with wonder. A few strands of dark hair hang loose against her cheekbones, and I remember brushing my fingers along her skin, pushing her hair away. I don’t think I’ll ever stop comparing that night—what we were—with what we are now.
In some ways, I wish I had never slept with her. Then I could appreciate being with her more, revel in her company, in getting to know her. But I can’t even do that, because I already feel like I know her. I’ve come inside her mouth. She’s come into mine. I’ve felt her heartbeat beneath me. So much intimacy in such a short amount of time.
And now I’m forced to start at square one, and it’s killing me that there’s this distance, that I’m hanging from this rope and going into the abyss alone while she watches with her boyfriend by her side. I’m falling, slowly and controlled for now, but I’m still going down.
I wonder if she’ll follow.
She at least follows into the canyon.
As soon as my feet reach the ground and I let go of the rope, unhooking myself, Blair is readying it for her. I step back and stare up at her as she descends with ease. She has obviously been abseiling before.
When she lands, light on her feet, and it’s just us two, I have a very Neanderthal moment, imagining we’re Adam and Eve. I could just scoop her up in my arms and run into the cave with her and we could start a new life in this secret little world.
But Nick is next, blasting down the ropes like a stripper on a pole, and he gives Gemma a hard high five, accompanied by a few Tom Cruise-ish hoots and an “Aw yeah, awesome!” If I let my real caveman come out, I would have to club him over the head with a rock and steal her from right under his nose.
Soon we’re all gathered on the overgrown canyon floor and Blair is leading us toward the stack of inner tubes. Once we’ve each picked one up and swung it on our shoulders, we’re told to flick on our headlamps and follow him into the cave.
It smells like, well, like a cave—dank and earthy—and while at first there’s a lot of height to the ceiling, it gradually slopes lower and lower until we’re all hunched over. The sound of water increases to a roar, and through the glow of our headlights I catch glimpses of a river. The light from the outside world is far away, a dim glow of blue at the end of the cave.
I shiver. “Has anyone seen the movie The Descent?”
Amber glares at me, her face washed out against my lamp. “Shut the fuck up, don’t talk about that movie while we’re in here.”
Blair laughs. “Every day, someone brings that film up. Well, rest assured, we aren’t going to be squeezing into any tight spots, and there are no creepy half-man, half-animal blind cannibals hiding in the dark. Besides,” he says, reaching forward and grabbing Gemma’s biceps, “it looks like Gemma here can take care of them herself.”
Gemma gives him a small smile at the slight intrusion, but Nick immediately smacks Blair’s hand off of her, stepping in between them with his chest out and his neck muscles all strained and ropey.
“Hey, ease off,” he snarls, getting in Blair’s face.
And I thought I was the caveman here.
Blair’s eyes go wide and he raises his palms in surrender. “No harm, mate. I was just saying she’s pretty strong. No monsters will mess with her.”
Nick jabs his finger into Blair’s chest and I hear someone in the back of the cave suck in their breath. “She’s not yours to touch.”
I exchange a look with Amber, both of us uncomfortable as hell. Everyone is, especially Gemma, who is going beet red and looks like she wants the ceiling to collapse on her.
“Nick, it’s fine,” she says, her voice low but harsh, like she doesn’t want to bring further attention to herself. “Just forget it.”
Nick doesn’t seem to hear her. He stares at Blair for a beat before jerking his head at him like a posturing dog. Then he turns around, putting his arm around Gemma and leading her away to the back of the pack.
Now, I’ll admit that I’m naturally a jealous person. I’ve gotten in fights over ex-girlfriends before, I don’t like it when guys hit on my woman, and I can be fairly possessive—if she’s mine, she’s mine. That said, I could see that Blair meant no harm, and I wonder if Nick is always blowing his top like this around her, or if it’s a new thing. Gemma doesn’t seem like the type of person to put up with it.
Then again, maybe the Gemma I met in Vancouver wasn’t really her at all. What did she say about Halloween again? Everyone wants to pretend to be someone else? I put that revelation away for now.
Blair attempts to shake it off, though as he addresses us for the rafting procedures, he avoids looking in their direction. I’m barely listening to him myself. I look over my shoulder at Nick and Gemma. He’s still staring at Blair with murder in his eyes, but Gemma briefly looks at me. I give her a sympathetic smile that she doesn’t return. Her eyes shine dully in my light.
