Tiff:@Olivia why does she think she's going on a walking tour? I thought you said it was the highest and longest zip line in the Bahamas?
Olivia:Oh, it is. You actually get to the walking tour part via a zip line. I left that part out. Didn't think she'd go if I did. I'm pretty sure Honey has a fear of falling. I've never seen her jump from any height, let alone from 110 feet.
Mike:Literally and figuratively, apparently.
Madison:That's why we're here. To push her in the right direction.
Olivia:Push being the operative word.
Mike:Please don't tell me you mean that literally, Liv. Zach will kill me.
Olivia:She's my best friend.
Jamie:That's exactly why he's asking.
Olivia:It's all good. Jonny won't push her if she stalls. He'll just give her a little nudge.
Mike:Who the hell is Jonny?!
Olivia:The guide. He called to confirm details with me last night. I said I'd tip him extra if he got her to go down.
Madison:Wow. Here I was thinking I was the only one this committed. Olivia, color me impressed.
Olivia:Let's wait until I hear back from her before we congratulate me.
“I’m going to kill her,” I mutter, taking another tentative step up the treetop tower somewhere in Grand Bahama.
This isnotthe treetop canopy tour I was expecting when Olivia suggested I still come to this since she'd already paid for it. I thought it would be gentle bridge walks with a tour guide quietly telling me about the beauty of the landscape.
In no way did I expect it to start with a zip line through the trees.
My clip clinks against the structure, my knees knock, and the only reason I'm still making my way to the top is because I don't want to disappoint my bus buddy, Gabe, again.
The guy hogged all the under-seat storage and grumbled under his breath every time I so much as moved. He’s now right behind me, muttering under his breath about how long I'm taking.
Right, because I’m clearly the problem—not the man who willingly reads books about the evolution of coffee filters for fun.
When I tried to ask him about it, I earned myself another eye roll, so I stopped trying.
Who am I to try to understand his taste in reading when all I've been doing the last six days is stare at a blank page.
That's right. Six days of massages, sunbathing, swimming and having someone cook for me has done absolutely nothing for my writer's block.
Can I call it writer's block when I haven't written a word?
“The line's moving,” Gabe chirps up behind me.
If only we weren't all attached to the same wire, they'd be able to pass me, and I'd be able to head back to the bus and cower in silence.
“I know,” I say, forcing myself up another five steps of the grated stairs. Did I forget to mention I can pretty much see the ground? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm at least 100 feet above ground now.
The people in front of me take another few steps.
Come on, Honey. You can do this.
One step.
Two steps.
