Eight
After being dropped off in the Camp 4 parking lot after dinner at the Grove, barely in time for curfew, Rilla hustled through the meadow grass, trying to make it home before Thea discovered she’d been out of the Valley. Her phone was quiet—but she couldn’t trust the spotty service. Across the meadow, dim amber light glowed from the kitchen window of Thea’s house, and muffled music drifted out into the dark. Rilla trudged through the grass and tiptoed up the porch, opening the door quietly to slide inside.
“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” Walker bellowed over the country music.
Rilla’s spine snapped straight.
“We were just talking about you,” Thea said. She and Walker were playing cards—empty dinner plates pushed to the side on the cluttered table.
Rilla stayed frozen in the doorway. “Um. What about?”
“I was telling him about the time you raced Frank down the Meadow River during that ice storm.”
“Oh.” Rilla narrowed her eyes, uncertain how Thea was swinging the story. It’d started out as a stupid bet with her cousin. They’d gone sliding down the frozen river until Frank hit a bad patch of ice and dropped through. The hole kept tearing at the edges and Rilla had raced back, without thinking. She’d kept sliding on her stomach around the ever-widening hole until they both were able to crawl to the bank. Thankfully.
“She said she couldn’t tell whether you were stupid or smart,” Walker said.
“And it’s still that way today.” Thea laughed, reaching to turn down the radio.
The food in Rilla’s stomach turned into stone. It was hard not to wonder how many other stories Thea told about Rilla’s life, without her ever knowing. Rilla’s face heated, but she kicked off her sandals and slid a finger under her eyes in case her makeup had run. “I’m obviously smarter than you,” she said, eyeing Thea’s hand meaningfully. She didn’t really know her cards, but Thea hadn’t ever been good at poker.
Walker laughed.
Thea slapped her cards facedown and frowned.
“What’s with the card game? I thought you two would be climbing?” Rilla said, trying not to sound nasty. This friendship between Walker and her sister bothered her—a jealousy, but the sibling kind, where it seemed her older sister left and found someone to replace her.
Thea groaned. “I’m too exhausted.”
“And it’s dark now anyway.” Walker laid down his cards.
Thea laughed and shoved away from the table. “More tea?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Want any, Rilla?” Thea asked.
“Yeah,” she said.
Walker’s eyes met hers; and for a moment she was back at the pool, sitting beside him.
He looked away, gathering up the cards.
Rilla shifted awkwardly and tried to look like she was doing something with her phone.
“What were you up to?” Thea called from the kitchen.
“Oh. I ate with some friends,” Rilla said.
“Want to play?” Walker asked, shuffling the cards. “I’ll deal you in.”
“Sure.” Rilla sat at the bench.
“You in this hand?” he yelled to Thea in the kitchen.
“I’ll skip,” Thea called.
Rilla leaned forward and put her chin in her hands, watching the cards fly across the table as he dealt. His fingers were smudged and she wondered if it was from dirt or from drawing. He didn’t seem like the artist type—which made it all the more interesting to Rilla.
“When you going climbing again?” Walker asked.
“I don’t know,” Rilla answered, pulling her cards off the table. She kept her face still, feeling his eyes on her as she arranged her cards.
“I’ll take you again,” he said.
“No, thank you.”
“I promise it’ll be better.”
She snorted and stared at her cards. “You had your chance.”
He didn’t respond.
She glanced up. He wore a fluorescent-green T-shirt and his sunglasses were on the table, but his hair still stood like the glasses were pushed up on his head. His lower lip pursed as he moved his cards. He was too attractive for his own good, she could just tell. Those blue eyes flicked to her. “How many?” he asked.
She held up two fingers.
Without dropping his gaze, he gave her two cards.
“Rilla, do you want honey?” Thea asked.
Something beeped. But it didn’t sound right.
Rilla frowned. “Is that the microwave? That’s a weird microwave.”
Walker put down his cards and leaned back, the beeping continuing, as he took something out of his pocket.
“Is that a pager?” she asked, stunned. At the same time, Thea called from the kitchen doorway. “Is that yours, Walker?”
He laughed and looked at it briefly, before shoving it back into his pocket. “Gotta go save some lives,” he said.
“Ugh. I hate you. Get out of here, with your gloating.” Thea hit him on the head with the tea box still in her hand.
“This isn’t over.” He pointed to Rilla, with a glint of teasing in his eyes. “Hopefully, I’ll make it back alive to finish.”
“Get out of here, drama queen. Stop flirting with my sister.” Thea opened the door. “Don’t fuck anything up.”
He saluted, picking up speed down the steps and disappearing into the night at a jog.
“Was he flirting with me?” Rilla asked, totally unable to help herself and trying very hard to keep her voice nonchalant.
“He flirts with everyone,” Thea said. She disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a second later with two mugs. “I’ll finish his hand.”