“All right, let’s do this,” Blair says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s do four to a group, which seems to work out perfectly here. I’ll take the lead.”
Blair walks to the edge of the black river with his tube. I look to Amber, feeling like I missed something. “Wait, what’s going on?”
She rolls her eyes. “Way to pay attention.” She peers at Nick and Gemma. “Were you guys at least listening?”
They stare at her blankly. She sighs and looks even smaller under the weight of her helmet. “When we get in the river, we have to attach to each other by hooking our legs on each other’s shoulders.”
I glance at the gently rolling water and observe the other four in our group, trying to sit in their tubes and splashing awkwardly in the water.
“Come on,” Blair yells at us, now sitting comfortably in the black tube and holding on to the riverbank with one hand, his white boots glowing against the black. “You don’t want to be left behind.”
Seeing that we’re in near-pitch dark except for our headlamps, which paints the rugged and slick cave walls in an eerie glow, while an underground river rushes past us and disappears into the fathomless depths of the cave, no, it’s not a place we want to be left behind in.
Amber goes in first and shrieks a bit as she steps into the water. I follow behind, and even with the wet suit it’s still a sharp, biting cold that seeps under my skin. It’s a bit unnerving to be going into water where you can’t see the bottom at all. Everything is unnerving right now.
Getting into the tube itself is also a bit of a challenge, but once I’m in I do as the others did and hook my legs over Amber’s shoulder. She grabs hold of my calves, holding me to her, which in turn keeps the rim of my inner tube pressed against hers.
To my relief, it’s Gemma who comes floating from behind, bumping into me. I turn my head and try to glance at her. Without my light shining directly on her she’s cast in shadow, but I can see the whites of her eyes reflecting in the dark.
“Wanna hook up?” I ask playfully.
I can tell she’s smiling. That’s something.
“You can have my legs,” she says as she carefully places the backs of her knees on my shoulders. I wrap my hands around her calves, holding her firmly to me. It shouldn’t be strangely intimate, and yet it is. I half expect Nick to tell me off for touching her, but there’s not much he can do about it here.
“This is like a PG version of the human centipede,” I joke, to which Amber laughs.
“Seriously Josh, you have the worst taste in movies,” she shouts back at me, her tone flirty.
“Hey, I’m not saying they’re good films,” I protest.
“Stop your yapping and hurry up,” Blair yells
from somewhere up front, his voice echoing off the walls. “We’re ready.”
“I’m going to punch that fucker,” Nick growls from the back, still sore over what happened earlier.
Gemma’s legs tense under my grip. “Nick, stop.”
“All right guys,” Blair says, projecting his voice so it reaches us. “Lean back and let the current take you. I’ll be in the front, leading the way. Keep your arms inside the tubes at all times and hold on to your partner. If you bump into the wall or get stuck, just gently push off. If anyone starts panicking, just call out and we’ll all stop. It’s going to get very dark, very narrow, and very low in places, but the cave opens up often, so there’s always relief. So keep your heads back and look for the glowworms. Enjoy the black-water rafting.”
There’s a twinge in my stomach as the adrenaline builds. I tighten my grip on Gemma’s calves and she gently presses them into my chest.
We float, slowly at first, moving together as one, like a giant fish. It doesn’t seem possible but it really is getting darker, so dark that even the light from our headlamps seems to be swallowed up. No one is talking but I can hear their breaths echoing off the low walls. Even though the water is cold, Gemma’s contact keeps me warm. All I can think about is how close she is, and I lament the layer of wet suit between my hands and her skin. I want to feel her again. This is my only chance. I slowly run my hands up and down her shins, gently squeezing her calves as I go.
I know I shouldn’t be doing it. I know it’s risky, wrong. It’s not a friendly gesture, and I think she knows that. But I’m still doing it, still massaging her as she’s draped over me, with her own boyfriend draped over her. With each press, I’m trying to tell her something in case she doesn’t know it.
I want her even though I know I can’t have her.
But it doesn’t change anything. So I keep feeling her as much as I can while the river below us twists and turns until a collective “oooh” rings out from in front of us. The walls above us suddenly widen and it feels like I’m staring at a giant night sky.