Breaking the Rules: The Honeybees, book 1 (17 page)

We turned out onto an open stretch of road, and Taco barked out the window at a bird flying past.

“Look, skydivers!” Devin exclaimed, and I stared up at the falling figures, twirling and floating through the sky. “I didn’t know there was a location out here. Must be new.”

“It looks like fun,” I had to admit. From this vantage point, the three skydivers looked like they were traveling in slow motion, not free falling through the air. “Just think of the view they must see from up there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Devin said. “You could see everything. I bet you can see the coastline while you’re falling.”

“You think?”

He nodded. “You’d be surprised. Perfect day for it too.” He eyed me, and I knew what he was thinking before he spoke. “Want to give it a try?”

I hesitated. “Isn’t that the one thing I told you I’d never do?”

“It sure is,” he said. “And I told you to never say never. Now’s your chance.”

I looked up at the figures again. Two of the skydivers were disappearing behind trees, and as we drove closer, I saw an open field that stretched out half a mile out from the road where the divers were landing.
 

“SKYDIVING,” read a huge neon sign pointing the way.

He turned to me with excitement in his eyes. “Let’s do it!”

“I’m really nervous,” I said, feeling lame. “What if I get hurt?”

“You won’t get hurt,” he assured me. “I’ll protect you. You might even be able to go with me.” Devin explained how newbies were required to jump tandem, strapped to the back of someone certified, which he was.

“But what about Taco?”
 

“Hmm,” he said. “It’s a little warm to leave him in the car, even with the windows cracked. But maybe they’ll let us tie him up somewhere so he can hang out in the grass while we go.”

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this. “Okay,” I said. “If they don’t mind Taco being there, and if I can go with you, I’ll do it. I trust you.”

He parked in the lot, and, almost shaking with nerves, I followed him into the small concrete building. While he made the arrangements, I walked around looking at the photos on the walls. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to do this. Me! Here!
 

I was doing something unpredictable, something totally unlike me. Devin really was changing me.
 

I wandered back over to the counter, where Devin was talking with the manager. “…We’re not really supposed to, but if you make sure to secure him really, really well, that’s fine,” the manager was saying. “One of our employees brings his dog sometimes, so we have a water bowl and everything.”

“That’s great!” Devin said, and set about tying Taco up in the designated place.
 

“There’s absolutely no way he can get out, right?” I asked when he got back.

“None,” he confirmed.

The plane was available almost right away, and we got in. It was a tiny plane with two long seats, and as we began ascending, Devin strapped me to him, back to back. My heart was fluttering with nerves, but as I stared out over the beautiful landscape below, I calmed a little. Okay, I could do this. I’d been in a plane before. This all made sense.
 

The ocean glittered off to one side, and I was pleased that Devin had been right about seeing the view from here. I was proud of myself for going so far out of my comfort zone like this.
 

And then the man in charge opened the huge door, and more of the view opened up. One by one, the people on the other bench scooted forward and then disappeared out the side of the plane. Suddenly this experience went from one I understood—I’d been in planes before—to one that felt surreal and terrifying.

Oh no. I was making a huge mistake.
 

When it was our turn, Devin scooted toward the edge and sat us with me facing out the plane. I could see everything down below us: the ocean, the forest, the parking lot, the tiny dot of the concrete building where we’d left Taco.
 

My heart was pounding, and I could feel myself starting to freak out. “Wait, no,” I said. “Never mind, I changed my mind.” My words came in a rush, and my voice sounded high-pitched and strange.
 

Devin scooted us a couple of inches forward. “Devin, I can’t do this.” But even I knew that it was too late to turn back now.

“Sophie, you’ll be fine,” he assured me, and then we tumbled out of the plane together, hurtling down toward earth at alarming speed.
 

I have no memory of the next few seconds, as my brain struggled to make sense of its new situation. Then I remember feeling the rush of wind past my ears and face, the feeling of Devin’s back pressed into mine, as pieces of my surroundings clicked back into place. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit,” I was saying, not usually one to curse since I spent so much time around kids—but if ever there were a time for it, this was it.
 

