Chapter 23 #2
We both glance in unison toward the training area in time to see two kids somehow crash into each other on the zipline, the instructor wearing a resigned expression as he starts untangling their coiled lines.
Percy swallows, facing the ladder with newfound determination. “I’m coming.”
True to his word, he clips onto the safety line and carefully traces my steps. I slow my pace, making sure I never get more than a few rungs ahead. From the grateful looks he gives me, I’m pretty sure he appreciates the gesture.
We reach the top platform without incident, guiding our carabiners through an intersection so they switch to a horizontal line cutting across a wooden bridge to a platform on the other side. I give Percy a grin. “See—not so bad.”
His smile is little more than a grimace. “I suppose. Knowing the line’s there in case I fall helps.” He pauses. “So does having you here.”
Again, that pesky flutter ripples in my chest. Afraid my face might give too much away, I turn toward the bridge. “Ready to tackle the first obstacle?”
“You mean the ladder didn’t count?”
“Fine, second obstacle then.”
He inhales deeply and rolls his shoulders. “Lead the way.”
So, I do.
It takes a while for Percy to loosen up enough to enjoy himself, but I can see it gradually happening.
His smiles grow more genuine, his hesitations and panicked looks less frequent.
He stops staring at the ground below in horror and starts tilting his head back to enjoy the breeze on his face or smiling up at the afternoon sun dappling the brilliant autumn leaves.
Occasionally, we hear the shrieks of kids behind us, but we manage to keep ahead of them and don’t run into anyone else on the course. October is well past prime tourist time, but with the sweat of exertion and the sun’s warmth, the chill air proves surprisingly welcome.
The obstacles start out simple enough—full rope bridges with wide planks that make it easy to keep your balance.
But as the course progresses, the planks become narrower with wider gaps in between.
There are fewer things to hold onto, or other wrinkles like logs that shift precariously beneath your feet or seesaw back and forth.
At one point, I have to coax Percy across a literal tightrope with nothing to help him balance except a pair of wires at shoulder height. That one gave even me pause.
“Beginner course, my ass,” Percy mutters once he finally steps down from the wire, his whole body trembling with adrenaline. “I thought for sure I was going to fall.”
“Even if you had, the safety line would’ve caught you,” I note.
“Yeah, well, in the moment, it doesn’t feel like it.”
He has a point—safety line or not, there’s a primal sort of terror in feeling your feet slip out over open air. “Fair enough.” I elbow him in the side, grinning. “Admit it, though—you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I suppose this course isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done,” he says, his lips twitching.
“Wow,” I say dryly. “Such high praise.”
“Hey, you’re lucky to get even that much! You know I’d rather be holed up in my room with a computer.”
“True. I guess I’ll take whatever I can get.
” The words settle in me like a mantra as I study him, the afternoon sun turning his messy brown hair golden, his bright blue eyes happier than I’ve seen them since our reunion.
For once, he seems to have forgotten about the myriad worries that typically weigh him down.
Gazing out over the forest, he purses his lips thoughtfully. “You know, I bet my dad would enjoy something like this. I should ask him sometime. Mom would’ve too, but…”
He trails off, and just like that, his eyes dim, his burdens crashing back as his shoulders slump. I want to growl or scream or shake him—anything to bring back that flash of fleeting joy I’d glimpsed moments earlier.
But before I can figure out what to say or do, Percy shoves gently past me, swapping positions.
It’s not the first time we’ve accidentally touched on the course—a brush of fingers here, a press of shoulders there.
And like every other time, my skin tingles with the contact, even beneath my fall jacket.
“I’ll take the lead,” he says, moving on to the next obstacle—a set of uneven wooden planks of various sizes ascending toward a higher platform in the distance.
I don’t argue, following him as he throws himself at the planks with fresh ferocity.
As we continue past the next few obstacles, I let my mind drift, considering this weekend getaway in a new light.
Everyone else had come to Mackinac Island to have fun, but Percy’s here to contemplate and work through all he had lost. What must it be like for him to return to a place haunted by so many memories?
I feel an irrational burst of anger at his dad for forcing him to go through this alone.
Not that I’d been much better. Until now, I must’ve only been adding to Percy’s stress.
As usual, I’d made it all about me. But that, at least, is a problem I can fix.
