Chapter Eighteen
The Shitshow Tramway
Wilder
I hate heights. I really fucking hate heights.
Not the tree-above-the-creek kind of high. But the over-a-canyon-and-death-is-imminent kind of high.
I don’t want to die.
And dying? Not on the bucket list.
“Your hand is sweating profusely,” Ingrid notices as we walk up to the short line.
Surprisingly, there’s a cool afternoon breeze.
Or terror wrapping itself around me.
We should definitely abandon this bucket list item.
What if we die?
I slip my hand out of Ingrid’s and wipe it on my shorts.
When I find her fingers with my slightly less damp ones, she lets out a loud laugh.
“You’ll jump out a tree at the creek, but you can’t handle being safely suspended in a cable car above solid ground?” she challenges.
“I’ve been jumping out of the tree at the creek since I was six,” I tell her. “I know I’m not going to die.”
“So, it’s just new experiences that terrify you then, Wild?” Cash puts his two cents worth in as he leans over the railing.
A cable car slowly approaches.
It’s now or never.
Tell them this is a bad idea and make a run for it.
But Ingrid’s eyes light up as she watches the car come to a halt in front of us.
She’s excited.
I can’t ruin this for her.
I narrow my eyes at Cash.
“Blondie had to prove to you that the tree at the creek was safe before you jumped out of it,” I remind him.
“A fear of water is not the same thing as a fear of heights,” Cash stupidly remarks.
Asshole.
“You guys ready?” Ingrid clasps her hands under her chin.
Guess we’re doing this.
If I die, I die making my girlfriend happy.
Seems like a good way to go out.
Right?
The door opens and we enter one by one.
Ingrid makes a beeline for the front, her smile big and wide.
“We’ll be able to see everything from here,” she tells me as Cash leans an elbow against the glass.
Isn’t he afraid it’ll break and he’ll plummet below?
And die probably.
“Are you alright?” Ingrid asks quietly as she wraps her arms around my waist.
Am I? No.
Will I lie about it?
Also, no.
“I’m feeling queasy and I’m really regretting eating those chili cheese fries with lunch,” I answer honestly.
Cash smirks, but Ingrid cups my cheek in her warm hand.
“I told you not to eat chili before this,” she playfully chastises me.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I say to her as her eyes grow impossibly large.
“We only have two bucket list items left, Wilder.”
“We do,” I say as my stomach churns at the exact moment the cable car lurches forward.
Why did I agree to this again?
“You’re getting pale,” Ingrid warns, low and serious. “Jill always says that when nauseous, it helps to focus on something close by.”
Close by?
Like the ground?
Oh, wait. That’s not even remotely close to us.
So, I turn.
And I stare at the weathered white rocks on the cliffside.
Funny how something so ordinary can become the thing that keeps you from hurling your guts.
“Do you remember that time we did the Ferris wheel?” Cash asks Ingrid.
“One of the only times Wilder wasn’t our third wheel,” she replies and my eye literally twitches.
I’m so sick of Cash turning every mile into a memory I wasn’t a part of.
I’ve had to hear it since Oklahoma.
And I haven’t missed the way he keeps looking at her.
At least when Ingrid and Cash were dating, I kept my distance.
Yeah, I picked fights with her to get her attention, but I never made it uncomfortable.
Well, not this uncomfortable anyway.
“Hey Cash?” I smirk as I turn to face him. “Remember that time we walked in on you jerking off to a video?”
Several heads in the cable car turn our way.
Cash’s face reddens. “Yeah.”
“Or the time we were condom shopping in a gas station, and someone thought we were lovers?”
“You’re talking so loud,” Ingrid whisper-yells.
“Am I?” I ask, my voice cracking at the end. “I thought we were all sharing tales of how much fun we’ve had together over the years.”
“Why do you always have to make everything so ridiculously awkward?” Cash groans.
I run a hand over my face as Ingrid grabs my arm and yanks me to the other side of the cable car.
Which, for the record, is only like three feet away from Cash.
“What is going on?” she asks me.
Cash’s stupid eyes keep glancing over toward us.
“I know that asshole is still in love with you and I’m sick of him making it so damn obvious,” I murmur.
Ingrid’s eyes flick to the floor of the cable car. Not a good sign.
“So, what if he is?”
My heart sinks.
He’s still in love with her.
And she knows.
I think I’m going to be sick. No, really.
“Are you still in love with him?” I ask her, point blank.
She shakes her head and lifts her eyes to meet mine. “No. I’m in love with you.”
“Are you sure?” I press.
Ingrid inhales sharply. “Yes.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“I don’t get it,” she snaps. “I tell you the truth and you still question me. It’s annoying.”
Then, she crosses her arms over her chest.
Great. War it is.
“I can hear you, you know?” Cash quips from three feet away.
I hold up a hand. “Don’t care right now.”
“Don’t be rude to him,” Ingrid warns. “He’s your best friend.”
There’s a brief moment where I almost blow it and tell her that she knows the real truth. Cash might be my oldest friend, but she’s the only person I want to be around. The only one I want to know everything going on in my life. The reason I’m on this shitshow tramway.
“I trust you,” I say, trying to salvage the conversation. “I do.”
“But you’re insecure,” Ingrid rebukes.
Cash lets out a strangled laugh.
I ignore him.
“You have a history with him,” I remind her.
“That you were there for,” she groans dramatically. “And the fact that you can’t see how wrong we were for each other blows my mind.”
