My mouth slowly hangs. “Wha… that means… if you… no.” I shake my head at the image of Ryke losing his grip and splatting on the hard ground. “Why would you want to do that?” I pause in thought. “Is it the adrenaline rush?”
He shakes his head. “No, everyone asks me that, but I don’t get that feeling like I do when I run. If you have an adrenaline rush when you’re climbing, it probably means you’re falling off the mountain. When you feel fear, your chest constricts, and you’ll probably slip and die.”
I gape. “Are you serious? You don’t get scared? Not even a little bit?” How is that possible?
“Nope,” he tells me. “You have to be calm, and I love raising the stakes and trying to overcome them. Like I said, it’s a challenge.”
I stare at him like he’s an alien species, but I guess plenty of people free-solo climb or maybe not. “Do many people die climbing without ropes?”
“Maybe a little less than half of people who free-solo.” He shrugs again.
“You’re crazy.”
He smiles. “So my mother tells me.”
The pack of girls suddenly filters onto the deck in varying shades and styles of swimsuits. Most are string bikinis, but I seea few cut-out one-pieces that expose hips and lower backs. Half of the girls run to the padded chairs on the sun deck, trying to fight for ones with the best light. A few meander over to our lounge area and plop on seats around Ryke and me.
I’ve met most of the girls before since the majority have grown up with Daisy since preschool, but I can’t recall half their names. The strawberry blonde with fair skin and a light layer of freckles is Daisy’s best friend: Cleo. Then there’s Harper, the Native American girl wearing a black-studded bikini. I can’t place the third girl that sits with us. She’s already so tan that anymore sun may cause her instant skin cancer. She also wears bright pink lip gloss that matches her neon-blue string bikini, ready to be inserted into a Katy Perry video.
Daisy slides closer to me on the couch. I notice that she wears a string bikini with tons of layered straps, the dark green color matching her eyes. “We need to get some snacks. I’m starving.”
At the command, a female server in a white shirt and black pants peels away from the sliding glass door. She hands Daisy a menu with tons of items and a line at the bottom says:if it’s not on the menu, ask us and we may be able to make it.
“I want chocolate,” Cleo says to the server. “How about…chocolate covered strawberries?”
The server nods. “Anything else?”
“I can’t have chocolate…so…” Daisy hums to herself as she slides her finger down the menu. Her features progressively darken, as though frustrated with what she can and cannot eat.
I practically feel Ryke seething beside me. But he needs to shut his trap. She doesn’t want chocolate, and he shouldn’t pressure her to eat it like he did at the Fizzle event.
I do have some sisterly sway, and I know there are some foods that will be good for her to eat. I lean closer and point to a tuna sandwich. “That’s healthy.”
“Mom said no mayo,” she says softly.
“Well, Mom isn’t here.” Jesus, my mother has seriously crossed a line somewhere. It’s Daisy’s birthday. Does she expect her not to eat cake too? That’s sacrilege.
Daisy stares off for a long second, thinking about the consequences of cheating, no doubt. She’s already a size 2 at 5’11’’ which is fucking madness, but until the high fashion industry stops seeking these types of girls, I don’t see my mother changing.
“Get the fucking sandwich,” Ryke tells her. “You’ll burn it off swimming.”
“Don’t do tuna,” Cleo suddenly says. “Your breath will reek.”
“Yeah, I hate the smell,” Harper agrees.
I already want to strangle them.
Daisy tenses at all the voices. She hands the menu back to the server. “I’ll have the tuna, thanks. My friends will have to deal with the smell.” She shoots Cleo a look. “It’s my birthday, after all.”
Cleo shrugs. “Just trying to warn you. What if we meet some hot local boy? You’re going to scare him off with bad breath.” God, they’re already planning on picking up guys. This just turned from slightly fun to terrifying. I hope I’ll be equipped to handle them.Please, let me be equipped.
“Even better,” Daisy says. “The guy will run over to you. See, I did you a favor.”
Cleo purses her lips and then her eyes slowly trail over to me. “So Lily…”
I brace myself.
“…How did you get so skinny? What are you, a size zero?”
