The Easy Part of Impossible Read online

  Dedication

  For HannaH

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Sarah Tomp

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  SOUTHWEST DAILY TIMES

  JULY 1

  Local Girl Diving into National Competition

  Pierre, VA—Victoria “Ria” Williams will be traveling Tuesday with coach Benjamin Hawkins to Los Angeles, California, to compete in the USA Diving National Championships.

  “Ria is easily the best diver on the East Coast,” said Hawkins. “Now she will have a chance to prove she’s the best in the country.”

  Williams started diving at age six with the Pierre Community Center recreational team. After making rapid progress, she began a more rigorous training schedule with Hawkins, a former NCAA diver for the University of Virginia. “The first time I saw Ria dive, I knew she was champion material,” said Hawkins.

  The Rock Dive Team practices at Memorial Pool and in Hawkins’s personal gym on Bell Avenue. The private club team competes year-round. Tryouts require a private invitation.

  If Williams places in the top three of this competition, her future will require even more time in the water. She will have the chance to travel throughout the world representing the United States while training for the next Olympic team trials.

  SOUTHWEST DAILY TIMES

  JULY 14

  Scratch That

  Pierre, VA—Local diver Victoria Williams reportedly scratched all events and did not compete at the USA Diving National Championships in Los Angeles, California, last week. A reason was not cited.

  The Williams family and coach Benjamin Hawkins all declined to comment.

  One

  One slip and it was over.

  Everything Ria had worked for, dreamed of, spent every single second of her life dedicated to, was finished. No more demanding schedule, no dictated life. She could eat whatever she wanted. Do what she wanted, when she wanted.

  If only someone could tell her what that was.

  “Come on, Ria,” said Sean. “Hurry up and pick something. We need to get to the quarry before dark.”

  “You said we should bring snacks.” She’d liked the idea of picking something delicious and junky, but she hadn’t expected three aisles of choices in the mini-mart. “What’s best? Should we go for frosted sweets? Chocolate or fruity? Or are chips better? Look at the entire line of ‘-ito’ choices! What’s the junkiest? Doritos? Cheetos? Fritos?”

  “It’s not a picky crowd.”

  She turned and faced him. “Or, maybe Funyuns are a better time since ‘fun’ is right there in their name. Maybe they’re the life of the party!”

  Sean laughed. “What do you want to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry.” She shrugged. “You pick.”

  He eyed her but didn’t argue as he grabbed a boring bag of ordinary potato chips.

  Ever since she’d quit diving, after backing out of her biggest meet ever—the one that mattered more than all the others combined—one impossibly long month ago, Sean had stepped in, eager to fill her suddenly empty hours, happy to take her away from her parents’ questions and frowns. He was an attentive tour guide to the world of being normal.

  Fact was, she’d never done anything normal. For the last eleven years she’d spent each and every possible second either at the pool or in the dry gym—building strength, increasing flippable flexibility—doing whatever she could to dive better, straighter, more gracefully, and with greater power. She’d missed out on everything else. She was an alien in her own hometown.

  A native alien. Which didn’t make sense, but Ria was used to not making sense.

  The party was at the abandoned quarry, another place she’d heard of but never been. She parked on the road behind the line of cars as Sean directed. “It’s going to be great,” he said. “It’s like a kickoff for our senior year.”

  Ugh. She’d been so busy not diving, she’d forgotten to dread the start of school.

  Sean led her along the sandy roadside, then stopped where the fence was bent. He held it out for her to slip through. Walking along the gravel path, she could hear the party before she could see it. She followed him around a large boulder, stepping into a wide-open space.

  “Whoa,” she said, taking in the view of an enormous gaping hole. The rough rock walls glowed in the late-afternoon sunshine.

  “Right? I told you everyone would be here.”

  Ria turned her attention to the crowd gathered on the patchy grass and sandy field. She didn’t know everyone, not like Sean did. She didn’t know much of anyone beyond her tight circle of teammates. Ex-teammates. She’d only met Sean because he worked as a lifeguard at the Aquaplex, her old home. He was on the high school’s swim team, part of the pack mysteriously willing to splash their way back and forth for miles of straight lines. He’d been one step out of Coach Benny’s circle of forbidden relationships. Teammates were always off-limits for romance.

