I got to school early and waited for Kaitlyn by her locker.
She took one look at me and said, “Were you up all night packing?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going. Not anytime soon anyway. It’s okay. Thank you for being such a good friend. I would miss you so much if I left.”
We hugged each other tight.
“Girly hug! Girly hug!” Nick wrapped his arms around both of us and jumped up and down.
We laughed and shrugged him off.
“Okay, I heard that you are still dateless for Sadie Hawkins, and I have the solution,” Nick said. “You should go with my brother Nate.”
Kaitlyn and I both opened our mouths in shocked disgust.
“Ew,” Kaitlyn said.
“No way,” I said.
Nick looked hurt. “What’s wrong with my brother?”
“You know very well what’s wrong with your arrogant ass of a brother. No offense,” Kaitlyn said.
“No way,” I said again.
“Fine, who’s it going to be then?”
Kaitlyn and I looked at each other. I shrugged and said, “I’m just not going.”
“You have to go,” Kaitlyn said.
“You could ask Jake,” Nick said, snickering. “You’d make his day. No, you would make his life. He’d be the talk of his school. The first middle schooler asked to a high school dance. And you only come up to like his belly button. It’d be like—”
I held up my hand. “Not funny.”
“So not funny,” Kaitlyn said.
And we linked arms and marched down the hall.
My stomach convulsed all the way to Algebra II. I spotted Tom as soon as I walked in, but I quickly looked away. When I took my seat, he got up to sharpen his pencil. I followed his back with my eyes, but looked down when he reached the pencil sharpener. I don’t know if he looked my way. I was busy digging out the mechanical pencil from Grandpa. I dashed out of class the second the bell rang.
Kaitlyn rushed by my locker at the end of the day. “I’ve got to go to work, you okay to walk home?”
“Oh yeah, go ahead.”
She waved, then called out from down the hall, “I have an idea! I’ll call you later.”
An idea about what? She was gone before I could ask. I turned back to my locker, and Tom appeared out of nowhere.
“Hey Cara, how’s it going?”
I opened my mouth but my chest was caving in.
“You get to drive your grandpa’s Mustang much? You’re so lucky. I’ve got an old beater now. My parents surprised me with it. Not that I’m not grateful, but it’s a hand-me-down ancient Escort wagon from my neighbor.”
I managed a smile. I think. Maybe it came across as a wince.
“Well, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll catch you later.”
And he was gone.
God, I needed to go climbing.
Jake was already at Planet Granite when I arrived.
“Cara, come look!”
He hung about twenty feet in the air, just below an overhang, and dipped his hands in the chalk bag tied at his waist.
“I think this is it. A 5.14. Nate and I put it up yesterday. I can’t get past the darn crux!”
A cute, middle school girl was belaying him. Jake always had girls checking him out, but he was too into his climbing to pay attention. Or too into me, as Nick would tease.
“Climbing,” he called down to the girl.
“Okay,” she called back.
He hooked his right ankle on a pretzel shaped lump, smeared his left foot on the wall, stretched with his left arm, grabbed a moonrock hold, reached his right arm up and—
“Falling!” he yelled.
His belayer girl popped about two feet off the ground from the force of his fall, and I grabbed her harness to pull her back down.
“Let him down,” I said.
“I don’t know if he wants to. He’s almost got it.”
“Let him down.”
She let out the rope and Jake sunk to the ground, trying to catch his breath.
“Your turn, Cara.”
I tied in to the rope, and Jake took over belaying.
“Climbing,” I said.
“Climb on.”
I motored up the first stretch until I got to the spot where Jake had fallen. I hooked my right heel on the pretzel like he did, but I couldn’t stretch far enough to reach the left handhold. I backed down and used the pretzel simultaneously as a handhold and foothold, pushing up with my triceps, balancing my weight. I stood on my tiptoe on the tip of the hold and inched my way up, smearing my other foot, my right hand finding a tiny pincher hold that Jake had later used as a foothold.
Now I was within reach of the moonrock that Jake had used. My fingers pressed into its divots. I matched both hands on it, pushed my feet off from below, let out a huge grunt, and dynoed to the next hold. I danced to the finish and clipped the last bolt.
“Take!” I called.
Jake lowered me down.
“5.13,” I said with a grin. “Maybe even 5.12.”
“You make me sick,” he said, tying into the rope to give it another go.
Kaitlyn texted me later, but I told her I couldn’t talk. I didn’t want to think about plans for California or Sadie Hawkins. I just wanted to keep the feeling from climbing. Contented and weightless, like floating on a cushion of clouds. It was the closest I ever came to the feeling of being home. I went to bed and slept until my alarm woke me up.