get to make decisions. This was one of the guidelines we agreed on. You’re here as a guest. You don’t have the knowledge or the experience to make choices. You are to do as you are told.”
“But you don’t get to be a know-it-all.”
Ria stepped into the dark channel, away from their harsh words. As she moved along the slick trail, acquainting herself with these particular walls, another light’s glow came behind her. Leo had followed her.
“You’re smart to stay out of it,” he said.
“They sound so upset.”
“This argument is nothing. This is pleasant conversation. They’ll quit soon.”
She used to wish she’d had a brother or sister. Now she wasn’t so sure. But Leo’s prediction proved right, and soon Cotton and Flutie were with them again.
If it wasn’t for Leo’s alarm set to go off every half hour, Ria wouldn’t have had any idea how long they’d been inside the cave. With no sun and no outside world interruptions, there weren’t any of the usual ways to mark time passing. Reading the numbers on her mostly useless phone stopped meaning anything. They’d done some climbing after the pool room, enough that she wondered how close they were to the surface, but then the path flattened out so they could walk.
And walk. And walk.
Every so often, Cotton took a picture of a formation or variance in the rock. “To keep a record, so we know we’re on the right path.”
It didn’t seem entirely reliable, but it was something. Even the most distinct rocky shapes had started to look way too similar. She couldn’t swear they weren’t walking in one big circle. At one point she built a rock cairn, hoping they wouldn’t pass it again.
“I need a break,” Flutie said finally.
Ria was exhausted too. It didn’t matter in time how long they’d been going. It was the walking and climbing, but it was also the strain of the dim light. Of having to be aware of her head. Always thinking about where to put her feet, and hands, all of her.
“We need a place to break for real food and sleep,” said Leo. “We could probably make it back to the pool room.”
“Or we could see what’s ahead,” said Ria, unsure if she was being unreasonable. Going backward seemed like they’d be ending the trip. They’d be giving up before getting anywhere worth the difficulty of the work. She was still waiting for amazing.
“If we get too tired, someone is going to get hurt.”
The compromise was Cotton and Leo going on ahead, leaving Ria and Flutie waiting and sipping hot cocoa from Leo’s thermos.
“I want to see something,” said Flutie. “Like, really see it. Not with all the shadows and darkness.”
Ria knew what she meant, but it wasn’t an option at this point. No point wishing. Instead she said, “Hot cocoa was an excellent choice.”
“Mmm. Are you Cotton’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” She’d thought that was obvious. Maybe a vague sort of cluelessness ran in the family.
“Leo swears you’ve even kissed him. But wow. It’s so weird to think of him that way. He’s not exactly easy to please.”
“Me neither,” said Ria, realizing it was true.
“You’re so different from each other.”
In some ways, maybe. Ria leaned back against the rock wall. “Sameness is not the same thing as being in love.”
“Oh my God. You sound like Cotton. And you said ‘in love.’ My mind has been officially blown.” Flutie paused, then added, “In a good way.”
A clatter and stomping of boots on rock announced the return of the boys as they burst around the corner. There was a loud thunk and Cotton’s helmet flew off.
“Cotton!” Ria jumped up and grabbed it. “You knocked your light out.”
“I hit my head.”
“Duh,” said Flutie. Then, more gently, “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” He took the helmet from Ria. Jiggled the light, but it stayed dark. “Good thing I have another bulb.”
“And, we found a place. There’s a cool grotto ahead. Ria, you were right.”
“She usually is,” said Cotton.
She was certain that no one in the history of Ria had ever said that about her. He had such a different way of seeing things.
Once they’d fixed his helmet, they moved along the next passageway. Excitement and renewed energy radiated off all of them. The walls in this part of the cave were slick and even. Too smooth to take note of. Every inch was the same shade of brown.
And then, it wasn’t.
The cave opened up. The space wasn’t wide or long. It was bigger than her trampoline, but