Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) (9 page)

Chapter 10

 

The van heads northeast and climbs into the hills. Soon we’re driving along a road lined with green trees on one side and occasional views of the sea on the other. Now that I’ve started glancing at Grayson’s profile, I can’t stop.

Maybe fifteen minutes into the drive, I brave speaking to him.

“Have you ever been zip lining before?” I ask.

His head moves slightly in my direction, but he doesn’t turn around. In fact, he faces all the way forward again. At first I don’t think he’s going to answer. I’m about to return to my window when he says, “A few times.”

His voice is tense, not surprisingly. It hurts anyway. I remember how his voice sounded when he said my name that night.

I press forward. I can’t help myself. “Is it scary?” I ask, careful to make my voice sound normal.

Again, I don’t think he’s going to answer me, but his face softens a bit. When he speaks, his voice isn’t quite as hard. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“Not really.”

“You’ll be fine.”

He could be talking to anyone, there’s so little familiarity in his voice. Maybe it was a mistake to try to talk to him. Why did I?

“Though,” he adds, “you don’t strike me as the zip lining type.”

I couldn’t say for sure, but I get the feeling he said that just to get under my skin. It kinda sorta worked.

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” I say firmly.

“Yeah, no kidding.” I can only see his profile, but his face has hardened. I immediately regret my remark.

I glance behind me. Freaking Bobby is still wrapped up in Miss Cotton Candy and not paying attention to my conversation.

I lower my voice and lean toward Grayson slightly. “Grayson,” I say softly, pleadingly. He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, but doesn’t turn his head. “I...”

“Hey, no big deal,” he says.

I frown and lean back against my seat. The minutes drag on in silence. I look back out the window. There’s nothing but trees now, and no more views to the sea.

Grayson and I don’t speak for the rest of the drive.

 

 

We finally get to the top and unload at the first platform. Here, we start putting on our harnesses, helmets, and gloves. It’s nice to have something to do besides stare at the back of Grayson’s head (or determinedly try
not
to stare, take your pick, because I was doing both).

The sturdy, wooden platform is near the top of a wooded incline. The line runs slightly downward to another platform some three hundred feet away. We’re presented a gorgeous view of the mountain, valley, and the trees, but no view of the sea yet.

This first run is relatively short. From what I read online, the runs start out short and get longer, apparently to help newcomers get used to things first. There are eight runs altogether, working their way back down the mountain and to the coast.

The guides divide the crowd roughly into two, with two guides each. Grayson’s eyes meet mine as we realize we’ve just been put into the same group. As there’s still some shuffling going on, I consider switching groups to make things more comfortable for both of us. But he’s not looking at me with hardness or anger or really any emotion I can define. He’s just kind of... looking at me.

Acceptance. That’s what it is.

I’m here and he’s here and we’re here together and we’re going to be in the same group. Maybe we can handle that.

I stay where I am. One of our guides calls us up onto the platform and Grayson pulls his eyes away from mine at last.

I exhale quietly through my lips.

Okay. I can do this.

Then I get onto the platform, with the front edge leading to a sizeable drop, and I’m not so sure I can do this at all. Forget Grayson. How high up are we?

I cautiously shuffle nearer to the railing at the front and look over. Oh god, what was I thinking? That’s a fucking
long
way down. I’m starting to wonder if Sam didn’t have the right idea after all.

I examine the cable leading from our platform to the next one. Why is the cable so saggy? I thought it’d be more taut. Is that normal?

The guides don’t seem too concerned. The cute one I saw laying down the law over a certain pair of high-heels earlier—Connor, I think he said his name was—asks if there are any first-timers in the group. My hand shoots up, along with Miss Cotton Candy (who suddenly seems much more friendly in my eyes), a middle-aged couple, and a guy who’s maybe thirty.

The rest of the group—some five people including Grayson and my brother—are around my age and looking relaxed and excited. The only people I remember meeting are the middle-aged couple, who are related to Shane but I don’t remember how, exactly.

“Okay,” Cute Connor the Guide says, “no need to worry. We’ll go over exactly how this is going to work.”

I pay close attention as he gives us the instructions. He’s both easy-going and confident, something that’s setting me a little more at ease. He likes to say ‘don’t worry.’ As in, “If you can’t slow down at the end, don’t worry, we’ll catch you.” And, “If you get stuck on the line, use your gloved hand to bring yourself in, like this. But don’t worry if you can’t pull yourself in, we’ll come get you.”

It’s a little weird for him to be so calm and collected about things like not being able to slow down and getting stuck on a little wire way, way,
way
above those teeny, tiny trees down there.

I close my eyes and take a breath. Okay. I gotta stop psyching myself out. People do this all the time, right?

I look at the people who’ve done this before. I almost startle at the sight of Grayson. I practically forgot he was here. Okay. It’s alright. See how relaxed they all look? It’ll be fine.

He gives me a slightly puzzled look.

What?
I think.
I’ll be fine.

I return my attention to Cute Connor who gives us a dazzling smile and says, “That’s it! I’ll go first and demonstrate.”

He and the other guide unhook a rope that’s blocking the opening that leads to the rest of the platform. They re-hook the rope, to make sure none of the rest of us wander out nilly willy onto that little Launch Pad before it’s time, I suppose.

