The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,94

as not to tickle. “Make this spot touch the trampoline.”

Cotton moved forward, tucking and folding, then landing like a crooked lump.

“I think I forgot to straighten my legs.”

He’d also missed several other steps, but what he lacked in skill, he bolstered with effort. Again and again, he threw himself forward, his body in varying degrees of curled, stretching at the last second like he might land on his feet. At one point she was sure he was going to launch himself off the trampoline, but somehow, miraculously, he landed in a crumpled heap inches from the edge.

Eventually, he lay still on his back and let out a huge sigh.

“You’re a good coach.”

“That’s what I thought I would do. I wanted to be a coach. Like Benny.”

“Not like Benny. Like Ria.”

She rolled onto her back, looking up into the branches.

“I want to dive. I want to see how good I can get. I want to qualify for the Olympics and I want to win a big kick-ass gold medal. I want to be the best.” She sighed. “But if diving doesn’t work out, I guess I could be a stripper at the Big Top.”

“Yes. You could.”

It didn’t make sense to be insulted. It was her idea, and he was simply confirming something she already knew was true. She was athletic and graceful. Showing her skin was a matter of anatomy. She could keep her head and feelings to herself. And yet, she didn’t like Cotton agreeing so quickly.

Little bits of cloud floated behind the tree branches. They looked closer than usual. “Is it true that the sky isn’t really blue?” she asked. “Is it only an illusion?”

“What does ‘blue’ mean?”

“I don’t know. It means . . . blue.” She could feel it, sense it, maybe even taste it. But there wasn’t any better word to explain it. “I think the sky is blue. But it’s a different kind than the blue of water. Each blue is all its own.”

She rolled onto her side, facing him. She placed her hand palm-side down and stretched her fingers apart, wide and star-like. He did the same, placing his fingers carefully between hers. She could feel the heat of his skin near hers. It made her wish.

Her toes found his. Their feet pressed against each other, as if she was standing on his feet, and he was lifting her. She shifted again, bringing her hip into alignment with his. Not touching, but near. Their sizes didn’t seem so unevenly matched from this view.

She thought about kissing him, but he seemed too far away. It would take too much effort to get there. She might get lost.

It was all so confusing to want something that felt so terrifyingly, ridiculously inevitable and also completely impossible. She wished wildly that being with Cotton could be easier. Easy might be nice right now.

“I think you’re geeky, Ria.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“It’s true. You ask good questions and think hard thoughts. And you see things I miss. Plus . . .” He broke into that smile she loved. “You must be geeky, to be with me.”

“Yeah. I must be a supergeek. Maybe I could get a cape.”

“You could wear your cape to work at the Big Top.” He sounded a little too matter-of-fact to be joking. “But there are lots of other things you could do instead. You could be a hairstylist. Or a reporter. You could teach kids like me to do flips. You might want to be a cartographer and make maps. There’s not one right answer.”

Ria’s heart felt a little bit lighter. It would be nice to think she had choices. Choosing meant something. It was like winning, but better.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “Let’s choose something to eat.”

Inside, Cotton cooked, while she cleaned, step by step, behind him. It was amazing what he could put together using the contents of her refrigerator and pantry. He hadn’t smuggled in any contraband ingredients, but his brown rice with vegetables mixed in, topped with something cool yet spicy that he called “volcanic fruit salad,” all tasted better than anything her parents ever made. Maybe she could learn to cook. He hadn’t followed a recipe, so there wasn’t a worry of muddling the instructions.

“I’m not the reason Esther will find her way home.”

She set her fork down.

He pushed his plate away, even though there was still a pile of rice on it. “I’m considering going to college next year. I’ve arranged to take a