Page 95 of Valley Girls
They stared at each other, confused.
And realized at the same time. His pager.
“Oh,fuck,” he said, digging it out of his pocket like it was a bomb about to explode.
Her shoulders sank.
He looked up. Grabbed her chin, and pulled her up to his mouth. “Later, West Virginia,” he breathed onto her lips. And was gone.
Later.She turned for home, fingers crossed it was a promise.
Twenty Nine
Between climbing with Caroline, having Adeena teach her to aid, and all the ways in which Rilla’s world was unfolding out from this narrow thing it had once been—something invisible unlocked in her brain. Suddenly, The Nose route seemed possible. And as soon as it became possible, Rilla realized how much work she had ahead of her. Like she had to be at this point to see both its possibility and its challenge.
The route consisted of thirty-one pitches. It would take her roughly four days. That meant she’d climb straight through four days. It meant she’d sleep on the wall, live on the wall, and haul all the food and water she’d need throughout those four days. It meant peeing on the wall. Shitting on the wall.Somehow.It meant having the mental fortitude to be in a harness and not touch solid ground for four days.
All day long, she found herself thinking of the route, imagining how she’d feel to have it completed. To reach the summit and look down the thousands of feet and have accomplished it. It felt like, if she could somehow do that—do all the work, do all the climbing, and stand at the top—she’d be the person she’d wanted to be all along. In her attic at night, she fantasized about what she’d pack, what she’d wear, how she’d smile. She pictured herself as Caroline—beautiful while she ate out of a can in a portaledge. Under the light of the bare bulb, her homework forgotten, she studied a route map she’d found on the Internet.
When Jonah asked if she wanted to work someone’s shift at the hotel, she agreed immediately—never mind she had no idea what that job entailed. If she wanted to climb The Nose, she’d need as much of her own gear as she could get. Her backpack was full of Petra’s gear, but she wouldn’t be able to always use that.
“Meet Allie at the laundry at five thirtyA.M.,” Jonah said. “I’ll tell her you agreed.”
Rilla took the coffee he slipped over the counter and went back into the intense July sunshine.
The Nose.
She was going to do it.
One by one, she asked everyone what they thought went into something big and bold and out-of-this-world like climbing The Nose.
“Being responsible,” Thea said, eyes narrowed. She dropped her chin. “Also, how’s your schoolwork going?”
“Learn to aid climb efficiently,” Adeena said.
“Controlling your mental state,” Walker answered, before getting called out on the radio.
“Learn how to pee in your harness without peeing on yourself,” said Petra.
“Discipline,” answered Caroline, after finishing climbing and Rilla had showered and climbed into the backseat on the way to the Grove for Petra’s turn to cook. “You have to commit to one thing for a long time.”
She asked Gage during dinner at the Grove, partially to distract herself when Walker walked in. Petra had made sushi. “Believing you can do it,” said Gage, dipping his tiger roll into a bowl of soy sauce. He pointed his fingers at her as he talked over the food in his mouth. “Even if you have all the physical skills, to be able to believe you can put together something that big is a huge component. If you don’t believe it, who will?”
Rilla picked up a roll and studied it. Petra had said there was avocado, fried shrimp, and cucumber in the rice wrapped in seaweed. She’d never eaten sushi before, but she followed Gage’s example and dipped the roll into the bowl before popping it in her mouth.
“Oh shit,” she muttered over the bite. “That’s delicious.”
Gage grinned. “Yeah, I was dubious, but this is pretty good.”
“I heard that,” Petra said, putting another plate onto the table.
Gage reached over Adeena to grab one. “I’m just saying. The amount of people who say they can make sushi, versus the amount of people who can actually do it, is a big difference.”
“I took a class with a Michelin star sushi chef,” Petra said.
Rilla had no idea how tires and sushi connected, but she caught Walker watching her from farther down the table, and forgot to ask.
He looked showered—for once—and his sandy blond hair shone bright from all the days in the sun. He wore a clean, white T-shirt, and his blue eyes were shocking in his tanned face. He lingered for a minute, a little smile on the edge of his mouth. She scrunched her face, uncomfortable with the intensity but wanting so badly to be that uncomfortable always.
