One Moment (2 page)

“
That
,” Pete shouted with a laugh, “is the best rush in the world.”

“Maggie’s going up,” Shannon said. Her voice was tinged with vicious energy, making me more determined to follow through with the jump that had started out as a simple dare. Shannon had pulled the same thing the first time Tanna decided to jump. It was like she needed to be the only girl bold enough to take the thirty-foot plunge, but she’d just have to get over it.

Joey, Adam, and Pete had found the cliff one day during the summer before eighth grade. After a long upstream hike along the creek that bordered our sleepy nothing-ever-happens-here neighborhood in Blue Springs, Ohio, they came to the top of the cliff. Once Joey, the oldest of us all, had his driver’s license, he’d found an easier route, starting with a parking lot and one-mile trail. I loved the gorge, especially our Jumping Hole, even if Shannon was acting bitchy. Besides, I had more important things to worry about. Like survival.

“Rock on,” Pete said, pumping a fist in the air, flinging water everywhere.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t use phrases that include the word
rock
right now, seeing as how my main goal in the next twenty minutes will be to
avoid
all rocks,” I said, glaring at him.

“You’ll be fine,” Joey said, one hand rubbing my back, the other pointing to a spot halfway up the steep wall. Or halfway down, depending on how you viewed things. “All you have to do is miss that ledge and you’re golden.”

“Right.” I twisted my hair up into a messy bun and secured it in place with a hair band. “Miss the ledge. Golden. Does that mean I can have a swig of that tequila once this is over?”

“You can have anything you’d like,” Joey said, goosing my butt.

I squealed and jumped away from him, swatting at his hand. “Will you stop it? This is serious.”

Joey shrugged. “Made you laugh, didn’t I?”

“I’m too nervous to laugh.” I attempted to smile, but I wasn’t sure if it worked. “Let’s just go.”

Joey and I made our way down the trail, toward what we’d always called the Jumping Rocks, a natural bridge that crossed the creek and led to the cliff-top trail. I stumbled the first few steps but fell into pace beside him quickly, almost melting into his warm, reassuring body.

“It’s no scarier than The Beast,” Joey said. “That’s your favorite roller coaster at King’s Island, isn’t it?”

“The Beast has a harness to strap me in. Doesn’t compare.”

The trail twisted to our right just downstream from the Jumping Hole, and Joey hopped across several boulders bridging the narrower section of water. When he reached the middle and largest rock, he stopped and held out his hand. I leaped toward him, crashing into his lean body, almost toppling him over.

We laughed and bowed our heads together. He kissed me lightly on the lips. “You can do it,” he whispered, the tart smell of the beer he’d drunk invading me.

“Sometimes, when I’m with you, I feel like I can do just about anything.” I almost told him that I loved him. It would have been the perfect moment. But whenever I thought about saying those three words, I remembered what Joey had said when we’d first started dating.

We’d been driving—to Shannon’s for one of her infamous, my-parents-are-out-of-town-again parties—and I was talking about how, even though it’s totally cliché, I’d had that butterfly feeling in my stomach while I was waiting for him to pick me up. He’d looked at me then, maybe sensing where I was headed after three months of dating, and said, “Can we make a deal?” I’d been a little nervous but nodded my head anyway. I remember the taste of my Razzy-Tazzy lip gloss, how it turned bitter with my fear of what he was about to say. “Let’s never pull the
I Love You
card. It’s like a curse. And I like you too much to let it ruin things.” He’d actually held his hand out. I thought he’d wanted to hold mine for the rest of the ride, but when my palm met his, his fingers curled upward like a Venus flytrap, and he gave my hand three short shakes before letting go. “It’s a deal,” I’d said with one of the fakest smiles I’d ever worn.

That had been about a year and a half ago. I wondered if the statute of limitations on our deal had passed. But standing there on the rock with Joey, with the steady flow of water rushing toward us and then away, with the steep dirt trail calling to me, I did not have the focus to wonder such things for long. I could deal with that later. After the last day of school, when we would officially be seniors. After our first time, which I’d secretly planned for the first week of summer when his parents were heading out of town for an entire week.

I took a deep breath, tasting the honeysuckle that saturated the air around the rock bridge, and swallowed my words. He knew I loved him. I didn’t need to say it.

My chest was heaving, my thighs screaming, but I pushed myself forward. I hadn’t climbed the narrow dirt trail leading to the top of the cliff since the previous fall, when I’d chickened out of the jump and had to scurry back down again. The light-headed feeling I’d experienced that day was threatening to take over again, so I tried to focus on my feet, the steps, anything but the reason that I was steadily moving away from solid ground.

“You’re lookin’ pretty good from this angle,” Joey said from behind me, swatting the butt of my black bikini bottoms. “Is it terrible that I’m hoping you lose your top on impact?”

“Joey, sometimes you border on pervert.”

“I’m a seventeen-year-old guy. Whaddo you expect?”

I turned, propping my hands on my hips. “Let’s switch places and see how you like being objectified.” Waving a hand in the air, I indicated that he should take the lead.

“Oh, baby!” Joey held on to my shoulders as he passed, leaning in to nip at my neck with his teeth. That’s when I noticed something different about him.

It was a bracelet. A small and totally insignificant accessory. But something about it bothered me.

I studied it as we climbed, the way the leather strap tied around his wrist slid up and down with the swing of his arm. The way the sun glistened off the three turquoise-colored glass beads threaded onto the leather.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked when we’d reached the flat part of the climb.

“Where’d I get what? My fine ass? My rippling muscles?”

“Your bracelet.”

Joey swung his arm up, as if he’d forgotten he was even wearing a bracelet. He paused for a beat. “Found it in the laundry room. I thought it was cool, so I snagged it. Rylan’s probably gonna be pissed.”