  She watched Sean and his friends slap, smack, and crash their hellos through high-fives, head whacks, and chest bumps. She’d invited Maggie to come today too, but at the last minute, Benny called a “Board Meeting” at the pool. Code word for an in-team meet. They’d compete against each other, at the mercy of his fickle scoring, with rewards and punishments doled out on the deck. He’d probably heard about the party, and wanted to keep his team close and out of trouble. Ria, on the other hand, was now free to get in as much trouble as she wanted.

  “Let’s go find the keg,” said Sean.

  There wasn’t any order to the party. This was nothing like the picture of a party she’d had in her head. Instead of beautiful people dressed in fabulous clothes having a wildly hilarious time, it was a bunch of kids standing in the dirt sipping from red plastic cups. Of course no one had set up a table for gourmet hors d’oeuvres, or even pointless potato chips. They were simply something to lug around. “Where should I put the chips?”

  Sean took them from her and shoved the bag into Charlie’s hand. “You look hungry.”

  Tony turned to her. “How did Sean finally convince you to come to a party?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie chimed in. “Aren’t you supposed to be off at the Olympics?”

  “Shut up. Go be stupid somewhere else.” Sean shoved him in the chest.

  “What did I do?”

  “Nothing,” said Ria, hating that Sean felt the need to protect her, and hating more that she needed him to. “Go get a drink,” sh
e said to Sean. “I’m going to go look at the hole.”

  As she turned and walked away she heard Tony say, “But the a-hole is right here.”

  “Shut up,” protested Charlie. “I am not.”

  “You’re not here? Am I hallucinating?”

  Their voices faded as Ria walked away from the noise and jumble of the crowd. She stood at the edge and looked down, past the sheer face of brown-and-red-streaked rocks, down to the jagged shelves of cut cliffs, and into the water. It looked deep, dark, and blue. Still. Not a ripple or wrinkle anywhere.

  Behind her, bass beats played through speakers, while the melody sounded thin and tinny in the open air. Voices and laughter filled the cracks between the notes. She tilted her head and squinted, trying to imagine how the steep walls would look from below. She wondered if the sky would look like water.

  She bent over, legs straight, back curved into line-up position, reaching downward. A gust of wind hit the back of her legs, and with it, quick and surprising, a flash of fear.

  Ria knew Fear well. It was a necessary part of diving. Sometimes it came as a whisper sending shivers skittering across her skin. Or it could be a buzz, humming in the background. Other times it appeared with a thud and bang, demanding immediate attention. Now, it nestled in close beside her, nudging her to step away from the edge. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.

  “I brought you a drink.” Sean was back.

  She stood up, face flushed, feeling caught.

  He grinned, handing her a cup.

  “Thanks.” She forced her voice to stay even. Fear was gone now. She sniffed the foamy cup, took a sip, and immediately wondered which food group beer fit into. It tasted like pure carbs.

  “How deep is the water?”

  “Are you going to dive in?” Charlie asked.

  “Of course not,” said Sean, wrapping his arm around her waist. “That’s gotta be fifty feet down.”

  “Oh, come on,” said Tony. “Go for it. Sean’s a lifeguard. What could go wrong?”

  Sean clutched her tighter. “Hey dip-wad, feel free to risk your own worthless life, but leave my girl alone.” To her, he said slowly, “Ignore him. You don’t need to prove anything.”

  Fear knew what he was worried about. If someone fell from this spot, higher than a dive platform, the water’s surface would feel like glass. Hard and cold. Unforgiving. And yet, from here it looked calm and inviting. Perfect. Only one bit of white skimming the surface.

  “Look at the cloud in there.” She pointed down.

  Sean laughed. “Are you already buzzed? You always notice the weirdest things.”

  She looked up, searching the clear but dimming sky until she found the cloud. A small one, all alone. She never would have noticed it except for the water’s reflection.

  “I could dive in.” She turned her attention back on Sean’s friends. “But I’d go from the other side. There are too many things to get caught on here. You heard about that boy who lost his head, didn’t you?”

  “No,” Charlie said, raising one eyebrow.

  “What happened?” Tony moved in closer.

  They stared at her, waiting. She tossed her hair, threw back her shoulders, and put on her performance stance, the one she used at meets. “Well, halfway down—CRACK!—his head hit the shelf . . . and stayed there.”

  “Ewww!” Someone laughed.

  “No effing way!”

  “The rest of him kept going, but not his head. It was on the shelf, eyes open, like he was looking around for the rest of him.” Her own eyes opened wide, as if in shock.

