by Sarah Tomp
Fifteen
Ria met Cotton and Leo at the entrance of the cave, as planned. She got there first and was worried for a minute that they’d gone in without her. Then, with a bluster of voices and laughter, they appeared on the trail, already wearing their coveralls and helmets.
Her old sweats didn’t have the official look of the coveralls, but they fit her better, felt like a second skin. She didn’t own rugged boots so her running shoes would have to do. Cotton had promised he’d find her a helmet, which turned out to be an old bike helmet with a headlamp duct-taped to the brim.
“I know it’s ugly, but I think it’ll work.”
“I don’t care how it looks,” said Ria, knowing her grin was big and goofy. “It’s what I can look at with it.”
“That’s right! Not how it looks, what you look at. Looks-at, not it-looks. Looks-at, not it-looks.”
“Let’s go,” Leo said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yes. Oh, and Ria, my parents want to meet you.”
A whiff of dread fluttered by. She would have no idea how to act around them.
“They were surprised I was at your house last night,” Cotton continued. “Apparently I didn’t tell them we went caving together. They assumed I was with Leo that day.”
“Yeah,” said Leo. “We were all surprised.”
Cotton’s bounce of a walk implied he didn’t feel any more guilty than she did.
At the cave’s entrance, Ria suddenly felt hungry. Or full. Or maybe her stomach was feeling the dread that had snuck up on her remembering that panicky feeling of the tight tunnel.
She eyed Cotton. So much bigger than she was, in every way. She reminded herself: If he fit, so would she. Except logic didn’t always work for her.
“Let’s go.” She knew better than to prolong nerves. She needed to get in that tunnel and deal with it.
They headed in, with Ria in the middle following Leo, and Cotton bringing up the rear. Her makeshift helmet shone brighter, but at a different angle. Higher, and straighter, so the shadows of her peripheral vision felt darker.
She was aware of the rock walls, and the smell of damp, the sound of their breaths and footsteps, but her mind was set on reaching that tunnel. It probably wasn’t even that narrow. She’d freaked herself out with it.
Except, when they got there, it seemed even smaller than she remembered. It occurred to her they were inside the hill, heading downward, deeper underground. She could practically feel the weight of the ground above them.
“Is this the same tunnel?”
“Yes. There’s only been one way to go. The cave doesn’t split until we get in deeper.”
“Deeper” was such a creepy word.
“Do you want to lead?” asked Cotton.
“I don’t know where to go.”
“Forward. There’s only one way in the tunnel. If you’re in front, you won’t be closed in.”
“But if you go first, I’ll know you fit.”
“I fit.” He made it seem so reasonable. So matter-of-fact.
“What if I panic and can’t move?”
“I’ll drag you out.”
She laughed, mostly because she knew he was completely serious. “I can do it.”
It was awful. Again.
But, finally, counting her crawl-steps and breaths, she made it through. The boys didn’t pause to readjust or acknowledge the tunnel in any way. They hustled onward.
Her shoes didn’t have the right traction. She could barely keep up with Leo. She sensed Cotton behind her, close on her heels.
As she hurried around a rocky corner, she skidded, completely freefalling along the trail. Her tumbling training kicked in and she hugged herself so as not to break a wrist or arm when she hit the ground. Which she did, with a clatter and crash. Her helmet ricocheted off the walls on either side of her. Cotton tripped over her and landed in a heap at her feet.
Adrenaline and relief battled inside her. She burst out laughing. A few seconds later, Cotton did too, short and hiccuppy.
“What happened? What are you doing down there?”
“We fell. And we’re fine,” said Cotton. “You are fine, right, Ria? Leo meant to be concerned.”
“Yes.” She stood up. “I’m fine. But damn.”
“Then let’s keep moving.”
She readjusted her helmet and brushed off her gritty hands. She already felt a bruise forming along her left hip.
“What’s the hurry?”
“We have a limited amount of time,” said Leo.
