by Sarah Tomp
“Springboard or platform?” She opened the top drawer of Benny’s desk, but there were only pens and scrap paper. Ria pulled out a plastic bag holding at least fifty Sharpies.
“Springboard.”
Distracted, trying to sort through the papers in the second drawer, she said, “Probably one of my twisters.” The degree of difficulty was a way to measure a dive’s challenge. The higher the points, the harder to be perfect.
“What’s its dive number?”
She couldn’t find the NDT paperwork. Benny had given her the packet of information, but she didn’t have the paper she’d signed. She wasn’t sure where he fit into the words and lines of promises.
“If it’s a twister, I’m assuming it starts with a five.”
“You already know more than most people.” It was funny that he found the order and math of diving so interesting.
“Can you do a four hundred one dive?” He stepped inside the office, holding the open book.
“It’s a four-oh-one. Basic inward. You could do that dive.”
“No. I don’t think I could.”
Ria wanted a copy of that agreement, free of her parents’ eyes. Even if it was too complicated to read. Cotton could have helped her. But Benny hadn’t left it here. She looked around the office, quickly making sure it looked the same, then joined Cotton at the door. She took the diving manual from him and set it back on the empty bookshelf by the cubbies. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Needing something to hang on to, she took Cotton’s hand. He pulled back at first, but then squeezed her fingers. She led him across the spongy floor mats to the far side of the gym.
“Is that a diving board?” He dropped her hand.
“It’s a real board, the same one that’s on any pool. Except for the water.”
She climbed the ladder, walked across the board, peered over the edge into the pit of foam blocks. She bounced, gently at first, then, higher, pushing harder, launching herself as high as she dared, then a little higher, to the point where her insides were out of sync with the rest of her. Adrenaline still felt like a healing potion. Necessary doses required.
As she slowed again, Cotton clapped from his spot along the side of the pit.
“You can’t clap yet. I haven’t done anything.” She raced down the board and threw herself off with a flip and a twist. She heard the clang of the board before she hit the pit, sinking into the soft pieces of foam.
“I don’t think we’re the same species. That was amazing.”
“You’re too easily amazed. That wasn’t even a real dive.” She waded through the armpit-high mess of foam and stood on the soft and uneven floor at the edge of the pit.
“Show me something real.”
“I can, but I have to land them feet-first since there’s no water.”
This was why she’d brought him here. It’s what she was craving.
Her body remembered the moves. She barely had to think. She was on automatic, going through her collection of dives, in every direction. Front. Back. Reverse. Inward. And twisters, her favorite because they could be everything combined.
Finally, she met him where he leaned against a stack of mats pushed against the wall. “Come on. It’s your turn. You should take off your tie.”
He loosened, then slipped it off his head, tossing it to the side. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed that too, leaving on a white T-shirt with his dress slacks.
“While you’re at it, pants could be a problem too. They might get messed up.”
“No, thank you.” Cotton moved slowly across the rough and springy surface and stood at the end of the board, looking down.
“It’s like a trampoline,” she said.
“Yes. Except for all the ways it’s not.”
She laughed. “That’s true about everything. Just jump. You don’t have to do anything fancy.”
“My jumping will be fancy.” He hurled himself off the board, letting out a yell as his arms and legs waved for the brief second he was in the air. He sank deep into the blocks, then came up wide-eyed, with teeny bits of foam in his hair.
“Let’s play copycat. Whatever you do, I have to do too.”
Most of Cotton’s tricks consisted of flailing limbs and making lots of noise, so after a few very similar versions, they made their way to the edge, laughing.
“I had no idea falling was so exhausting.” He sounded out of breath.
The soft and stretchy ground of the pit sank below them each, but proportionally. The result was an illusion of being the same height. Eye to eye. Nose to nose. Mouth to mouth. Species to species.
A flash of light from across the gym startled her out of the moment. Instinct made her tense up. Freeze. She heard the door click shut before she turned to see who she knew was there.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Victorious?”
“Benny,” she whispered, but it was clear Cotton already knew. She hated the panicked look on his face. She shouldn’t have brought him into Benny’s territory.
“I know you’re here.”
“Go away. I don’t want to see you.” She hoisted herself out of the pit.
“This is my gym.” He sounded amused. “No one tells me to leave.”
With her stomach doing flips, Ria scrambled across the mats to join him. Her mouth felt dry and sticky. His face looked weird and shadowed under his hat. She willed Fear to stay quiet and hidden. It couldn’t help her right now.
“What were you working on? Dives or conditioning? The NDT facility is going to blow your mind. It’s going to make this place look like a kids’ playhouse.”
“That’s not it.”
“I knew you couldn’t stay away. I figured you were up to something. I sent the NDT your video of the other day. They’re happy. But impatient for you to pick your starting date.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How many other times have you come to work out?”
“None. I’m not.”
“Right.” He wasn’t listening. Or not comprehending. Definitely not believing.
“I didn’t come to work out. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Is that right? You came for the view?”
As he stepped toward her, she kept her eyes on his hands.
