The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,44
hear the old familiar resentment in her friend’s voice. The cost of being special.
“I think Benny’s starting to worry about money. He sold the extra trampoline.”
Maggie blamed her, but she had the details wrong. Benny hadn’t told the team about the NDT. He hadn’t been part of the original plan, the one before Ria lost her mind and ran away from nothing at her most important meet. The team didn’t know he might be leaving. She should have told Maggie as soon as she got the invite. Keeping the news in the dark had made it grow. It was too enormous to simply say. Not when Maggie looked so desperate. Besides, telling Maggie the truth now would make it one step closer to true.
If she went to the NDT, she’d be gone. Really gone. She’d say goodbye to Maggie and Sean . . . and Cotton. She’d skip the rest of her senior year. She’d miss prom night, whether or not it was the bloodbath shown in the old movie. And Maggie would lose her chance to keep diving. Because Ria would take Benny away too. She’d be with him a million—or, according to Cotton, 1,500—miles away, with no one else around.
She’d signed that letter of commitment, but they couldn’t make her go. Her parents didn’t even know about the invitation yet. She couldn’t go if they didn’t pay.
“Don’t worry about Benny, Mags.”
“But I need to get that scholarship. If he shuts down . . .”
“He can still help you get a scholarship even if he isn’t here. Make him talk to coaches for you.”
“I can’t make him do anything.”
It was true, but only because Maggie wasn’t willing to push. She was too afraid of hearing no.
“Help me eat these brownies,” said Ria.
Now she was thinking of all those girls who didn’t get asked to the prom. They must have stayed at home, crying into their pillows. They had no idea they were the lucky ones.
Twenty
Early the next morning, Dad interrupted Ria’s croga—cross-yoga—stretching, with random-weighted objects designed to increase the challenge.
“Are you cooking or cleaning?” he asked from the doorway.
“Am I being too loud? I dropped the potatoes.”
“Get ready. Mom’s waiting for us. We’re going out.”
He was up to something. She recognized that mischievous way he was trying not to give something away. He had a terrible poker face.
In the back seat of the car, she didn’t bother wondering where they were headed. It had been ages since they’d done anything together, so the possibilities were wide open.
She’d finally texted Sean last night, after dinner. He’d come over and stayed late to make up. Cotton was right. Sean hadn’t meant to make her upset when he’d let Benny surprise her. She’d had no right to charge in on Cotton’s life, dumping her misplaced mad on him. No wonder he’d ignored her in his garage. He didn’t need to get dragged into her messes.
She and Sean had carefully avoided mentioning the pool or Benny or her storming away or pretty much anything except the video she’d sent him of stunt-fails. Someone else’s pain was always good for a laugh. They’d moved on to other safe topics. Or, more accurately, kissing was an excellent way to not talk about anything.
She couldn’t stay mad at Sean when she’d been such a disloyal girlfriend. She’d trade being mad at him about letting Benny into the pool for not having to tell him the way she’d thought about Cotton in his garage. She wasn’t sure it was completely even, but close. Anger had never been easy for her, anyway. She’d dodged other people’s so often; she didn’t know how to hold on to it herself.
As soon as her parents pulled into the parking lot of Donna’s Diner, Ria’s stomach clenched. Damn. Something was up.
They only went to Donna’s for celebrations or punishments. When she did her first back-double, they came here straight from practice. The time she was suspended for coating the girl’s bathroom ceiling with wet-paper-towel bombs in order to avoid a math test, this was where they had a recovery-strategy meeting. After winning Junior Nationals, it was their first stop as soon as they were back in town. The morning after the night in eighth grade when she and Maggie snuck out and walked to the all-night doughnut store at two in the morning, they made her eat at the plastic counter while watching the cooks and breathing in all the grease and sweetness. Pancakes had always had a bittersweet flavor.