“You’re okay,” Devin was saying, though maybe it was just the wind. My heart was pounding out of control. I tried to look down, sure that we were about to crash into the earth, but the wind kept my chin up. My ears were cold. I no longer felt a sense of acceleration—it felt like we were staying still while the wind whipped upward around us.

And then,
Whoosh!
I felt as though I were jerked upward without warning as the parachute was released and it spread out above us, slowing our fall. Suddenly the whistling wind stopped, and we were just floating gently, no longer free-falling.
 

I caught my breath and looked around me for the first time. I could just barely still see the edge of the ocean, craggy cliffs leading into blue with sparkling silver where the ocean caught the sun. The huge, majestic sequoias and gentle hills looked dwarfed from this height, and off in the distance I could see fields and fields of perfectly aligned rows of grapes—maybe even one of the vineyards we’d visited just the day before.
 

I was doing it! I was facing my fears and skydiving, and I was going to be okay! I was trusting Devin and letting myself be spontaneous and take chances! And it was fun!

Now that the free-fall was done, I almost wished there were more of it. Now that I saw the end in sight as we floated toward the earth, the wind turning us in one direction and then the other, I was enjoying myself.
 

“You see, you’re okay,” Devin’s voice came from behind me, and I wished I could grab his hand and squeeze him.
 

“Thank you,” I said instead.
 

“Here, I’m going to do some twirls,” he said, “so you can see in all directions. If you want to stop, just let me know.”

And he maneuvered us so that we spun round and round, and I took in the incredible view as the tiny trees and vehicles got bigger and bigger. The twirls were fun, not scary, and I felt securely fastened to Devin, sure that he’d protect me from anything that came our way. We looped our way closer and closer to the earth, and the tiny toy cars below grew bigger and bigger, looked more and more real as we approached the land. Devin had aimed us for the middle of the field and was straightening out, and we were only fifty or so feet up now, coasting in for a landing.

And then—“Oh shit.” This time it was Devin.
 

“What is it?” I asked in alarm, and on the next twist around I saw.
 

It was Taco. Taco had gotten loose and was running through the open field below us.
 

“No!” I gasped in disbelief. “I thought you tied him up well!”

“I did!” he insisted. “There was no way he could’ve gotten free.”

Taco stopped then and looked up, seeming to locate us in the sky, and barked. From our vantage, I could just hear the sound. We were getting closer and closer to the ground. Why hadn’t an employee realized he’d gotten free and come to grab him?

“Devin, stop spinning!” I said as Devin craned to keep Taco in his view and the horizon went sideways.
 

“I’m trying!” he said. “Paco, sit! Stay!”

The dog ignored him, and from the corner of my eye I could see him running back and forth below us. His barking got louder. We were almost on the ground now. He ran and leaped around us.

I was jerked sideways as Devin struggled to land us without hitting Taco. “Lift your legs up!” he yelled, but at that moment, mere inches from the ground, Taco burst through us at top speed and threw us even further off-kilter. My foot hit the ground first and I knew what was about to happen even before I felt the splitting pain in my leg.
 

Devin landed on top of me and struggled to right himself as Taco bounded over to lick his face.
 

I moaned in pain, and that was the last thing I remembered before I fainted.

When I woke up, Devin was peering at me with concern and fear. “Sophie? How do you feel?”

“Where am I?” I asked. I felt groggy and confused. I tried to shift to look around, and felt a horrible, shooting pain in my leg.
 

“Don’t move,” he said quickly. “You’re in the hospital.”

“My leg!” Everything suddenly came back to me in a flood of memory, and I felt panic rising within me. “Is it broken?”

Devin, sitting in a chair beside my bed, studied his hands for a moment. “Yes. Sophie, I…I’m so sorry.”

“Broken! The…oh no oh no, the marathon!” I almost shot up in the bed, and Devin put a gentle hand on my arm to keep me in place.
 

