“Oh, fuck off, Rezzie. You can’t say shit when your junk looks like that.”
I shoved him over and my eyes caught on the redhead across the room. My heart skipped a beat, and another, but I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. When I opened them, she was no longer in sight.
“Here you go. Let’s try this one,” Brett said to Ford. “And then I’ll check everyone’s harness before we start the belay instructions.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to take your lunch and I can cover for you, Brett.”
That voice.
“Thanks, Emory. I’ll just finish the guys up with the belay basics and then I’ll take my break.”
Emory.I sighed, scolding myself for being so dramatic.She’s dead, Nox. Stop looking for her every time you see a redhead.
Brett had finished with Ford’s harness, and tugged on mine, tightening some of my straps slightly. I resisted the urge to turn around and get a better look at Emory.
“Everything feel comfortable?” He asked.
“Uh, yeah. Everything’s good.”
“Alright.”
We finished the instructions with Brett, learning about how to clip ourselves into the auto-belay on the wall. I guess it wasn’t uncommon for people to forget to clip it back to the wall because there was a bright lettered sign right next to it with a reminder to‘CLIP IN!’.
We practiced clipping in, checking the double locks on the carabiner, and then unclipping. It was a slow fifteen minutes as I was struggling to keep my thoughts straight. It didn’t always shake me up whenever I saw someone that looked like her. But the voice too, fuck. I was stupid for letting it bother me and drag up memories.
I didn’t think I’d ever really move on from Shiloh. She was etched into my skin. I didn’t want to forget her. But four and half years later I still found myself wondering what it would have been like if she’d not taken her own life. Wondering if we would have stayed together when I left for the military. Wondering if she would have gone to college somewhere or maybe moved in with Sebastian and Eden and worked until she figured out what career she wanted to pursue.
The possibilities were endless and finite at the same time. That’s what happened when you committed suicide. There were no more ifs. Just could-have-beens that would never become reality for the person you wished had stayed to live them out.
A loud smack had us all shooting our gaze to the wall.
“You okay?” Brett shouted.
“Yeah,” Brewer called out. “Just slipped.”
Brett watched on for a moment longer and then nodded to himself.
“Okay. So, do you guys feel confident in using the belay? Any questions?”
I glanced between the guys.
“No questions here,” I said.
“Great. Well, if anything comes up, Emory will be right over there,” he pointed in the direction of the front desk behind us. “Remember, clip in, check and check again, and you’ll be fine.”
We nodded and Brett walked away.
“Well,” Ford muttered, glancing around the wall. “It looks like we’ll have to take turns, all the other automatic belays are taken. So, who’s first?”
“Yeah, I’ll go,” Hanson said with chin nod.
I stepped out of the way, watching him get his harness clipped. I tuned out the chatter amongst the other guys and nodded my head along to the music absentmindedly.
“Um, guys, what do I do again when I’m ready to get down?” Hanson called out.
“Just let go and brace yourself with your feet,” Emory shouted. “The rope will slow you down, so you won’t fall fast. There’s lots of resistance on the rope.”
“Yeah, Hanson. Watch,” Brewer called from further to the right. He let his hands fall to his sides and gently kicked off from the wall. He stopped himself a few feet down by bracing his feet.