“My parents’ rules,” added Cotton.
“If we use it all traveling, we don’t go as far. We’re hoping to explore new territory. There’s no point seeing the same part of the cave over and over.”
“It’s all so amazing. Every bit of it.” She ran her fingers along the wall.
“We’ve already mapped this part,” said Cotton.
Now that she knew their expectation, she wasn’t going to be the thing that slowed them down. She knew how to push. To ignore the scenery in favor of reaching the goal. She didn’t even sit when they stopped for a water break.
“Left today, right?” said Cotton.
Ria laughed.
“I don’t know,” said Leo. “Maybe it’s not a good idea to go into uncharted territory.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Cotton protested.
She wondered if he was still searching for Esther. “Don’t change your plans because I’m here. It’s all uncharted to me. I have no idea where we are or where we’ve been. It makes no difference.”
The trail led them downward, steep enough that she braced her forward movement with both hands pressed against the walls.
“Are you measuring this shift in elevation?” Cotton called to Leo. “Let me go in front of you, Ria.”
“I’ll go faster.”
“I don’t want to flatten you. I’ve got a lot more mass than you.”
She pressed herself against the wall and let Cotton pass. He stumbled down the hill, a clatter of movement, his light bumping and jostling against the walls. Alone, she allowed herself a moment to stand still. To listen to the rustles and echoes. To breathe in the smell of damp rock. With all the exertion she’d forgotten that the air was cool.
“I’m going to slide,” she called to them. She squatted, then pushed herself off the walls. Being low gave her a better center of balance as she slid downward. She felt more in control than when she’d been trying to step carefully.
The boys jumped out of her way as she arrived on the flat space where they’d stopped. Their lights flashed and danced as they each turned their heads in every direction, trying to get a sense of their surroundings.
“Let’s get accurate diameters. We’ll have to chart the crannies.”
While Cotton and Leo chattered their cave-talk and made measurements, Ria scanned the wall. A white line within the darker brown looked like a trail. She traced the line with her finger, up above her head. It kept going, up and up, way past Cotton’s head. Even higher, she could see deeper shadows. “It looks like there’s an opening up there. I can climb it.”
“That’s probably ten to twelve feet,” said Cotton.
The wall had plenty of knobs and indentations. It wasn’t hard to find toeholds and places to grab the rock. Her shoes were flimsy and flexible, but too slick. “I’m going barefoot.”
Once her feet were free, she easily scrambled up. She’d go faster without the annoying helmet throwing her off balance, but she’d hit her head enough times to know she had to wear it. Plus, it was her only light. Funny how she kept forgetting that.
“There’s a ledge,” she said at the top, straining to see ahead. “I want to follow it.”
“Don’t go anywhere on your own,” called Cotton. “That’s the rule.”
“I can’t see where it goes.”
“I’m coming up,” he said.
Once he’d joined her, the passageway felt tighter.
“You have fifteen minutes to
explore,” yelled Leo.
With Ria leading, they crawled onward. She had to duck, which made the helmet slip and slide, sometimes covering her eyes.
“I think I hear something.”
Her next movement only met air. There was no spot to put her hand. She’d almost gone over the edge. Her heart raced suddenly at the near-miss. A rush of fear washed over her.
“There’s a drop-off.” Her voice gave away the lurch she felt in her gut.
Cotton leaned over her, his cheek brushing against hers as he peered down. His weight pressed against her back.
“Trade spots with me,” she begged.
He moved back, and awkwardly, she managed to climb around his broad shoulders and over his everywhere-legs until she was behind him.
“We’re going to have to come back with ropes and climbing gear.”
She was pretty sure this was a good thing, but it was hard to know from the tone of his voice.
“Three minutes!” Leo yelled from the dark behind them.
“We’re being summoned,” said Cotton.
Back at the bottom of the wall, she retrieved her shoes. Her feet were cold, but being able to feel the ground, to use her toes for grip, felt better, more secure. It would be easier to get up that slick hill without them. She tied the laces together and hung them around her neck.
