I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Whatever this girl is, she’s the furthest thing from an idiot. “How do you feel about jumping off cliffs?”

7

Meg

I’m about to jump off a twenty-foot cliff, and that’s not even the scariest thing I have planned for today.

I’m meeting James tonight. My uncle. My dad’s brother.

Gah.

But for now, the cliff. Micah stands next to me, the wind tugging at his dark hair. He’s bare-chested, and I’m distracted. He removed his shirt at the bottom of the cliff, leaving it in a pile with the rest of our belongings since the easiest way down is off the edge and you don’t want everything to get wet.

A very pragmatic choice, is what I’m saying.

And, like, I’ve for sure seen guys without their shirts on before. My dad, for one. And, you know, guys on TV. But never like this. Never up close. All the way to the top of Black Rocks, I followed Micah’s footsteps up the worn path, and I couldn’t help tracing the ridges of his shoulder muscles with my eyes as they moved under his tanned skin. Honestly, I didn’t know muscles grew like that. I am so very tempted to touch them, to see if they’re as hard as they look, but that’s probably one of those things that friends aren’t supposed to do. And I don’t want to mess up my new friendship.

I’m wondering, though, as goose bumps ripple across his pectoral muscles, if perhaps I made a mistake in choosing Micah as my Sherpa into adult friendship. I probably ought to have looked into things like “toned stomach” and “holy Jesus, are calf muscles supposed to make shapes?” prior to accepting his ice cream invite.

Too late now.

A couple of college girls stand in front of us, giggling and shrieking as they get closer to the edge. Someone in a sorority sweatshirt is recording them on her iPhone, so I’m guessing it must be some kind of pledge thing.

And here I am doing this for fun?

I shiver and Micah frowns at me. “Too cold?”

“A little. Mostly, I want to puke.”

“You can swim, right?”

“You’re asking me that now?” I choke out. To his credit, he looks sheepish at his oversight. Turns out, grumpy eyebrows spliced with ruddy cheeks is a combo I really, really like.

Look at all the things I’m learning about myself already.

I shake out my hands as the girls jump over the edge, their screams swallowed in the wind.

Oh no.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I say, glancing back at the path and all the people lined up behind me.

“It’s a rite of passage, Meg.”

“Right.”

“And you’re on a gap year.”