“No, Benny. Please. Don’t.” She deserved to punished, but she couldn’t bear for Cotton to see it. “I’m with someone.”
He stared at her, jaw clenched and pulsing, looking confused.
“I’m ‘experiencing.’ Being a teenager. Like you told me to.”
He scanned the gym. His eyes stopped on Cotton’s shirt and tie, then found Cotton. A look of queasy disbelief rolled across his face. “Here? You brought him here?” Benny’s face turned steely and cold. He worked his mouth like he’d tasted something gross.
She bit back the apology, swallowed the urge to tell him they weren’t doing what he thought. Instead, she ignored the heat in her face and the stickiness on her skin.
“We’ll leave.”
“You better get the hell out of here, Romeo,” he yelled in Cotton’s direction. “You’re trespassing on someone else’s property.” Then he leaned in close, his breath hot and stale on her face. “We’re not done.”
He turned and left her standing alone on the foam mat. He went to his office and slammed the door.
Cotton heaved himself up and out of the pit. He rushed to the spot where he’d left his shirt and tie. Without talking, she led him out the door, into the dark of the night.
Thirty-Two
Ria woke up with her mind racing, and her body restless. Her parents’ voices hummed and buzzed through the wall.
She wondered if Benny would tell them about her visit to the gym. He hadn’t been mad. Not at first. It was more like he’d expected her. He’d assumed she’d been there before, and it was dumb luck that he’d finally caught her.
And when she’d begged him not to explode, he’d listened. Sure, Cotton had been there, but also, she’d never said no to Benny before. Maybe that
’s all it took. Maybe things could be different if she worked harder to stop him. But, he’d made her the best she could be. What would she have lost by saying no?
She’d surprised him, bringing Cotton to the gym. And poor Cotton looked shell-shocked on the way home. They’d both been quiet, holding tight to their own thoughts.
She had to see him.
The Talleys’ house looked dark. She sent him a text, then sat on the curb at the end of their driveway waiting for his response. She rested her arms on her knees and tucked her head into the crook of her elbow.
“My parents want to know why you’re sitting out here.” She must have dozed off, because his greeting startled her.
“It was too early to knock on your door.” She blinked, still waking up.
He turned and walked away. When he got to the porch he looked back. “Come in. It’s not too early anymore.”
Their home smelled of vanilla and maple, mixed in with the savory scent of sausage. Ria’s mouth watered and her stomach rumbled a ridiculous deep and gnawing, begging sound.
Breakfast at their home was like a dance with too many steps to count. Everyone in the warm yellow kitchen, each of them moving in their own direction, but perfectly aligned, as if choreographed to avoid collisions. Flutie walked out with a piece of toast as they walked in, but she greeted Ria with a smile before she headed upstairs. At the table, Mr. Talley and Bo watched something on a tablet while Jelly announced, “I’m being a self-cannibal. I’m having jelly on my grits.”
The table was covered with more food than Ria’s family served in a month of breakfasts.
“Cotton, feed your guest.” His mother waved her spatula like it was a magic wand.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“But you’re also hungry,” said Cotton.
“Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?” Mr. Talley asked as they sat down.
“I don’t think so.”
“Out-of-this-world food, no atmosphere.”
“I bet it’s a great place to rock out.”
He looked surprised, then burst out laughing. “I like this girl, Cotton.”
“Me too,” Cotton said, scooping applesauce.
Once they’d finished and rinsed their dishes, with Ria feeling like her thank-you wasn’t nearly sufficient, Cotton led her out to the garage.
As soon as they stepped into the quiet, dim space, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Your coach was angry last night.”
He was, but she’d seen worse.
“I thought he was going to hurt you.”
“We shouldn’t have been there. Not without permission.” She sighed at the frown on his face. She had to try to explain. “I know it’s wrong when Benny hits me.”
“Yes.”
“But he only does it because he wants me to be the best. It never lasts long. Diving hurts too if you do it wrong.”
“That’s different. Hitting the water is not the same as being hit.”
But they were the same, too.
“The first time he hurt me, I thought it was an accident. I didn’t even know he was mad.”
She’d been goofing around, showing off. She had her teammates cracking up. She’d slipped off the board sideways. It had surprised her, almost scared her, but not enough to slow her down or make her stop laughing. Then, as she’d lifted herself out of the pool, Benny had grabbed her arm, at the elbow. She’d thought he was helping her out—not that he ever did. But that’s where her head was, in a place where he always took care of her.
“I was too young and dumb to know he could do that.”
He’d wrenched her arm back, then down. She’d hit the cement, hard, hips skidding and scraping, but the look on his face had shocked her into biting back any protest. His words made a cloud around her, she hadn’t heard what he’d said, not with the way her heart raced and eyes stung. But she’d understood what he meant: She was stupid and foolish. And her whole team knew it. Embarrassed, she’d shaken it off, acted like nothing had changed. The way no one else protested or even said a word told her the truth: She deserved it.
