The Perfect Escape (The Perfect Escape #1) - Suzanne Park Page 0,45

I was the only one who stayed on the bus. A rumor went around school that I couldn’t go because I was too poor to pay for admission. That was only marginally better than the real reason for not going. That I was too chicken.

I had two choices. To scurry up the ladder as quickly as my legs could go, give Dad the water, rush back down, and piss in my pants. Or I could compose myself, slowly take each step in stride, still piss in my pants, but over a longer period of time. Neither option was “good.” But Dad’s patience was running out. His disappointment was at an all-time high. I had to make a move.

Panic immediately set in, and my fingers and feet tingled like they were falling asleep. My blood pulsed through my hands as I gripped the ladder.

Pulsing. Hammering. Throbbing. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Six rungs. Just six steps. Twelve, if you count the return trip. I attached the thermos’s handle to a carabiner and hooked it to my pants belt loop.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Left foot, right foot. Don’t look down. Step one.

Left foot, right foot. Don’t look down. Two.

Left foot, right foot. Don’t look down. Three.

A blast of wind hit the ladder, causing it to shimmy. I gripped it tighter, and my knuckles turned white.

Left foot, right foot. Four.

Left foot, right foot. Five.

Dad had moved to the other side of the roof, unfolding edges of the tarp and weighing them down with broken cinder blocks.

One more step, then Dad could come get the water from me and I wouldn’t need to go up any farther.

Unhooking the bottle with my eyes mostly closed, I bellowed, “I have your water!” The thermos dangled like I was doing hypnosis.

“Put it down.” No “thank you,” “good job,” or “thanks for risking your life for my hydration.” I didn’t care, though. My main priority was to be back on the ground.

I put it down on the roof, then with my eyes fully closed, I felt for the next step down.

“Naaaaate!” It was Lucy again, directly underneath me. Dizziness hit hard when I tried to look in the direction of her voice. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

“Luce! I’ll be down in a second.”

She choked back sobs. “I broke it! I’m sorry!”

“Luce, move away! I need to focus.” I still had five steps to go.

Now crying hysterically, Lucy took a shaky hold on the ladder. My eyes squeezed shut even tighter. “Luce! Move!”

My body was in full-blown panic mode. Heart pounding, lungs burning, full-body tense and tingling. The burn of bile made its way upward. Ironic, since I was trying to make my way down.

My left foot searched for the next metal platform of safety one more time. Lucy wailed as I made it down a level.

The next time, though, my foot was too close to the edge of the rung, which I would have seen if my eyes were open.

I slipped, of course, banging my knees on the rungs as I lost my grip. The entire front side of my body from the neck down got a metal spanking. I winced as my knees clattered to the bottom.

Lucy had stepped out of the way just in time, thank God, or she would have gotten two boots to the face. Seeing me fall from the ladder made her finally stop crying.

Slowly, I stood to assess the damage. Ripped pants from snagging screws, skinned arms and knees, and a turned ankle.

Terrific.

“Lucy,” I groaned, hobbling toward the house. “What were you crying about? You distracted me, you know that, right?”

She gaped at the blood oozing from my elbow scrapes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to wash off the blood and put some ointment on it.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry for Hermione too.” On the kitchen table, my limited edition Hermione figurine, circa 2002, lay outside her case. The box had been opened carefully, but