“Ria has made an excellent find. There is a major chamber, not too far away. I think it keeps going. It had a different kind of echo.”
Leo let out a whoop. “Nice! We’ve been hoping to find something like that.”
Suddenly Cotton hugged her, with one arm. Her helmet clunked against his chest. The surprise of it, along with the narrow space, knocked her off balance.
She felt proud but wasn’t sure she’d earned it. If she’d fallen off that cliff they wouldn’t be so thrilled. At least she hoped not. They probably would have found this place on their own. But they were acting like she was the one who’d made something special happen.
When they reached the narrow tunnel to return, she waited as Leo disappeared.
“Hey, Cotton. Can we turn our lights off for a minute? I want to see how dark it is.”
“Well, you won’t see much. Only dark. But yes. You go first.”
The knob on her helmet felt damp and slippery from the condensation in the air. Even her skin was slick with it.
“Here comes nothing,” he said, turning his light off.
Her eyes met black.
They searched for something to see, and ached with trying to focus. She turned from side to side thinking maybe she saw a shape or shadow. Cotton was right. There was nothing. Absolutely the darkest dark of darks.
She moved toward the warmth of him. She found his elbow and grabbed on. “That’s enough.”
“Yes.” His voice was deep and close to her ear.
She felt him fiddle with her helmet and then there was a flash of light. Her pupils contracted in response. It made her dizzy. He must have felt it too because they stood in place for another minute, hanging on to each other. Then he pulled his hand back and stepped away.
Now, she saw the cave. Really saw it. It wasn’t only the different dimensions and shapes—there were colors too. All along the many formations, she spotted pretty ribbons of various browns and grays, almost silver. It was closer to beautiful than she’d realized.
If only it didn’t all look so foreign. She had no idea which way to go.
Sixteen
By Monday morning, Sean had apologized way too many times about getting drunk and she’d forgiven him every time, which was easy since she wasn’t sure why she should care.
During her last class she received a pass to go to the counseling department.
She swallowed a groan of disappointment. They must have found out she didn’t have a reason for leaving school early. They were probably going to fill her schedule with more pointless classes, forcing her to stay all day. Or maybe it was something else. Back in freshman year, Mrs. Sellers had called her in to ask about her bruises. A teacher had noticed and wondered if her parents, or a boyfriend, had hurt her. She’d told the truth—those particular bruises were from falling short on a new back dive. Bruises from diving were forgivable. Expected. Admired.
“I’m glad we caught you,” chirped Mrs. Sellers as soon as Ria walked in. “I wouldn’t want to waste your time driving to the pool when your coach is waiting for you here!” She laughed.
Benny.
Here. At school. In Mrs. Sellers’s private office. Dressed for a meet in his red button-down shirt with the team logo on his chest. Standing up from a chair positioned next to the counselor. “Hello, Ria.”
Still sitting at her desk, Mrs. Sellers said, “Mr. Hawkins—”
“Call me Benny.”
“Benny was showing me videos of your dives, Ria. You’re fearless!”
“Ria’s better than fearless. She knows what she’s doing is downright dangerous. It’d be reckless for most anyone else. But she’s a pro. She tames fear and then kicks its—well, you know what I mean. Wouldn’t want to cuss and end up in detention.”
Mrs. Sellers giggled. She was under the spell of Benny’s grin and swagger.
“It’s just falling with style,” Ria played along, using the old Buzz Lightyear joke. She knew how to act bold, like Benny expected.
“Well, I could never do any of that. Ria, you’re an inspiration. Feel free to use the counseling space for your business.”
“Let’s talk.” Benny led her out of Mrs. Sellers’s office, then gestured toward one of the round tables near the farthest wall. He pulled out a chair for her. “Sit, Miss Victorious Marie Where-There’s-a-Will-iams.”
