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Sure. That’s great. Then if Kal plummets to his death, I can kindly say—no thanks.
He stares at me. “Are you contemplating on backing out once I’m gone?”
Okay, so he’s handsome and bright. I clear my throat and tell the truth. “Only if you break away, falling to your doom.”
“Okay, maybe you need to go first.”
“Fine. I don’t care.” Only—I do. I care a lot. But Spontaneous Meg refuses to let that thought out. She’s in charge and keeps my protests quiet.
A woman with black hair and full red lips clips into the zipline. The men don’t ask her to jump—she just goes. She steps right off that curb, thirty feet in the air. And she does so smiling. She holds to the line buckled near her chest and zooms down the mountain. Whooping a happy yelp the entire way.
She didn’t plummet.
She didn’t die.
And I am Spontaneous Meg.
I clear my throat. “I’ll go first.”
Kal shows the man his phone, digital tickets for our ride. When did he have time to purchase those?
And then, I’m being strapped in. Kal helps me with the harness, his warm hands brushing the skin of my thighs and middle—he’s a good guide, as he says nothing about the tremor visibly making its way through my body.
The worker connects me to a second clip and hands me a teal helmet. My fingers shake, and Kal takes the helmet from my hands.
“Let me get that for you.”
With the zipline worker stepped aside, Kal places the helmet on my head, clipping it beneath my chin. His fingers linger there, his thumb lifting to trace the bottom edge of my lip.
I swallow. “Thanks,” I say, dipping my head and backing up an inch—away from Kal’s touch.
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “You’re welcome.”
The worker helps me find some bearing on my zipline seat and instructs me on where to hold. My heart is pounding, ready to burst from my chest. My breaths come out uneven and restless. Maybe this was a bad idea.
A zipline?
That doesn’t feel very responsible.
I look up at Kal, ready to bolt. Though it might be difficult in this getup.
He winks, locking his eyes on mine. “You’ve got this, Spontaneous Meg. Bravest girl I know.”
I’ve got this. I’m brave.
I swallow. Nod. Grip as tight as I can to the rope at my chest. “Push me,” I tell the worker.
And he does.
22
Kal
I take pictures of Meg for as long as I can see her.
She’s smiling.
No, she’s glowing.