“You guys are seriously missing the view,” someone says behind me.
“No one asked you,” Ingrid snaps.
“Sorry,” the person apologizes.
I’m not insecure. I just know how Cash is. There’s never been anything he’s wanted that he hasn’t gotten.
And the fact that she knows he’s still in love with her makes me nervous.
He must have told her.
I never should have gone to bed without her last night.
“Talk to me, Ingrid, please,” I beg.
But what I mean is uglier than that.
Don’t shut me out the way my dad has all these years.
Suddenly, my phone rings.
At the worst time possible.
I fumble in my jeans pocket, trying to fish it out. When I finally do, my heart drops. Elowyn’s name pops up.
She’s not texting. She’s calling.
That can’t be good.
“Are you going to answer that?” Cash asks me.
I swallow hard and hit the end button.
As soon as the phone is back in my pocket, it rings again. But I manage to shut it off quickly.
“I don’t understand why this is a big deal now,” Ingrid finally says as she huffs. Loudly.
There are a million reasons. The NYU acceptance letter. Margot having cancer. My long, non-existent relationship with my father. Wanting Ingrid so much it hurts.
I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. I can’t lose her, too.
“Because I’m worried that one day you’ll figure out I’m not right for you either,” I admit. A little too honestly.
Her face falls.
“I’ll never feel that way,” she says, like I’ve scratched at something raw inside of her. “Why would you think that?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
But I do know. If Cash Allred couldn’t keep her, how the hell am I supposed to?
“I’ve never felt more like myself than when I’m with you,” she tells me. There’s a pause before she adds, “Do you remember when we skinny dipped at the lake?”
The entire cable car groans, Cash included.
I guess a group of strangers is getting a crash course on our lore.
“I remember.”
Ingrid gives me a small smile as she reaches for my hand and lays it on her chest, right over her heart.
“I am my own, Wilder Cox,” she says, laying my hand over her heart. “But you got in here. You made the ugly parts feel less impossible.”
I know what she’s saying. Cash—and even her family—don’t always let her feel seen or heard.
But I do.
I always will.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cash ruins the moment.
“You wouldn’t get it,” I say without looking at him.
“But you do?” Ingrid asks quietly.
“I do,” I tell her. “I’m staying. As long as you let me.”
“You guys are so lame,” Cash grumbles.
“Good,” Ingrid says as my phone starts ringing in my pocket again.
“Who keeps calling you?” Ingrid asks.
I clear my throat, trying to stall.
“The view is… to die for,” I try distracting her.
But Cash clocks it.
“Yeah, Wild, who keeps calling you?” he says, voice cocky and high-pitched.
I might be hiding a few things, but if he tells Ingrid, she’ll find out he’s been hiding those things from her, too. And I know her well enough to know that she’s going to blame both of us—not just me.
“Wilder,” Ingrid says, her eyebrows knitting together. “Who keeps calling you?”
There’s a loud voice inside my head screaming at me to tell her. I just know that if I do, she’s not going to let it go.
If Isla or Jason or Jill had cancer, she’d be on the first flight home.
I’m not her. As twisted as her family is, they still show up for each other when it counts.
I don’t have that.
The ringing stops.
I briefly close my eyes, but then I hear another phone.
Cash and I stare at each other as he holds up his screen.
“Why is your sister calling Cash?” Ingrid asks.
I have a full out-of-body experience. Everything is jumbled. My vision blurs. Ears feel like I’m slipping under water.
Cash has outed me.
Or he’s about to.
“Because Margot has cancer,” he tells her as if the news is his to share.
Ingrid’s eyes fill with tears as she looks at me. “Is that true?”
My line of sight lands on Cash. He doesn’t look sorry.
“Elowyn told Cash that Margot has cancer,” I admit quietly.
Ingrid glances between us. “You knew this whole time, too?” She directs the question at Cash.
He nods. “I did, but only because Wild—”
“I should have told you,” I interrupt, pulling her attention back to me.
A tear slips down her cheek, and I instinctively reach to wipe it away.
“It’s complicated,” I try explaining.
Ingrid shakes her head. “That’s not a good enough answer.”
“I haven’t talked to Elowyn.”
“She’s your sister,” Ingrid says, no accusation in her voice. “You should be there for her.”
Ingrid means well. I know she does. She has a sister who drives her absolutely insane. But if Isla were dying—even if Grandpa Harvey was dying—she’d drop everything to be there for her.
“I didn’t grow up with a sister like you did,” I say, my voice catching. “I have a sister by blood, but that’s it.”
Ingrid closes her eyes and reaches out a hand to steady herself.
“I’m not great at this whole sibling thing,” I continue. “I… it’s so hard to explain to you because you have a different experience.”
“I’m not upset that you don’t have a great relationship with your sister,” Ingrid begins. “Or that you’re not answering your phone calls from her. I’m angry that you didn’t trust me with this. But you trusted Cash.”
And that’s when it hits me.
She didn’t need me to fix it.
She just needed me to trust her with it.
Instead of telling her, Cash knew the secret.
The same way he knows about NYU.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “He only knows because Elowyn reached out to him. I never would have told him if she hadn’t.”
“Would you have told me eventually?” she asks.
I nod and swallow hard. “I was going to tell you in California.”
Her breaths are quick and hard. “No more secrets, Wilder. I mean it. If you want this relationship to last, you have to be completely honest with me moving forward.”
For a split second, my eyes slide to Cash.
Just long enough for her to know.
Margot wasn’t the only secret.