“Thanks,” Rilla said, taking the mug and picking up her cards. She was almost afraid to breathe—sitting here, drinking tea with her sister. It was everything she’d wanted California to be, deep down. Maybe the tide was turning. She looked at the cards and tried to come up with something to say. “Why do they use pagers?”
“The cliffs do weird things to digital signals.”
“Pagers aren’t like cell phones?” Rilla asked.
“No.” Thea frowned at the cards and picked one out. “They use radio signals.”
“Oh. So, how come you can’t go?”
“It’s not my job.”
“How come? If it’s something you love . . .” Rilla eyed her sister. Thea looked annoyed. Which could be her questions, or could be her hand.
“It’s really hard to get a position like that.” Thea tossed her cards with a sigh. “I don’t have anything.”
Rilla dropped her cards. “Do you want to play again?”
Thea yawned. “Mmm . . . I need to sleep. Maybe tomorrow?”
Rilla nodded and started gathering the cards. All she kept trying to do was engage her sister. To talk like they used to. But she kept doing the wrong thing, somehow. It felt like Thea would rather be anywhere other than with her. She’d sat here and ate with Walker, played poker with Walker, laughed, and been herself. This curt person who needed to go to bed wasn’t Thea. Rilla was doing something wrong still. Maybe it was just that she was a walking reminder of everything Thea didn’t want to remember.
“Do you ever want to go back to West Virginia?” Rilla asked, turning on the bench. “Seriously?”
Thea paused at the beginning of the hall. “No.” She yawned again. “Good night.”
Never.
Rilla stared at the cards in her hands.
“You two make me feel like I need to call my sister,” someone said.
Rilla jerked up.
Lauren—the ranger with the dark hair and tattoos—sat in a corner on her laptop. Rilla hadn’t noticed her.
“Yay,” Rilla muttered.
Lauren just smiled and shook her head, still focused on the screen. She wore a big T-shirt, the thick glasses she’d been wearing before, and her hair in a messy ponytail, like she was ready for bed—except she was still wearing her uniform pants. “She loves you.”
Rilla shrugged. It wasn’t that she doubted her sister’s love. But right now, it just felt like a love stretched thin, without much substance for the everyday.
“My little sister is the good one.” Lauren clicked and peered at the screen. “She’s a nurse with two adorable kids. Mom never wants to visit me.” She rolled her eyes to the messy cabin. “Can’t imagine why,” she said dryly.
“Yeah. I’ll just be out . . .” Rilla said quietly, putting the cards on the table. She dug out her phone and headed to the porch.
The Valley seemed the same—despite Walker’s jog into the night. No moon, but bright stars peeked out beyond the trees and rocks. Easing her breath out, she dialed Curtis’s old number.
The phone rang. Her breath held tight.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
And Rilla stared into the night.
Three days later, Rilla felt like a toy everyone had fought over and then forgotten about. No matter where she walked in the Valley, or how long she waited on the porch, trying to do homework while she watched the edges of the meadow for someone she recognized to cross through, the magic of the Valley did not conjure her anyone. Not this time.
Rilla kept texting anyone she remembered from home, hoping she didn’t sound like the desperate, insecure person that she was. But even if they did reply, no one talked for long. And no one would give her Curtis’s new number, no matter that she just wanted to apologize.
Worse, while stalking everyone on Instagram, she’d found Caroline’s account. Despite Petra creating expectations, Rilla was still surprised at how beautiful and professional the feed looked. Like, a more-gorgeous-than-you’ll-ever-be girl sitting cross-legged on a cot, tied to a giant rock wall, laughing like a dork, as she ate from a tin can. There were pictures of Caroline climbing in tight pants without panty-lines or weird bulges or anything awkward. The comments on those numbered into the thousands and included a lot of not nice things, but Rilla didn’t pay much attention to those. The most recent ones were Valley sunsets, and climbing gear laid out. Rilla clicked one and saw the meal Adeena had made. Everything looked like a goddamn advertisement. Rilla kept scrolling. Before Yosemite there was Argentina. Arizona. Spain. Mountains bigger and higher than anything Rilla could imagine, even with Yosemite’s reset to her sense of scale. Food she’d never seen. Beaches she could only imagine. The one picture Caroline had posted of her and Walker for #nationalsiblingsday had a ton of comments about her hot brother. Those comments were made by girls prettier than anyone in Rainelle, let alone Rilla.
Rilla made a gagging noise and closed the app. How on earth had she thought she could be friends with Caroline? Or have a chance with Walker?
It was like all the embarrassment she should have felt, caught up in one rush of red-hot agony. Oh god, they probably hated her. They probably thought she was the dumbest person. They were probably talking right now about that awkward girl who had no idea. The nerve she had . . .
Rilla looked at the phone, and found herself clicking it back on.
Caroline was from southern Ohio, which was a similar place to central West Virginia. Caroline was on her own, with her sibling, like Rilla. It was impossible to look at those pictures and not feel that all Rilla needed to do to fix herself was be like Caroline.