“After it happened he was so sorry. I thought he was going to cry. He even bought me a candy bar after practice. He was so proud of me for forgiving him. But of course I did. I had to. We were partners. We needed each other. He gets angry because he cares.”
“There are better ways to show caring.”
She didn’t argue, but it wasn’t as simple as he thought. Like with all the different ways to go in the cave—the easiest trail wasn’t always the one he’d choose. The destination, the getting farther into the cave was the reason he’d squeeze through a too-tight tunnel and slip down muddy and treacherous hills. He’d risked climbing in the dark with ropes, and the reward was finding that pool. It had been worth it. The part that sucked was also the part that made the magic happen. Benny had led her to the top.
“I’ve been thinking, Cotton. You should go to college. You got that scholarship last night. You could do anything, go anywhere.”
“No. I can’t.”
“There are different kinds of schools. Big and small. Not so far away. You could . . .”
“Squid,” he said, loud and harsh.
“Sorry.” She blinked, blushed hot.
“You don’t need to apologize. You can say what you think. That’s what friends do. But then I can say squid. I’m not angry. That’s why we have the word ‘squid.’”
The sting in her eyes started to calm. She’d forgotten the easy rules of being with Cotton.
“I have to be here when Esther comes back.”
There was no way to argue, even if she thought she should. Squid, squid, squid.
“I want to show you something.” He gestured for her to take his chair at the desk. “I’ve been thinking about your suggestion.” He knelt on the floor and clicked something on the computer. Damn, he smelled good. “The idea of overlapping maps is interesting. It took some adjusting and manipulation, but I got them both to scale.
“This whole area is Pierre. Judging by our mileage and direction, I think we must be heading . . .” He paused, intently focused on the map. She watched as he made sense of what he was looking at, saw that moment when it clicked. The way his eyes lit up made her grin.
“Here! I think the underground pond must be right around here.” He let the mouse hover over a spot on the map, not far from her house.
She laughed at the magic of it. To think the cave was another layer, below the streets.
“It’s not exact. That mileage is including elevation and sidetracks. It’s not direct, not like a bat flies.”
“What about the other caves? Where are they?”
“It’s hard to know. Not all caves are identified publicly.”
“Best guess.”
“If I overlap them, it seems as though there must be one here.” Using an icon tool, he marked a spot on the map, then two more. “And these are reasonable possibilities. It’s all theoretical. No guarantee.”
“But this one”—she tapped the screen with her finger—“seems like it could be the other end of our cave. If—and I know it’s only an if—this could be the other side of the same cave. So, we need to find it. To know where we might end up.”
“Huh,” he said, but she couldn’t read the look on his face. Until he broke into a wide grin. “It’s worth a try. I’m going to get my log book.”
Waiting, she wandered through the garage. Everything surrounding his desk was a jumble of a mess, but his drawing surface was clear. He’d tucked all his papers into stacks and slots along the side. His other maps were stored neatly on the shelf.
She pulled out the papers. Studied the maps he’d made. She recognized their neighborhood, each street carefully labeled. Another was all lines and squiggles. A topographical map. But not of anywhere she knew. Not the cave. Or at least not any part she recognized. There were curved areas. A big room at the bottom of the page. Or maybe it was the top. She rotated the page to look at it fr
om a different angle. Her name was printed in neat letters in the bottom corner: RIA. She must be missing something. She’d have to ask him. She set it on the table and moved to survey the collection of toys. She pulled out a purple plastic ring. She’d always loved the Hula-Hoop.
He came through the door carrying his notebook, a few moments after she’d gotten the Hula-Hoop in motion. The key was all in the hips. A gentle rocking, a shimmy from side to side. Too much motion would make the ring go off-kilter and lose its rhythm.
“You don’t mind me using this, do you? I couldn’t resist.”
“It’s not mine,” he said. “In sixth grade you and Maggie did a Hula-Hoop routine to music in the talent show.”
“You remember that?” Her laugh messed up the flow of the hoop. She shifted, got it back.
“You swung them around your necks! I thought . . .” He stopped. Now he looked panicked. A little pale. Maybe even queasy. Still rocking, she followed his gaze to the table. Where she’d set down the map. That from here looked like . . .
She let the Hula-Hoop fall to the cement floor with a clatter.
It wasn’t a cave system. It was a body. The room at the top was the head. Arms to the sides. The waist curving into hips, the elevation of breasts. Cotton had made a topographical map. Of her. She saw it now. It was her body he’d drawn.
She joined him at the table, studying what he’d mapped. It was strange.
But wonderful, too. He’d studied her. Thought about her. All the many lines. The time and care it took.
“Is this how you see me?”
He stood, frozen in place, looking pained.
“Because it looks to me like this,” she said, pointing to the shoulder spot, “is right here.” Facing him, she took his left hand and matched it with her right shoulder. “And this is the curve here.” She followed the line of the map down with her finger, and then moved his right hand down to the spot above her left hip bone. She could feel the heat of his chest through his shirt. She was sure his heart was racing as fast as hers. He must have been holding his breath because he suddenly let out a kind of sigh. It made her insides turn loose and warm.