I swear I’ll make it up to you, Percy. Starting with making sure you have the best damn time today.
Soon enough, we reach the last obstacle—a massive zipline extending over the tops of trees in a valley below to meet up with another platform barely visible in the distance. Wood creaks beneath our feet, the entire structure swaying slightly as a fierce wind buffets us.
Percy sucks in a breath. “That’s a lot bigger than the test zipline.”
“Maybe,” I reply. Adrenaline buzzes through me as I eye the gap.
“But it’s the same principle. Shove off from the platform and sit back in your harness with your legs stretched out ahead of you.
Then, when you get close, cup your hands around the wire and use your gloves to slow yourself. And if you stop too soon—”
“Spin around and pull myself the rest of the way,” Percy says faintly. He squares his shoulders. “Right. I’ve got this.”
Despite his words, he doesn’t move from his spot near the edge of the platform. His wide eyes stare out across the drop-off at the trees below as if they’re spikes waiting to impale him.
He most assuredly does not look like he’s got this.
I briefly war with myself before stepping forward. Resting a comforting hand against his lower back, I lean in to speak softly into his ear. “Hey, listen to me. Nothing bad is going to happen. You know what to do, and plenty of other people have used this zipline before.”
And even if something goes wrong, the day’s probably going to reset anyway, I think but don’t say. Somehow, I doubt that’ll offer much reassurance.
Instead, I add, “And I’ll be right behind you.” My voice grows taunting. “Unless you want me to take the lead again. I’ll happily show you how it’s done if you’re too chicken to go first.”
Percy’s back vibrates against my palm with his quiet chuckle. “For the record, I know exactly what you’re doing.”
My lips quirk. “Oh, yeah? And is it working?”
“Kind of.”
“Good. Then my work here is done.”
Reluctantly, I drop my hand and step back, giving him some space.
I doubt he’d ever forgive me if I accidentally knocked him off the platform.
At first, he remains locked in place. Just when I’m starting to wonder if my pep talk had been enough, he squeezes his eyes shut and practically hurls himself off the platform, clutching the cable connecting him to the zipline for dear life.
I can’t help but grin as he whizzes out into space with a shout.
He keeps his whole body tensed at first, clearly terrified, but around the halfway mark, I catch him tilting his head to the side and gazing out at the view.
Even at a distance, I can see the way his entire body relaxes.
When he nears the end, he expertly slows himself like we’d discussed, pulling himself the last few feet until he’s safely on the platform.
From here, he’s little more than a dark smudge.
All right, my turn. I shove off, relishing the thrill in my gut at the brief sensation of falling—the rush of movement.
Then, I’m out past the tree cover and over the open expanse of the valley.
I suck in a breath. God, it’s beautiful.
The sun hangs brightly in the sky overhead, and the waters of Lake Huron glitter in the distance.
Beyond that rests Mackinac Island, coated in green with the bright white of downtown highlighted on the near coast.
The view alone makes this entire excursion worth it.
My blood is pumping with the raw joy of being alive when I reach the platform at the end, and I barely manage to slow myself enough to avoid crashing into it.
I stumble once I regain my feet. Percy is right there, helping to hold me up, and suddenly, none of our sordid history seems to matter quite so much.
Ignoring all the reasons this is a terrible idea, I wrap my arms around him and tug him close. I expect him to recoil, but to my surprise, he leans into the embrace. Our harnesses jingle as they rub together, and I suck in a breath when he lightly nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck.
Then, the fragile moment shatters. I’m not sure which of us pulls away first, but all at once, we’re standing on opposite ends of the platform with as much distance between us as we can manage without leaping off into the open air.
“I think that’s our exit,” I say, nodding toward the ladder down as I try to ignore the persistent buzzing underneath my skin.
Percy runs a hand through his tousled hair and manages a wry grin. “I gotta admit, this was a good choice. I had fun…once I got past the crippling fear of death.”
Remembering the feel of him pressed against me, I swallow. “So did I.”
Too much fun, really. Without Quinn or our previous animosity to serve as a buffer, it’s far too easy to fall back into old habits. God, and we’re supposed to stay out here tonight, which means renting a hotel room. If that’s not tempting fate, I’m not sure what is.