“I know,” he said quietly.
 

I felt like someone was lying on my chest, squeezing me until I couldn’t breathe. The marathon. Everything I’d poured my heart and soul into these last few months was ruined. All that training, all that worrying, all those early-morning runs. For nothing.
 

I turned away from Devin as best I could without moving my leg, and felt the hot tears streaming down my face. Everything I’d worked so hard for gone in a single instant, and it was all Devin’s fault.
 

He took my hand, but I pulled it away.
 

I’d been right not to trust him. I’d been right to assume that his spontaneity would get me into trouble. I’d been right to plan out everything, to consider the ups and downs before deciding, not to just get swept up in his excitement.
 

I knew it. Devin was trouble. Taco was trouble. And I couldn’t expose myself to it anymore. I couldn’t expose myself to them.
 

I could tell I’d been given some sort of pain meds, but I tried to think and speak clearly through the fog. “Devin,” I said, turning back to him. “I love you, but I just can’t do this. I can’t be with you.”

“Sophie…” He deflated, looking stricken and hopeless. “You’re the last person on earth I’d ever want to hurt. I can’t believe I let that happen to you.”

His eyes were starting to tear up, but I didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to have to feel bad for him right now, when all my hopes and dreams had just been dashed. My greatest goals, destroyed.
 

I looked away. “Please leave,” I said. I closed my eyes, and after a minute I heard him stand up slowly, felt a light kiss on my forehead, and then he was gone.
 

CHAPTER 7

My memories of the rest of that day are hazy: the doctor coming in, various nurses coming in and out, being poked and prodded and having the cast put on my leg. My cheeks were wet with tears, and I wasn’t sure which I was crying about more, Devin, the marathon, or the pain in my leg.
 

He’d betrayed me. I couldn’t believe it. Devin knew how much the marathon meant to me, and he’d promised to keep me safe. He’d taken me to do the one thing I’d said I’d never do, and he’d let me down, let me get hurt. Destroyed my dreams. Destroyed my ability to show my old classmates I was capable of big achievements. The one thing I was supposed to have to be proud of.

I took the next day off work and lay in my bed all day, crying. I hadn’t felt this low since Matt had left me—well before, actually. This hurt so much worse. So much worse than anything I could remember.
 

Mid-day, I blew my nose and sat up. I couldn’t lie around feeling sorry for myself forever. Instead, I pulled out my list of rules that I’d written months earlier, that night in the park when I’d first met Taco.

Sophie’s Rules for Getting Life Back on Track Before the Reunion

1. Join a group and make new friends.
 

2. Get healthy.
 

3. Start a new hobby.
 

4. Always be working toward a goal.
 

 
It felt like it had been years since I’d written these rules. Yet had anything changed? I’d joined the running group, but I hadn’t made any new friends there—I’d spent all my time talking to Devin. As for “get healthy,” I’d lost maybe two pounds—though with the cast on, I was now heavier than when I’d started. I’d started a new hobby, sure, but with the cast on for the next six to eight weeks, it was a hobby no more. And as for working toward a goal, that dream had crashed and burned the moment Devin and I had crashed down onto the skydiving field once Taco had broken free.
 

I was right back where I’d started with nothing to show for all that effort—worse, in fact, because now I couldn’t even walk. And my high school reunion was less than a week away.
 

I was a mess. And it was all because of Devin and Taco.

Depressed, I ripped the list out of the notebook and shoved it into my pocket, then pulled myself out of bed and struggled to hobble over on my crutches to make a cup of tea. Everything was so much harder on crutches. Balancing one of the crutches against the sink, I reached into the cabinet for a mug. There, alongside all my perfectly matched, pristine white mugs, was the black, red, gold, and tan ceramic mug that Devin had bought for our outing to the beach. Feeling like I’d been punched in the gut at the sight, I pulled out the mug and made my tea in it. Then I sat at the kitchen table, idly dunking in a gingerbread cookie and staring at the mug.