The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,29

didn’t pull away. Under her thumb she could feel a rough, rounded spot along his. He had a hangnail by his pinky finger. They jumped together, slowly, barely enough to even be called jumping.

She bent her legs, pushed a little harder, rose a little higher.

They were a funny match. His weight brought him much lower, but he was less willing to release on the way up. She had to compensate for the space between the up and down. It added an unexpected thrill to the nothing kind of jumping.

They weren’t quite laughing as they bounced up and down, but the longer they jumped, the closer she felt to giddy. Silly. Buzzing. The dark of the night and the bright of the moon and the cool of the air, along with the funny little wrinkle between Cotton’s eyebrows added up to something she couldn’t name.

But then she pushed a little too much, went a little too high, and their rhythm was off. She came down a split fraction of a second later than he did. It wasn’t a big enough double-bounce to worry about, but there was a moment of off-centered movement in multiple directions.

Cotton collapsed on his butt, with his legs splayed out. She flipped over him so as not to land on top of him. She burst out laughing, and a second later, he joined her.

As their eyes met, something new—hot and surprising—hit Ria in her middle. She held the gaze, all the while feeling awfully close to breathless until he dropped his eyes.

“I’d better go home now.” He crawled toward the edge.

Ria balanced her weight on the narrow frame, then leapt, landing in the damp grass. The ground felt excessively solid and unforgiving after so much time on the springy trampoline. Gravity reminding her there was no escape.

“Leo and I are going caving tomorrow. You can come with us.” Cotton sat on the frame of the trampoline with his legs dangling over the edge.

“I’d like that.” She held out her hand to help him down. A painful shock traveled between them.

“Ow!”

“Static electricity,” said Ria. “Sorry! It builds up.”

Cotton kept his hands tucked behind him, like he didn’t quite trust her. He was taking reasonable precautions.

“I can give you a ride home.”

“No, thank you. I’ll call my dad. It’s late. And you have . . .” They both looked over at Sean. “I think he’s going to feel ill tomorrow.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But Sean doesn’t seem to mind hangovers. I can’t stand it when my body won’t do what I want it to.”

“He has no idea where he is. I could never let myself be that out of it. Not if I have a choice.”

He was thinking about Esther again. Still. Always. Esther had made the choice to go out to play, but something had happened to keep her away. She’d gone somewhere, expecting something, but then . . . At what point was her choice not her choice anymore?

After Cotton left, Ria threw a blanket over Sean. She stood near, watching him sleep. He mumbled something. Cotton was right. Sean had no idea where he was.

She brought her pillow and sleeping bag out to the trampoline, the way she and Maggie used to do. She looked up at the stars through one eye, then the other. Bringing them close and letting them go again.

Fourteen

Ria woke to the sound of the back door opening. She felt warm in her sleeping bag, but the outside of it was damp, and the air felt cool on her face. Fall was creeping in, bringing a new hint of chill to the air. She’d left her contacts in all night and now her eyes ached. She blinked to clear them, then lifted her head and saw Mom peering out on the patio where Sean still slept. Ria waved and slipped off the springy trampoline, into the wet grass.

Mom raised her eyebrows in question and mimed talking on the phone. Ria nodded to confirm that Sean’s parents wouldn’t be worried about him.

They’d had plenty of practice communicating through sign language. She’d learned from Benny, who could coach an entire dive list without saying a word. He’d simply gesture and point to the body parts he wanted her to focus on. She and Mom had created their own communication system during meets when Ria was stuck on the pool deck. Those conversations had been predictable. Good job. I’m hungry. I need a new towel. Having her passed-out boyfriend there in the morning was more complicated.