Unscripted - Nicole Kronzer Page 0,38

asked. “You made it halfway. That’s amazing.”

“Amazing if you’re a little girl,” Brandon said, not quietly.

Murph looked at me. His eyes bulged in a Did-he-really-just-say-that? way.

I rolled my eyes.

Murph turned to Brandon. “Did you know that women’s bodies can handle much higher levels of pain than men’s can?”

Brandon didn’t even acknowledge him.

“So,” Murph continued, “when you call someone a girl, it’s quite the compliment.”

I couldn’t look at Brandon to see his reaction. I just smiled to myself.

Then Ricky appeared. “Zelda,” he said.

I turned, expectantly.

“You climb?”

I nodded. He gestured for me to follow him. We padded over wood chips toward the firecracker ladder, a braided rope with ladder rungs fed through its core. I flicked a look over my shoulder to see if Ben noticed where we were going, but he was focused on Jake 1.

Ricky pointed at the landing on top. “Talk him over.”

I hesitated for a second. Did I really want to help Jake? He hadn’t been directly terrible to me, but I certainly wouldn’t have considered him an ally. I peered up at him, blinking at the sprinkles of rain falling on my face. Shaking, Jake lifted a foot halfway up to take another step and the whole bridge pitched to one side. He whimpered as he overcompensated and pitched the other way.

As the guys on my team hooted and laughed in response, anger bubbled in my stomach. I met Ricky’s eyes and nodded. I’d have wanted someone to help if it was me stuck up there, but if I was being perfectly honest, a tiny, selfish part of me also wondered if my rescue mission might gain me some credibility on the team.

Ricky handed me the free end of the rope and I looped it through my harness in a figure-eight knot. Ricky double-checked the security of my knot, and I double-checked his carabiner gate to make sure it was locked.

“On belay?” I asked, reciting the standard climbing safety call-and-response.

“Belay on,” he responded.

“Climbing,” I declared.

“Climb on.”

I grabbed the rope at the center of the firecracker ladder with both hands and heaved my body up until my feet balanced on the first rung. I felt Ricky take the slack out of the rope. I pulled myself to the second rung, then the third. When I reached the fourth, the rain started to patter harder.

“It’s just supposed to rain a little, but if it gets any worse or I see lightning, I’ll call it,” Jesse announced.

My breathing increased as I hauled my feet to the sixth rung. That’s also when Xander noticed me.

“Kitty can climb!” he shouted.

The rest of the guys catcalled. My arms started to shake.

“Hey! What is she doing up there?” Ben demanded.

What was I doing? I watched the raindrops pit pat onto my hands and roll down my arms. I willed them to stop shaking.

“Get down, Ellie!” Ben called. “We don’t need you up there!”

I took a deep, steadying breath. “Just gimme a minute,” I called back.

“Ellie,” Ben warned.

“I’m going to talk him over,” I called. “Trust me.”

“Yeah, if anyone can get Jakey down, it’s Ellie,” Xander said. Then he and Brandon started grunting again.

Ben pretended to chuckle, and he folded his arms across his chest. I took his silence for permission.

My arms continued to shake. Come on, come on, I berated myself. What’s it going to look like if you can’t get up there? It’ll just be another thing girls can’t do.

“Zelda.” Ricky’s voice was calm. “You can do this.”

I looked down at him. In improv, one of our mantras is “get out of your head.” You’re just supposed to trust your body, your instincts, and your partner. The same was true in climbing, so I set my jaw, emptied my mind, and pulled.

Soon, I lost track of how many rungs I’d tackled. Now there were just three left.

“Ellie’s coming to save you, Jakey-poo!” Brandon called.

“Way to go, Zelda!” Murph hollered, his voice cracking a little with the effort.

Two left.

“You’ve got this, Zelda.” Jesse’s voice joined Murph’s.

My heart thudded in my chest. I ignored my vibrating arms and legs and pulled myself onto the platform, my feet still on the final rung. Then, not too elegantly, I clambered to standing.

“Yeah!” Jesse called.

I looked down the thirty feet below to Ricky on the ground and met his eyes through his rain-spattered glasses. He nodded.

The rain picked up.

“Okay, Jake,” I said, turning my attention to him. “You can do this.”

Poor guy. He was really trembling now. The rain was spitting in his eyes and he was blinking