The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,13

were wide. Somehow their pace matched up precisely.

“I saw you dive once. During a swim lesson.” He hadn’t turned to look at her, hadn’t changed his pace, so she didn’t answer. A few minutes later he added, “It was an impressive defiance of gravity.”

She let his words hang between them for a minute. Felt the pride of being someone who could do something special. Even if she wasn’t that person now.

“I don’t dive anymore.” She pressed the tender spot on her chin and added, “Gravity always wins.”

Eight

The cave was only a twenty-minute walk from his house, probably thirty from hers. The borrowed coveralls felt thick and bulky. She was already sweating, and they hadn’t even done anything yet. She wished she hadn’t bothered with the sandwich. It was mixing with Benny’s smoothie, all churned up with anticipation.

“Did you change your mind?” he asked.

“No.”

Cotton pulled two helmets from his bag and handed her one. “Then put on Leo’s helmet.”

“Do I really need this?” She turned the surprising weight of it over in her hands.

“Yes. You really do.”

The helmet made her feel top-heavy and hyperaware of every one of her movements.

“Now we test the lights.” He turned the knob and the tiny bulb in the middle of his forehead glowed.

She reached for her own light, trying to copy his motion. Her fingers fumbled, unsure of what piece did what, until he moved in to help. As he guided her hand to the knob, he didn’t seem to mind being close to her, but she held her breath, keeping still.

“It’s working.” He raised her hand in front of her forehead. A tiny beam shone on her palm.

“We can stay in the cave for eighty-five minutes. That’s when I told my mother we’d return.”

He’d always been a rule-follower. Very absolute and literal. But it made sense that Mrs. Talley would worry. She must always think the worst, after what happened with Esther.

“What do I need to know?”

“I’ll lead. We’ll stick together.”

A tremor of adrenaline thrummed through her at the simple not knowing of what to expect. It made her eager and impatient to see if the feeling would last.

Cotton ducked his head and entered the cave with Ria close behind him. The opening was narrow, but after a few steps in, they could walk upright. The air felt cooler and smelled wet and heavy.

Her helmet light seemed brighter. The tiny beam that had been inconsequential in the sunshine now shone several feet out from wherever she directed her face. She could only see one stream of light’s worth at a time, making it hard to get her bearings. This place was eerie. Mysterious.

It wasn’t Fear whispering to her, exactly, but his cousin, Doubt, had arrived. Once again, she’d charged into something she didn’t understand. Leap first, look later. She reached out and touched the gritty, not-quite-sandy walls on either side of her.

“Are there any lions or tigers or bears in here?”

“There are no lions or tigers or bears.”

It was weird how his voice sounded quiet and muffled from ahead, but also echoed behind her.

“Is there anything else living in here?”

“There is a micro-environment of cave-dwelling creatures. Most are difficult to spot.” He walked faster. “But, around this corner . . .”

She almost bumped into him when he stopped.

“Look here.” He pointed to an opening in the rock at his shoulder level.

“I’m too short to see in. What’s there?”

“Climb up.”

“Just tell me.”

“I think it would be more satisfying if you saw it yourself.”

He could be stubbornly rigid. He wasn’t going to let this go. Even though she was feeling wary, she wondered, too. She scrambled against the rock, feeling a rough scraping at her knees. Her fingers grasped at the slippery dampness. Then, his hands were on her waist, lifting her the last few inches. She braced her weight on the damp rock and leaned forward on her elbows.

Weird little teardrop objects hung from the ceiling. One fluttered, stretching its webby wings. She pulled back in reflex. “Are those bats?”

“Yes!” His enthusiasm sent off a wave of vibrations through his chest and into her arm. He was right, this was something she’d had to see for herself.

“There’s gotta be a hundred of them.” She let her light run over their small furry bodies, but they ignored her. She breathed out, making more room for the awe growing inside her.

“It would be best if we didn’t wake them up.”

She tried to imagine what that would look like, but she’d never seen one bat fly, much less