AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m moving back.Lo siento.I know you need a roommate. And you really saved me. I appreciate it. But I need to go home.”
“Why?” As they did when she was confused, Gia’s hands found her head and she searched the dark sand for answers. The salt air was stifling. And it was making her hair sticky.
“Savannah needs me. And I owe her—”
“Rox, you don’t owe heranything!”Gia extracted herself from Roxi’s arm and turned so they were facing. So she could look into the pain causing that tear. “She hit you, and you took it. She let you borrow her bougie truck as some sort of twisted apology. So what? You don’t owe her.”
“It’s not that easy.” Roxi retreated and leaned into the sand, her weight supported by extended arms. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up and tugged on the strings, wisps of dark hair poking out through the gap between cotton and head. She’d worn her hair down and let it fall across her shoulders—a rare non-ponytail day.
“Okay, I’ll ask again. Why?”
“I feel bad, G. She’s not the same since the stroke and doesn’t have anyone to help. She asked me to come back as a favor. She promised no morelocobehavior. We have history. I can’t desert her when she needs me.”
“Wow,” Gia said for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Just as she was getting used to the idea of platonic cohabitation, this. “I don’t get it, but I don’t have to. It’s your life. If this is what you want, do it. But that’s your third strike.”
“Come on,chica.Don’t do that.”
“I’m only kidding! Though, I’ll miss your milk with a side of coffee and the way you eat all my snacks and—”
The last part was too vulnerable, so she stopped herself. But it went like, “—knowing I’m not alone.”
“And?” Roxi asked.
“Oh, nothing. I’ll just miss you. But don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
There’s nothing quite like someone saying they’re “fine” to trigger the reality that they are indeed, notfine. FINE was more like it: Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional.
???
“Gia, you okay?” Coach Courtney stood below, climbing rope taut in her hands and feet spread enough to create a solid foundation out of her petite frame. She’d worn navy Capri tights and a matching tank that read, “Just Climb It.” Her sun kissed hair was tucked into a cap, and she once again looked like she could be on the cover of an outdoor magazine. Gia hadn’t met her husband, the gym’s co-owner yet, but if Courtney and Caleb were any clue, he was a supermodel.
“Hm?”
“You seem a little distracted today. All good?”
They were well into a 1:1 lesson early that morning before the gym opened. Without others milling around, it was cavernous. Sort of a grown-up jungle gym with more difficult obstacles, and the potential to climb any route without waiting.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just tired.” Gia yawned bigger than necessary to prove her point. It was early.
“Wanna come down?” Courtney talked over the pop soundtrack piping through the gym’s sound system. For someone so petite, her voice carried well over the boy band’s peppy lyrics.
“Nah, let me finish this one.” Gia dusted her hands with chalk and grabbed for a large maroon hold. They were practicing awkward grabs, and this one was a few inches beyond a comfortable reach. She breathed in the distinct aroma of plastic and chalk and moved her feet to their next spots, landing on a small yellow hold with scant space for her toe box. The new climbing shoes were already paying dividends.
“That’s it. Now go for the black one to your left. And then the orange above it.” Courtney talked fast and often. “Great, great. I want you to close your eyes for a moment and pretend you have to keep going indefinitely. There’s no top to the mountain. It’s grab, hold, shift, over and over. You have all the strength and power you need to climb all day.”
When Gia closed her eyes, she didn’t see a climbing wall. Or even a mountain. She saw her mother smoking a Pall Mall Ultra Light and sipping whiskey neat in a red Solo cup, eyes hidden by a pair of gas station sunglasses. It made no sense, and yet, it made perfect sense. Courtney was barking orders at her. They were friendly, intended to be helpful. But she’d triggered a sense of being micromanaged by her mother.
“Gia, you need to add the garlicafterthe onions. You’ve ruined the sauce!”
“Gia, go out and clean my car. And don’t forget to empty the ashtray!”
“Gia, you’d be so pretty if you’d only try.”
And on and on.
“Gia?” Courtney asked for the third time with no response. “G—let’s bring you down. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want you getting hurt. Climbing takes 100% focus. Not every day is going to be a good day.”
“Okay,” Gia yelled down. She was three holds from the top. Three moves from completion on the manageable 5.8 route. She should be able to fly over a 5.8. Muscle memory had gotten her there, and it would get her to the top, but if Courtney wanted her to come down, she would. “Coming down!”
