The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,45

tucked into the booth, and her parents’ coffee and her freshly squeezed, extra-pulp orange juice was set in front of them, Mom asked, “Is there something you want to tell us?”

Ria wasn’t sure what they’d discovered. Less sure what they’d think about her caving trips. They’d probably see it as another one of her impulsive irresponsible actions. Or maybe they’d found out she was behind in her classes, as usual. She wasn’t going to guess or offer anything up. She could wait. They hated silence. It wouldn’t be long before they rushed in to fill the quiet.

They used to know everything she did, but never because she was the one to tell. Her teachers used to call or send home daily progress reports filled with stickers. When she first started diving, Mom or Dad always watched her practices. They knew everything because they were there. Then she’d sent them away, unable to have them interfere with Benny’s demands. Once she’d started driving herself to practice and had doubled up on the number of private workouts, she’d insisted they stay away from him completely. All communication had to go through her. It kept things simpler, cleaner. She couldn’t afford to have their doubts in her head when she was on the board. But right now they knew something.

“Congratulations, Ria.”

“The NDT wants you!”

Then, without a second for her to catch her breath, there was the shift.

“Why didn’t you tell us? Why are we hearing this from Benny? He said you’re feeling uncertain.”

“Are you worried about the expense? It’s no more than college. The better you do, the more sponsorships kick in.”

“I know it’s far, but we’ll come visit. I might even be able to work remotely. At least until you’re settled.”

“We can figure this out. We’re so happy for you.”

Ria set her forehead on the edge of the table, face down, breathing. They were moving so fast. In circles. Spirals. She’d barely wrapped her head around the fact Benny had told them. She was supposed to be the in-between. They weren’t supposed to talk to him.

“Ria? What are you doing?”

“Sit up,” said Dad. “Talk to us.”

She lifted her head. She knew she was reverting, back to acting like a wiggy little kid. Like someone who needed everyone else to decide what was best.

“You talked to Benny?”

Dad said, in the most annoyingly slow and even voice, the one he used to break down the most obvious of problems, “This is what you’ve been working for, Ria. You did it. You get to be part of the NDT.”

“This is an incredible opportunity. You are so lucky that they are still interested in working with you.” Mom’s voice carried a whiff of shrill.

“Do you know how few divers are chosen?”

“Do you know anything?” Ria couldn’t keep the scorn from her voice.

She knew she was being ungrateful. After everything they’d given her, all the money they’d spent, all the time they’d dedicated to making sure she could reach this point, she was awful to feel unsure. Maybe she could find a way to tell them the truth. To let them know the parts of diving she’d kept hidden from them. Maybe if she confessed her secret shame, that she wasn’t as perfect as they thought, maybe then they’d understand.

“Benny said . . .” Dad started.

There it was. If Benny said it, they believed him.

They trusted him. They knew she needed him. She could never dive without him. On her own, she always got everything wrong.

Twenty-One

Ria was late getting to school on Monday morning. She’d gone for a run, heading in the direction opposite from Cotton’s house. Not that she was likely to see him in the early dawn, but it was time to change up her route. Except she’d misjudged the distance and stayed out too long. Now, in the quiet parking lot, her mind raced, fast and loud. She couldn’t remember if she’d taken her medicine today. Or yesterday. Or when the last time had been. There was no point sitting in class if she couldn’t focus. Besides, she’d already missed too much of first period to bother, and with only a couple more classes, she might as well skip them.

So, she headed home. Now that she’d ruined things with Cotton, she didn’t have anywhere else to be. She hadn’t heard from him since she left him tapping away on his computer.

Her room didn’t fit her mood. It was too yellow, too crowded, too weighed down with clutter. All the pictures on her bulletin board