panic settle in. She was surprised to feel a draft of cool air, and the sense of space widening. She opened her eyes again, then blinked against the reflections of the damp, sparkly wall.
“We made it through,” he said. “We’re almost back.”
She had no way of knowing if he was right. It all looked the same to her: mud and dark.
Her knees felt raw and bruised, even under the coveralls. Whenever her helmet scraped against the rocks, it sent vibrations across her skull and put her nerves on edge. She had no choice but to trust Cotton, to hope that he was as smart as she’d always thought. She’d copied his papers all through elementary school. She could copy his steps now.
Finally, a peek of sunlight appeared ahead. As they stepped out, she blinked and squinted in the bright day. She’d known Cotton forever, but somehow she’d missed the fact that his dark brown eyes were flecked with green. His face was slightly muddy and his hair completely wild now. Seeing him filled her with a giddy lightness. But that was probably due to the sunshine and the blue sky and had nothing to do with the line of his eyebrows, his nose, and his lips. The shadow of whiskers on his face made her feel like they’d been in the cave too long.
Nine
As soon as Ria walked in the door, she heard Mom announce her arrival. “She’s here.”
Her mother walked out of the kitchen as her father hurried down the stairs, each of them meeting her in the foyer. They had her surrounded.
“How are you, sweetheart? Did you have a good day?” Mom stared into Ria’s eyes, way too intently.
Ria looked down, tried to smooth her rumpled dress, saw that she had mud under her fingernails.
“It was fine.” She skirted around her dad and headed to the bathroom sink to wash her hands. She studied her face in the mirror. She was sure she still had mud tucked into her joints. Maybe it was inside her nose. She could smell it mingled with her sweat. The exact opposite of a day spent in the pool. Her arms and legs twanged with the effort.
They were waiting for her as soon as she stepped back into the hallway.
“Are you hungry?”
“I think I’ll go jump on the trampoline first.” She couldn’t bear the effort of eating with such an attentive audience.
“Not yet. We need to talk.”
Those words never led to anything she wanted to hear. No one ever “needed to talk” about anything wonderful. Good news spilled out, fast and frantic, shared without any warning. Need was about messes and mistakes. Troubles.
They sat in the family room. Her parents on the couch, Ria in the loveseat. The same positions as when she told them Benny had refused to keep coaching her. All the time and money spent on her sport had been wasted. Dumped on the floor with her wet towel.
“It’s been a while since we did a mood check-in.” Dad’s voice had a fake cheerful tone.
When she first started her ADHD meds, they did daily, then weekly check-ins, forcing her to examine her emotions. One of the costs of being able to focus better could be a shift in mood. But, for her, as long as she’d had her time in the pool, she could work off whatever messes filled her school day. Diving was her therapy.
“We’re worried about you. You seem depressed.”
“Which is completely understandable,” Mom interrupted.
“But we need to know how you’re feeling. What you might do.”
“I’m not suicidal.” Irritation burned in the back of her throat. She hated that they worried. It made her feel weak. Like she was still that wiggy little kid who’d hid in the janitor’s closet so she wouldn’t have to try to read her book report to the class.
After a minute, Dad broke the tense silence. “What do you know about Dayton Hill University?”
Nothing much. She had a vague idea their mascot was some kind of horned animal. She must have seen one of their recruiting scouts at a meet.
“Their coach wants to talk to you about diving.” Mom joined her on the loveseat, squishing in close and grabbing Ria’s hand.
“Why?” Ria pulled her hand back.
“She’s interested in meeting you.”
Mom couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. “They’re a Division One school. They’re already offering money. It could mean a full scholarship!”
Ria started to get up, but Dad stopped her.
“She wants you to come for a visit. No obligation, no commitment. The pool was redone last