He falls silent, and something heavy forms in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t mean that mine are worse than yours. I know they’re not—”
“Brooke. It’s okay.” He doesn’t reach out for me again, but his words are so gentle that I feel comforted all the same. “Friends, huh?”
“I mean, I know we can’t exactly tell anyone, but...” I lift one shoulder, feeling suddenly and unaccountably shy.
He shakes his head and steps into me, causing my breath to catch when his hands mold around my hips. “Just try to be the kind of friend who doesn’t break my nose this time, okay?”
When he flexes his knees preparing to lift me, a smile blooms on my face and I swear he draws in a breath seeing it.
CHAPTER 27
It’s Friday night and I’m staring up at the tree alone and worrying my bottom lip between my teeth while trying to convince myself that the full moon overhead is a good thing. Being able to more clearly see each branch I grab or step on is a plus, but that also means I’ll have a moonlit visual of those same branches if I fall past them on my way back down. I’ve actually been getting dizzy a lot less lately, both when Heath lifts me and when I’m climbing on my own. The former is because he talks to me constantly when I’m in the air, keeping me tethered to the ground by his voice even when I feel miles from it.
I glance up at the straight line carved on the trunk for the ten-foot mark—and I imagine I hear Heath urging me on as I suck in a breath and reach for the first branch.
There you go, that part’s easy, right?
No. It’s not easy, but I step up anyway.
Don’t look down; you’ve been higher than this before.
My knees wobble a little as I stand on the waist-high branch, keeping my eyes up as if Heath is there talking to me instead of it just being his voice in my head.
See the line? Two more branches and you’re there.
I keep my chin level, but my eyes glance down and it’s like the ground starts to tip sideways.
Come on, Brooke. You’re so close. How bad do you want this?
I press my cheek against the rough bark and force my eyes back up to the goal, to the line that means I’d be higher off the ground than Heath could ever have to lift me.
Hey. You can do this. I know you can.
And suddenly, I know I can too. Not just because Heath’s been telling me for two weeks that I can, but because I know I’m more afraid staying on the ground than I’ll ever be of falling.
I don’t need anyone else’s voice to grab the branch above me or pull myself another couple feet. I don’t make it all the way to the line, but I come closer than I have before and I don’t feel like I’m giving up when I climb back down. I know I’ll reach it, I realize as my foot touches on the ground, just not tonight.
“Look at you not falling.”
My hand flies to my heart. “Oh my goodness you scared me.”
“You didn’t hear me pull up?”
I shake my head, wondering if it’s possible to have a heart attack at seventeen. My heart was already beating wildly from being up so high, and it kicked into hyperdrive when Heath startled me. Still, I can’t help but smile seeing him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”
“I gave away my shift. I had something I needed to do and I thought you might want the extra day to practice.” He says this lightly, but the way he’s looking at everything but me makes me think he’s not being completely honest. My smile dims.
“You gave away your shift?” I know his family relies on his paycheck. If anything, he picks up extra shifts; he doesn’t give away the ones he has. And not for this, for me. I start to ask him another question, but then I notice there’s a sheen to his skin that I don’t think the summer heat alone is responsible for. “Is something wrong?”
He shakes his head but he won’t meet my gaze.
“Heath, you can talk to me...about anything.” He’s still shaking his head a little, and unease is starting to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. “What did you need to do?”
“I just needed to see somebody.”
“Who?” I say, breathing the word. I could swear he almost looks guilty.
His gaze holds me bound when it lifts to mine, all his nervous energy gone in a flash. “Did you have a nightmare last night?”