She sat like he’d told her to, but she didn’t let herself smile at the old nickname. If she let herself relax, he might knock her over somehow.
“I thought I was doing you a favor, getting you out of school early. But looks like we got that covered already.” He smirked. “That won’t matter for long.”
“Why are you here?”
He didn’t make her wait. “The NDT wants you.”
A flutter of something that felt an awful lot like winning and hope and hell-yes, started in her middle. “The NDT?” she asked, the letters clumsy on her tongue. “The actual NDT?”
He laughed, and she knew she’d gotten it right. The NDT—the National Development Team—wanted . . .
“When? How?” Her head swirled with the news. “What does that mean?”
“When you stopped by the gym that day, insisting we keep trying, well, it got me thinking. I decided to make some calls. Everyone knows you were supposed to win that meet.” He leaned back in his chair, looking pleased.
This was it. The thing she’d been wishing for. An invite. A chance. And Benny was happy, too.
“We’ll show them we belong.”
“We?” The one short syllable stuck in her throat.
“That’s right. We. You and me. I’ll be your personal trainer. They know we’re a package deal. They were a little worried about your head space considering what happened in LA.”
Shame made her face flush hot.
“I’ve assured them I can keep you on track. They know you need me.”
“What about the team? Your gym?”
“This is too good an opportunity to turn down. For both of us. We’re the best. We’re not like everyone else. You and me, that’s the team that matters. Here are all the details. You sign the last page. Use your whole name.” He pulled a large manila envelope from his satchel.
Her hands shook as she obediently scrawled her name across the line, Victoria Marie Williams. As she handed him the papers, a weight of worry settled in her gut, right below her rib cage. She whispered softly, “What if I’m not ready?”
“Then get ready.”
“When do I have to decide?”
“There’s nothing to decide. You just signed your letter of commitment! This is the NDT, Ria. The real deal. This has all the details. I’ll leave it to you to un
veil the great surprise to your parents.” He handed her a second envelope. “We leave whenever you and your parents work out the details. The sooner the better.”
His voice was sharp. Edged with impatience. But he wouldn’t do anything here at school, not with Mrs. Sellers swishing by every few minutes.
“This is our best shot to get you ready for the Olympics. You blew one chance already. Don’t blow this, too.”
Abruptly, he pushed himself back from the table. Stood, towering over her, but only for a second. Then, with a wave to Mrs. Sellers, he was gone.
She sat at the counseling table playing with the manila envelope.
The NDT wanted her.
Even after screwing up Nationals, they wanted her to train with them. To try for the Olympics. This was where she’d been aiming. She’d still have to prove herself, but Benny had found her another chance. He’d brought her here to this place she longed for, wished for, ached for. So why did she feel so confused?
She wasn’t ready to tell her parents. Not until she figured out how she felt.
She couldn’t tell anyone. Sean wouldn’t understand. He might be sad that she was leaving. They’d have to break up. Even if the NDT’s facility wasn’t on the other side of the country, she wouldn’t have anything to give him once she was there.
Maggie would be happy for her, but there’d be jealousy, too. They had an uneasy understanding of how competitions turned out—Ria always in first—and next year they’d be headed in different directions. But the NDT making an offer, even after she quit, was completely unexpected. And Benny leaving would put Maggie’s scholarship at risk. This changed everything.
Or nothing, if she didn’t go.
When the bell rang, she grabbed the envelope and headed for the exit. As she reached the door, a voice from behind said, “Hello, Ria.”
She turned around. “Cotton! Are you leaving? Do you want a ride?”
“Yes and yes.”
She matched her step to his bounce. It wasn’t until she reached her car that she realized she hadn’t said goodbye to Sean.
She stuffed the manila envelope under the driver’s seat, started the engine, and headed out of the parking lot. Damn, Cotton smelled good when he wasn’t covered in mud. She opened the window a few inches so she didn’t feel quite as aware of him being within touching distance.
