Page 9 of Valley Girls
“I’m fine,” Rilla said. “Do you want to leave a message?”
“I guess she’s working a lot these days?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I just got here,” Rilla said, eyebrow raised until she remembered she was wearing a hat and glasses and it was a wasted effort. “What do you need?”
“Just tell her I was looking for someone to climb with.” He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his pack and looked away. There was a long pause.
Rilla squeezed the bottle between her fingers and frowned.
He pulled off the step. “Later.” The grass swished as he walked past the house.
Squinting against the sun, she watched him go, long muscled arms swinging at his sides.
Homesickness washed over her with a lurch of her stomach, and the Valley all around seemed to reverberate with emptiness. All she wanted was to not be alone.
“Hey,” she croaked.
Walker kept going.
Rilla pushed out of the chair and called over the railing. Louder. With certainty. “Walker.”
He turned.
She gripped the edge. “Can I come? Climbing?”
Four
Home—Rainelle—was nestled in the mountains along Sam Black Church Road, surrounded by woods and wild. But despite her surroundings growing up, Rilla had never hiked anything farther than a trail to a party or a tree-stand, and she’d only ever climbed to get something she couldn’t reach otherwise. Sitting on a rock, where Walker had told her tostaywhile he disappeared up a steep gully, a sudden wave of anger washed over her.
This was stupid. What did she think she could do ... move to California and suddenly become one of these tourists with hiking poles and SPF clothing? Like,let’s go die in the wilderness, Bob. Yuk, yuk, yuk. Pointless and avoidable death for the win!
Rilla stared at the gray granite wall in front of her, her jaw clenched tight. The gentle asphalt path that circled the Valley and promised a quick return to Thea’s place sat just out of the corner of her eye. But if she went back, it would only be to an empty house. She didn’t know what she was doing. Here, with climbing. Or in life. Her eyes stung, but she took another careful drink of her warm Gatorade. She wouldn’t cry.No more crying.
“West Virginia,” Walker said from behind her.
Rilla jumped. “How did you?” she sputtered. “Where—”
Walker adjusted the sunglasses atop his short, dark-blond hair. “I rapped down.”
She blinked a long, slow beat.
“Um. Right,” he said. “Rappelled. I set up a top-rope, a rope at the top, and rappelled down the rope. You haven’t ever been climbing before?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, no biggie. We got this.” He tilted his head. “Come on.”
Forcing herself up, Rilla followed him farther along the base where two stretches of a bright green rope ran down the cliff and coiled at the bottom like a thin, vivid serpent.
“What do you do here? Are you a ranger?” Rilla asked. She was pretty sure he lived in the park, and now she understood there was a reason.
“I’m on the Yosemite Search and Rescue Team. We get to stay in the park for free, in exchange for our search and rescue skills.”
Rilla’s spine straightened.Well, hello. “Oh. How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Hi, Walker!” a bright voice called.
