I’m not sure what he sees first as I sit up—my puffy eyes ormy bloody, gravel-filled knee—but whatever it is is enough to set off his alarm bells.
“What the hell happened?”
“Oh, you know, just my life falling apart.” I try to wipe my eyes. “Standard Tuesday.”
Caleb looks me up and down, probably deciding whether to help me up or finish the job I’ve already started.
“C’mon, Free Solo,” he says, offering his hand. “Let’s get you back up.”
“I don’t need your help,” I protest, scrambling up and slapping myself to the cliffside like a starfish. My breathing intensifies as I mutter into the slippery rockface, “I can do it myself.”
I expect him to laugh at me, but when Caleb’s stormy eyes meet mine, they don’t betray even a hint of doubt.
“I know you can,” he says, hand still extended. “But you don’thaveto.”
I can feel my lip starting to tremble, but I quickly shut it down. I’ve been on this trip for a week, and how many times has Caleb had to save my ass? Whatever the number is, it’s one too many. Especially after I shut him down last night like the heartless cow I am.
But he doesn’t move his hand.
“You’re going to have to climb up on my shoulders,” he tells me.
I look down at the very steep drop beside his foot.
“Are you insane?”
“Stella,” he touches my shoulder and I turn back to him, letting the rain splash against my eyelashes. “As cavalier as you seem to think I am about my job, I am absolutelynotgoing to let you die on a Fijian cliff. You’ve got this.”
Caleb cups his hands in front of him, creating a stirrup for me to step into.
I take in a deep breath and step up.
It takes Caleb and I a few minutes to navigate back to thetop, but as soon as I’m over the lip, I throw myself into the dirt the way I imagine Arthur and Patricia like to throw themselves into piles of money on the weekends. When Caleb joins me (looking as effortless as a calendar fireman despite having just taken a size nine foot to the face), he helps me up and leads me to the covered gazebo.
When we reach cover, I plop down on the wooden bench. Caleb sits as far from me as possible on the other side, which leaves a grand total of eight inches between us. He pulls down the hood of his raincoat and shakes out his damp hair.
“You gonna tell me how you ended up down there?” he asks, holding out my destroyed phone. I take it from him and slip it into my pocket before spitting out the words like a couple of moldy blueberries.
“I got a bad email,” I growl. “About work.”
Caleb doesn’t say anything. Ofcoursehe doesn’t say anything. What kind of emotional support can I expect from the man I brutally rejected just yesterday? A man who, I’m reminded every time I look at him, has probably been rejected exactly zero other times in his beautiful life.
“Do you know what it’s like to be around people who wipe their asses with hundred-dollar bills when I’m eighty-thousand dollars in debt from a degree I can’t even finish?” I continue, the failsafe on my blabber faucet malfunctioning completely. “Or when Matthew’s bragging to Steven about which Ferrari model he just totaled when I can barely afford the insurance on my Prius? And don’t eventhinkabout suggesting I borrow money from the Warrens, because let me tell you, I would sooner throw myself off this cliff and into the mouth of that freaking tiger shark than be indebted to them for anything.”
More silence. He’s infuriatingly good at that.
“The worst part is, I didn’t even get suspended for something interesting,” I choke out. “I wasn’t sleeping with a professor—not anymore, anyway, and I didn’t plagiarizeanyone’s research. I justsucked. And apparently, so does my dissertation.”
Caleb doesn’t say anything, just sits there and stares into the deluge. If he wasn’t regretting coming to find me five minutes ago, I’m sure he is now.
He waits in silence for what seems like three hours before he asks, “Do you want my opinion?”
I nod. Because, I realize with a jolt of surprise, I actuallydo.
“I think it’s a good thing you lost your fellowship.”
I whip towards him so fast that little water beads fly towards him from my sopping hair.
“Excuse me?”