Irritated at herself for even remotely believing in magic and her ability to be that cool in the first place, Rilla resolved to never think of climbing again. She was definitely afraid of heights. It was a ridiculous sport. She already had a problem with recklessness. She didn’t have a death wish, no matter what anyone thought. It was stupid.
She closed Instagram. There. Done.
Determined to forget climbing, she spent her days at HUFF, hanging out with Jonah. He fed her leftovers from the kitchen, and she tagged along as they went through the routine of every day—work, food, and laundry. She took a spot in the makeshift living room formed of a rug and camp chairs in the dirt, rushing to make it back to Thea’s at a reasonable hour. When she wasn’t with Jonah, she unpacked her clothes, hung Christmas lights in the rafters of her attic, and tried to do homework.
In the middle of the week, Thea had her weekend. She had a serious-slash-awkward conversation with Rilla about how Ranger Lauren was actually her girlfriend, while Lauren leaned on the counter and tried to look supportive, but kept grinning at them like she found the whole thing hilarious, except she was wearing her glasses and they made her eyes bigger in a way that almost cartoonish, so Rilla kept trying not to laugh when she looked at her.
Finally, Thea finished her speech.
“You had to wait to tell me this?” Rilla asked as soon as Thea stopped talking. Maybe that was why Thea was on edge about everything. But, like, how terrible did Thea think Rilla was that she’d be upset about this?
“I just didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Thea said.
“Okay. Well. Good to know. Anything else?”
Thea frowned and glanced to Lauren.
Lauren shrugged.
“No?” Thea said, with no confidence.
“Thanks for updating me on your relationship status,” Rilla said, hopping off the kitchen stool and grabbing an apple before heading back to the attic. It was disconcerting though. To find out something this big about a person she’d known her whole life. Had she missed it? She didn’t want Thea to know how she felt—it might make Thea feel like she had to send her home.
It took forty-five minutes of getting distracted remembering things from their childhood, given this new information, before Thea was the same old Thea, and Rilla was restless again.
She finished one unit of trigonometry out of sheer and total boredom; but after she discovered Thea’s laptop had movies, schoolwork didn’t stand a chance.
•
“Your sister probably doesn’t want to go back to West Virginia because she’s got a girlfriend. Not because of you,” Jonah said, handing her a coffee a tourist hadn’t liked the look of. He usually worked in the cafeteria, but was covering the shift of a friend.
“West Virginia has lesbians,” Rilla snapped, exhausted by the constant comments about things West Virginia was or was not, as told by people who had never lived there.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but do they get married and have babies and put those babies in Montessori preschools?”
“Monta what?”
“Exactly.” He poured the milk.
She made a face and took the latte outside.
By the fifth day, she’d given up—on homework, magic, and hope.
Guilt and loneliness mired her in misery—where the only cure was more misery and Pop-Tarts from the store in Yosemite Village. She sat in a dark attic on her phone, stalking people at home on slow-ass Internet. Hating herself. Hating everyone else. Making herself sick on Pop-Tarts because no one was around to tell her to stop. Until suddenly, Adeena knocked on the door.
“We’re going climbing!” Adeena announced as Rilla hid behind the door, blinking and shielding herself from the intense sunshine like a vampire fresh from death. “Don’t worry, I’ll ease you into it. Bring water and wear comfortable shoes. I’ll come back before sunrise tomorrow morning. I need to catch my ride.” Adeena waved goodbye.
Rilla was so excited she’d been invited to climb with Adeena, she almost forgot it was an activity she’d just spent five days convincing herself she wanted no part of. A pit of nervousness grew in her stomach, but she wasn’t about to chicken out. Before going to bed, she laid out layers of clothes and stuffed her backpack with water and an extra sweatshirt. It took her three hours to fall asleep. She managed to wake up, dress, and slip outside with peanut butter toast before Adeena arrived in the early hours before dawn, Petra in tow.
“Long story,” Adeena snarled over a granola bar as she glared at Petra’s headlamp light. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t kill you.”
“I am a fantastic climbing instructor,” Petra said as she stabbed a plastic spoon into an open packet of instant oatmeal. “I worked at a gym in Burbank.”
“No. No, we shall not do this.” Adeena stalked off. “Call me when you lead a team up the Trango Towers.”
“You didn’t lead it.” Petra’s eye roll was visible even in the headlamp glow. “Come on,” she said to Rilla over a mouthful of oatmeal. “You’re going to like this.”
Rilla slung her backpack onto her shoulders and followed, afraid to say anything in case it would be wrong. It was hard to tell what she could say to either girl that would endear her, especially when she didn’t understand why they argued or what they were even arguing over. It was like waiting for the beat to start dancing, but always somehow missing it.
They started across the Valley toward the sheer, shadowed face of Half Dome looking off into the distance—a dark wave, frozen at its steep crest. Her breath hung as a silver cloud and she shivered in the purple dark as she followed the gentle bobbing of Petra’s headlamp. This was it.
Her stomach flipped in sudden nervousness. She was going climbing.