that made it easier to talk. It was also Cotton’s patient way of listening. It felt like he was waiting, not guessing what her words would be, with his answer ready before she finished. “If I placed in the top three, I’d earn a spot with the National Development Team. It’s an elite training club. There are others, but NDT is the best. It’s a very—with a capital V, B, and D—Very Big Deal.”
“Got it. NDT is a VBD.”
“The NDT is what we’d been working for. But then . . .” She shook her head, and her light traveled back and forth across the walls. She’d freaked out, screwed up.
“During a practice before the meet, there are always lots of coaches around. One of them yelled at me, and, well, I ran away.”
“Yelling is scary.”
He was right. It was that simple. But, also, more complicated. The situation had felt too charged. Benny had been on edge all week. Even more intense than usual.
“The floor was slick, and I went down, hard.”
Her knees and elbows had been banged up, but her confusing answers to their too many questions convinced them she had a serious head injury, too. She hadn’t even mentioned her chipped tooth. No one could understand why she’d been running.
“The stupid thing is, that coach, the one who was yelling, wasn’t mad. I’d left my shammy towel and she was giving it to me.” She’d felt so scared—terrified—when that coach had yelled her name. But she’d gotten it wrong.
Then Benny got riled up because he thought the woman pushed her. He’d accused her of trying to sabotage their practice. There was too much jealousy in the air, there always had been, ever since she started winning. All the other teams resented how a small-town nobody coach had the best diver. She and Benny always had to be even more perfect because people envied him.
And then she’d screwed up in front of everyone.
When someone produced the video that showed her in the background, it was clear the other coach hadn’t come near her. There was no question, the slip was Ria’s own fault.
“I freaked out for no reason.”
“You had a reason. Even if it wasn’t a reason other people understand. I used to freak out all the time. I always had a reason.”
She remembered. Everyone took turns freaking out back in Ms. Q’s room in elementary school. She was their special ed teacher, but the few hours they’d spent there each week had felt more like a vacation hideaway than a real class. Freak-outs hadn’t mattered as much in there.
“So, I didn’t compete.” Scratching the meet was the easiest way to stop the questions and the fighting. Her parents blamed a concussion. All she’d wanted was to make it all stop, right then. In the moment, it felt like her only choice. “But since I blew my biggest meet, my coach won’t work with me anymore. So I’m done.”
“Done,” echoed Cotton.
“It’s not like diving is a career. I had to quit eventually. And now it’s eventually.”
“Eventually never looks the way I think it will.”
She laughed, setting the helmet light bobbing. “What about you, Cotton? Why do you have a minimum schedule? Is it so you can go caving?”
“No. I didn’t plan to cave today. It was your idea.”
That was Cotton. Straightforward and stating the obvious.
“Well, then, why?”
“I want to learn more about mapmaking. So I’m taking online classes from the University of Virginia.”
“They have an awesome pool. With a brand-new platform.”
“That’s for the really high dives, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That will never be used by me,” he said.
“Not even online?” Ria paused, then said, “That’s a joke.”
“Yes,” he said. Then, “I prefer to stay on the ground.”
“And underground.” She stretched her arms over her head and twisted her torso. “Are you going on campus next year?”
“No.” He frowned. “I can’t leave my family.”
It was clear he didn’t have anything else to say about that.
“How much time do we have?”
“We have three minutes before we need to head back.”
“Let’s go now.” It would be a relief to stop straining to see beyond what her helmet revealed. This in-between place of not quite light or dark was exhausting.
When they reached the tunnel, Cotton stopped and asked, “Are you ready?”
“I think so.” Her light moved more enthusiastically than she felt.
This time, instead of facing the walls on every side of her, she closed her eyes. She crawled, letting her body disappear into the motion of it. Reach by reach, only forward, no hurry, refusing to let