Something was off, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. And then I wasn’t sure if my stomach had bottomed out because of Joey and that bracelet, or because I was standing at the top of the cliff looking down at my friends, getting ready to jump. A breeze stirred and I swayed with the treetops, the prickly feeling of terror spreading through my body.

“You can do it, Maggie,” Tanna yelled up to me.

“Don’t stand there looking down for too long,” Adam called. “Just figure out how far right you need to be to avoid the ledge.”

Shannon must have said something, because I saw Tanna smack her arm.

“What’s her problem, anyway?” I asked, trying to focus on anything but the wide open space before me that was causing my vision to blur.

“Who?” Joey looked at me, his blue eyes eerily alive in the sunlight.

“Umm, Shannon,” I said, like he was clueless. “She’s being such a bitch.”

“Isn’t she kind of always a bitch?”

I shrugged.

“I thought that’s part of what we all love about her.” Joey wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Focus.”

I nodded once, feeling a little dizzy.

“You can do this.”

I nodded again, sure that the world was tumbling through space at super-warp speed with gravity pressing me forward and the universe itself daring me to leap over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m going to jump left, so you don’t have to worry about the ledge.”

“Can we hold hands?” I felt like a little kid, but I needed a connection to something real and stable if I was going to do this.

Joey smiled and bumped his nose against mine. “Of course.”

“How far back do we have to go?”

Joey took ten or fifteen steps away from the edge of the cliff, turned, and held out his hand. “We just need to get a running start.”

“Why does there need to be any running?”

“Momentum. We need to jump as far from the wall as we can.”

“Oh. Duh.”

I walked toward Joey and took his hand. He squeezed mine. I squeezed his in return. From where we stood, I could only see the edge of the cliff and a leafy batch of swaying treetops beyond. It was as if our friends didn’t exist.

“We’re gonna go on three,” he said. “You ready?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“You trust me?”

I looked at him then. Took in his freckled nose, the wisps of damp hair clinging to his forehead, the way his smile always tilted to the left.

I nodded. “I trust you.”

He squeezed my hand again. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

I ran my thumb up the inside of his wrist, feeling his blood, his life, pulsing through his body.

“One.”

The cool shock of those turquoise beads zapped my skin like I’d been electrocuted.

“Two.”

What was it about those beads?

“Three!”

Running.

We were running.

Almost there.

But the thunder of my feet crashed through something in my consciousness.

And I knew.

It was like I hit an invisible wall. One that did not exist for Joey.

I had been so close to flying.

Then, suddenly—I stopped.

2

The Ripple of My Fear

Screaming. Someone was screaming. Maybe more than one someone.

Or was that a trick?

The sound bouncing—bouncing—bouncing off the walls of the gorge.

I was on my knees. Sharp rocks biting into my bare skin. Little, prickly teeth.

What was going on?

I remembered climbing. Joey smacking my butt. But that was it.

Splashing. There was splashing, too.

And I remembered where I was.

At. The. Top.

But I wouldn’t look.

Couldn’t.

Then the screams broke open.

Turned into words.

One word—bouncing—bouncing—bouncing.

“No! No! No!”

And then I was running. Shades of green racing past me. Bright flashes of light.

Claws tearing at my legs, my arms, my face. Slicing me open.

Everything in my mind had flung itself into the air, splintered into a million tiny pieces, and rearranged itself into a jumbled mess.

I had to figure it out. Something. There was something I needed to understand. But I knew I didn’t want to. Whatever it was—back there.

Hide.

I could hide.

There, in the underbrush of that tree. The slender sprouts creeping up from the ground leaning against it like a leafy tent.

Perfect.

I slid under the waxy shelter, pulling my knees to my chest. My breath coming in short bursts, exploding out of me.

Tipping my head back was bad. It made me dizzy.

But forward was worse.

That made me throw up. The sticky mess covered my right thigh. I didn’t even bother to wipe it away.

There was something I had to understand.

I tried. Really I did. I’m not sure how much time passed as I sat there riffling through the disconnected bursts that whipped through my mind—one minute—or a million. And I couldn’t figure it out. Didn’t know if I would ever understand. Still, I kept trying. It was the only thing I could do.

But the footsteps interfered—heavy, clomping footsteps that made the earth vibrate beneath me.

I tried to hold my breath, to keep from shaking, so the ripple of my fear wouldn’t strike the person coming down the trail, so they wouldn’t know where I’d folded up and hidden myself.

It didn’t work. He felt me. And he stopped.

“Maggie?” he was out of breath. Like me. Huffing and puffing, sucking in the air like there wasn’t enough. “Maggie, I can see your feet.”

Feet. I looked at my feet, at the Totally Teal polish I’d painted on my nails last night. Just last night. For the party.

“I—” I tried to speak, but my throat was crackle dry, on fire.

Adam leaned down, crawled toward me, and put his hand on my knee. I saw blood and didn’t know if it was his or mine. “Are you hurt?”

Hurt?

I thought about that for a second. Shook my head.

Adam looked at me, the green of his eyes reminding me of sea glass. I could smell something rancid, and I wondered if it was me. Or him. Or something dead, rotting and seeping into the ground beneath us. Then I remembered I’d thrown up.

“Maggie,” Adam said, his voice slow and cautious, “what happened?”

I closed my eyes. Squeezed them tight. And I tried to remember.

“Screaming,” I said. “I heard screaming.”

“Yeah.” Adam ran a hand through his hair, tugging plastered strands of golden blond away from his forehead. “I meant before the screaming. What happened before the screaming?”

“The music,” I said. “Kid Rock. I remember singing ‘All Summer Long’ with Tanna and Shannon.”