Cute Connor steps up to the other guide, the squat one with a bit of a potbelly, and reassuringly strong-looking arms. I think his name is Frank. Or is it Felix? Forest?

“All you have to do is stand here,” Connor says, “and Fred here will hook you up.”

Fred. Yep, that’s it. Fred attaches Connor’s harness carabiner to the line, then he attaches the safety strap to the line.

That’s right. Two straps. That’s good. I’m okay with two straps.

Connor shows us how to hang on with our gloved hand to help keep our body straight and, later, to brake.

“Those of you who want to ride freestyle and try some tricks,” he says grinning, “feel free.”

Tricks? I think he must be kidding, but some guys who’ve gone before start high-fiving each other.

I’m starting to wish I’d done more than watch just the tutorial video on the website. I thought about going to YouTube and looking for more, but I was afraid I’d freak myself out, especially if I came across videos with titles like “Man Plunges to Death in Zip Line Accident!”

All hooked up, Connor steps off the platform and away he goes. The hum of the line vibrates in my ears as he speeds along. I watch until he’s safely on the other platform, then let my eyes fall and fall to the canopy below.

“Don’t look down,” Grayson says lowly.

I do jump that time. When’d he come up next to me? “Huh?”

“Don’t look down,” he says. “When you’re out there, look at the horizon. It’ll make things easier.”

I look at the horizon, processing his advice.

Before I can say anything, Fred says, “Who’s first?” and Grayson steps forward. “I’ll go.”

We’re both kind of near the little opening to the Launch Pad. Fred unhooks the rope so Grayson can step out. I rub a thumb over the palm of my thick leather glove and watch as Fred gets things set up.

Just before he steps out, Grayson breaks out into a crooked grin. He doesn’t just step off, he
launches
himself off the platform and goes flying down the line. My heart goes flying with him, for all sorts of reasons. Again, there’s that humming as Grayson’s carabiner slides down the steel cable.

I can’t believe the way he flew off the platform. Several seconds later, he’s on the next platform.

“Okay, next,” Fred says.

“I’ll go,” one of the experienced guys says, approaching the rope eagerly.

“I don’t know if I want to do this,” Cotton Candy says behind me, but she’s kind of laughing and I don’t think she’s really going to back out.

As I watch the guy get hooked up, I wish I’d gone. I’m getting more nervous the longer I stand here. I need to get this over with before I start thinking seriously about going back to the van.

The guy steps off the platform and slides down the line, which is humming again. I’m starting to get used to the sound. “Wooo hooo!” the guy hollers. Half way down he lets go of the line so he can spin around.

Uh, no. No thanks, for me.

My nerves rise as he gets closer to the other platform, hollering enthusiastically all the way. If I’m going to go next, it’s almost time.

Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, I glance back and forth between the guy and Fred, who watches dispassionately as the guy reaches the opposite platform.

“Next.”

“Me,” I say urgently.

“Alright Chloe!” Bobby says behind me. I glance back and he gives me an enthusiastic thumbs up. I give him a shaky smile then look forward again. The butterflies are really loose in my chest now.

Fred unhooks the rope so I can cross through to that side of the platform. I get into position as I saw everyone else do. I watch as Fred hooks me up, making sure he really does it right. As if he wouldn’t. But still.

And just like that, I’m attached to a three-hundred-foot steel cable dangling over a drop I’d rather not think too much about, if it’s all the same to you. I almost look down, but then remember what Grayson said and look out at the view instead.

I grip the strap where it connects to the front of my harness, grab the cable above me with my gloved hand as instructed, and make myself put one foot in front of the other until there’s nothing left but
nothing
and I’m suddenly zipping along.

I thought it’d feel like dropping on a roller coaster, but it doesn’t. The wind’s rushing past and I’m sailing down the line and it’s...
amazing.

I look at the broad view to my right and the pine-topped hills sliding by. In the distance to my left, there’s a few puffy white clouds. Their shadows stretch across the mountainside. I’m nearing the platform and start pulling down slightly with my gloved hand. Sure enough, it works! I start slowing down and then I’m there, headed for a padded wall directly in front of me. But my carabiner catches on the cable on the other side and Cute Connor slows me down just in time to stop before hitting the wall.

I’m back on my own two feet and grinning from ear to ear like an idiot.

“I did it!” I say to Cute Connor, who’s smiling and getting me unhooked.

I look to Grayson, who’s grinning at me too.

“I did it!” I say again. “That was fucking awesome!”

Grayson laughs and my heart soars and oh how I just want to run up to him and hug him. But I don’t. Instead I settle for smiling at him and letting him smile back at me.

Connor steers me out of the way, to make room for the next person. The guy who went before me is leaning over the railing toward the group on the other platform, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Come on Victor, you chicken!” he hollers, then laughs.

I’m still reeling from my victory. See that big ol’ steel cable right there? I just sailed my ass right down it and it was fantastic!

I look behind me but don’t see another cable. “Hey, where’s the next one?” I ask.

“Over there,” Grayson says, pointing, and now I see a platform a ways off. “We take that trail right there.”

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