The pounding in her ears was split by a flash of white-hot rage. She lifted herself out of the reach of that terribly personal hand, recalling just in time she was in no position to kick at it too.

Linda suddenly seemed much closer, then her hands closed around Marissa’s wrists. Marissa grunted as she tried to find the energy for another surge up the cliff side but nothing responded. She was going up anyway—Linda’s face was strained and red with the effort.

More hands reached down from the edge, grabbing her sleeves. With a feeble kick, she got one foot over the lip, then let herself be unceremoniously hauled away from the edge to safety.

Through a haze of red she watched Linda collapse onto her side, panting for breath. The remaining climbers appeared in short order at the spot they had just vacated.

“I’m sorry,” Marissa finally managed to gasp. “Sorry for every brownie I ate during all-nighters.”

Linda spluttered with laughter. “That wasn’t the most picture-perfect climbing demonstration I’ve ever seen but you’re here.”

“There goes the boat,” someone said, but Marissa didn’t have the strength to watch.

Dear Ms. Edwards:

It was not a great surprise to run across your name on a list of famous lesbian entrepreneurs. My business partner, Octavia, still doesn’t believe you were my gym teacher. But I’m actually writing to tell you that you were right about chin-ups. I apologize for not listening to your excellent advice.

Sincerely,

Marissa Chabot, Jonas Salk Middle School

Her backpack appeared out of nowhere. “Thank you,” she whispered to her unseen benefactor. She wondered which of the Muscle Guys had helped push her up the cliff at the very last and decided against asking. When she had her breath back, she found a discreet screen of tall ferns and took care of her bladder. She was profoundly grateful she had kept control of it during the climb.

Feeling much better, she whispered aloud, “You’re going to live,” and for once that didn’t seem like reassuring hyperbole.

Emerging from behind her ferns, she realized everyone was getting to their feet. With a distinct wobble, she picked up her belongings and looked for Linda. Spotting her with the Muscle Guys, she waited to catch her attention before asking, “What gives?”

“We’re going to hike around to the big beach—someone thinks they saw people in the trees. If not, we’ll get a signal fire going. Cell phones are still not getting feeds. It’s a good plan.” Linda slung a trim pack over one shoulder, looking as if she could run a marathon.

Hiking, okay. Marissa nodded and they set out. Watching Linda stride along in front of her wasn’t painful. She thought longingly of the M&M’s in the depths of her pack. They could still be edible.

Prepared to slog in misery for hours, Marissa was surprised when one of the men gave a hopeful shout only a few minutes later. There was excited babble, then Linda glanced over her shoulder.