Chapter 23 Three Years Before
3 years before Penny
Everyone’s still riding the high from the relay when the cheerleaders finally blow the whistle again. We’re all sweaty, grass-stained, and grinning, sprawled across the sand catching our breath. Someone’s blasting music from a speaker; Caleb’s trying to convince the Red team that broken eggs don’t count if they’re “technically still in the shell.”
After ten minutes of recovery and a few gulps of warm water, we hear the call: “All right, teams! Let’s move to the forest!”
Groans roll through the crowd, but everyone gets up anyway, brushing sand off their legs, adjusting shoes, retying bandanas. The trees beyond the lake look dense and shady, a welcome break from the heat.
We follow the cheerleaders up the trail until it opens into a clearing marked by rope, makeshift wooden beams, and a whole lot of things that look questionably safe.
“Welcome,” one of the girls announces dramatically, “to the obstacle course!”
A chorus of cheers and laughs erupts.
“Now,” she continues, “before you all die trying to impress each other, a few notes. We made do with what we had — logs, planks, rope, trees — so some of this might be… wobbly.”
Ryan mutters, “Comforting.”
Nate elbows him. “You’re a future doctor, right? You can patch us up.”
“Don’t even start,” Ryan groans.
The cheerleader goes on. “The course is long, so take your time. Don’t rush — we’ll have lunch after this one. There are tunnels, balance beams, and one rope climb. The first team to make it to the other side of the forest wins, but—” she raises a finger, “—your entire team has to finish together. No one left behind. No one gets counted until your full team’s across.”
Caleb nods seriously. “Unity. Got it.”
The cheerleader adds, “We’ll be taking our car around to meet you at the finish line. A few of us will be stationed along the route to make sure no one cheats by skipping an obstacle.”
Ryan raises his hand. “Quick question—what if I’m the one who gets injured?”
She sighs. “Then your team’s disqualified.”
He blinks. “No sympathy points?”
“Nope.”
Nate grins. “I’ll call you Doctor Ryan if it helps.”
“Why am I the class punching bag today?” Ryan complains, to everyone’s laughter.
The cheerleader claps her hands, done with the banter. “Okay! Positions! Remember — team effort, slow and steady. We do not want to explain to your parents why you broke something two days before graduation!”
“Or ever,” Jemma says under her breath beside me.
We all take our places at the start of the trail. The forest looms ahead — the path marked with colored flags and makeshift barriers, the kind that promises chaos and splinters.
Caleb rolls his shoulders, glancing back at us. “All right, team green,” he says. “Stay together, yeah? We do this smart.”
I nod, pulling my bandana tighter around my wrist. “Smart and unbroken.”
Jemma grins. “Like our eggs.”
“Exactly,” I say, smirking.
The cheerleader raises her whistle again, the sound echoing off the trees.
“Ready…”
Everyone leans forward, hearts thumping, eyes on the path ahead.
“…Go!”
The forest trail narrows the deeper we go, sunlight splintering through the canopy in thin gold shards. The first few obstacles are more fun than challenging — crawling under low logs that snag our shirts, hopping between slick stumps over a muddy patch that smells faintly of swamp. Every time someone almost slips, the rest of us cheer like it’s the Olympics.
Ryan’s yelling, “This is easy!” right before he nearly faceplants in the mud, and the entire group dissolves into laughter.
We make it another few hundred meters before the path curves uphill, where a small rock wall waits — taller than any of us expected, jagged and uneven, but climbable if you’re brave enough.
Caleb cracks his knuckles. “All right, easy stuff first.” He scales the thing like he was born for it, boots finding every notch, muscles moving with steady confidence. Ryan follows, grunting a bit more but still making it up with a cocky grin.
“Piece of cake!” he shouts from the top.
“Show-off,” Margo mutters, brushing hair from her face before starting her ascent. Her long legs make it look effortless — she’s up in seconds, swinging herself over the top beside them.
Then there’s Jemma and Stacy. Both standing at the base, glancing up at the height like it personally offended them.
“Yeah, nope,” Stacy says flatly.
Jemma bites her lip. “There’s no way I’m making that.”
I glance at Nate. “We’re helping them.”
He nods instantly, already tugging off his hoodie. “Caleb!” he calls, tossing it upward.
Caleb catches it with one hand, looping the sleeves together. “Got it!”
“All right,” I say, stepping closer to Jemma. “We’ll boost you up. When you’re high enough, grab the hoodie sleeve and they’ll pull you the rest of the way. Easy.”
“Easy for you,” she mutters, but her eyes soften when she looks at me.
I crouch a bit, clasping my hands together to give her a step. “Come on. Trust me.”
She exhales, then nods. Her sneakers press into my palms, and I rise slowly, steadying her by the ankle. When she needs a bit more height, I shift, letting her plant a foot on my shoulder.
“Almost there,” I say, voice low. “Reach for it.”
She stretches up, fingers brushing the rock, then the sleeve. Caleb braces his stance above and pulls as she climbs, boots scraping stone until she finally swings her leg over the edge.
“Got her!” Caleb shouts.
Cheers ripple from above and below.
“All right, my turn,” Stacy says, squaring her shoulders like she’s preparing for battle.
She copies Jemma’s path — foot in my hands, then my shoulder — and Nate braces her waist as she grabs the hoodie sleeve. Caleb and Ryan haul her the rest of the way up.
Both girls cheer when they’re safe at the top, breathless but smiling wide.
Nate looks at me, sweat dripping down his jaw. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
We grip the rock and start climbing. No hesitation, no second thoughts. The stone bites into our palms, but our movements are practiced, clean. We haul ourselves up in seconds, side by side, and by the time we reach the top, the rest of the team’s already waiting — grinning, out of breath, and louder than ever.