  “Gross.” Sean laughed. “No way did that happen.”

  “Uh-uh,” said Charlie.

  “We all would have heard about it.”

  Ria peered over the edge again, searching for proof, of something. It’s not like she wanted it to be true. She’d been haunted by Coach Benny’s story. His point had been that there was nothing to fear from diving off the platform, which was free from rocky hazards. But she’d gotten lost in the idea of that particular fall. The exhilaration of the leap, stopped suddenly by the hard rock shelf. It still made her heart race to think of it.

  Especially now that Charlie and Tony were wrestling too close to the edge.

  “Can we go down to the water?” She pointed at the narrow trail carved into the rock, leading down to the water’s surface.

  “It’s too late,” said Sean. “It’ll be dark soon.”

  As if to prove his point, the sun dropped behind the wall of rock. Although the sky still glowed, the rocks were disappearing into the shadows. The view was fading, turning fuzzy.

  “Why did they stop quarrying?” she asked.

  “Quarrying?” Charlie sputtered his drink. “You mean mining?”

  “Whatever it’s called. Why didn’t they keep going? There’s still more rock. It’s all the same along the walls. They could have gotten more.”

  “Does it matter?”

  It felt like it should.

  “I heard”—she eyed Sean, ready to read his expression—“that there’s all kinds of machinery under the water. When they shut it down, they left everything behind.”

  “Well, yeah. Look at this place. How would they get it out? Drive? They had to leave it all inside.”

  So that was true. The dark, smooth surface did hide dangers. “Where did the water come from? It must have been something natural, right? Is there water below the rock?”

  “I guess so.” Sean leaned in close. “You’re obsessing again.”

  He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers along her skin. Now that it was darker, she couldn’t clearly see the edge of the giant hole.

  Suddenly impatient, she said, “Do you want to dance?”

  “It’s not that kind of party. That would be weird.”

  “Maggie wouldn’t care. She’d dance anyway.”

  “You’re probably right.” He laughed, then frowned. “Aren’t you having fun? This is awesome, Ria. The quarry is legendary.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  He sipped from his cup and smiled. His arm stayed around her waist, but his eyes were on his friends who had wandered into the sea of bodies. None of them had girlfriends. Ria wished again that Maggie was here. She’d be able to convince Ria this party was as fun as Sean said it was. She knew how to laugh at nothing, to take something awful and make it bearable. If Maggie had been at that meet in LA, then maybe . . . but “maybe” was regret dressed up as make-believe. Otherwise known as useless.

  She slipped her hand into Sean’s. She was so lucky he’d asked her out. Maggie was the one who’d spotted the cute lifeguard first. Ria wouldn’t have noticed him. Lifeguards were irrelevant during their practices. Benny had his eye on his team, wound tight and ready to spring if something went wrong. She hadn’t known she’d need a boyfriend when everything fell apart.

  But now she was ruining his fun.

  “I’m going to go home,” she said.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t feel well.” It was the truth, but not anything sudden or new. It was the same general blah she couldn’t shake. So far, none of the parties, the hanging out, the fast-food sampler marathon—where they’d ordered something off every drive-through menu in town—or even the hours in the back seat of her car had turned out like she expected. Nothing seemed quite as good as Sean promised. But it wasn’t his fault. She was the one who didn’t know how to be normal.

  “You stay.” She handed him her full cup. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She could see him wrestling with his options. Fun party with beer and friends vs. being a good boyfriend.

  “I’m sure.”

  She was relieved he believed her. It was exhausting being cheered up and doted on.

  Back at the car, Ria stood on the side of the road, breathing deeply. Wind whipped around her, stinging her arms and legs. Then, suddenly, it subsided. She turned full circle, arms out. She waited, but the winds were
gone. An ache of missing hit her hard, in her gut.

  Two

  Home from the party, Ria took out her contacts, letting the world slip into its usual lack of clarity. Lying on her trampoline, she breathed in the rich smells of Maggie’s shampoo mixed with the dust of the trampoline and the sharp clean of chlorine soaked into her friend’s skin. Ria refused to ask about practice. She was used to denying cravings.

  “How was the quarry?” Maggie asked.

  “There’s nothing there.”

  “No one showed up?”

  “There were lots of people. It was a party. But the quarry, it’s a big hole. It only exists because it’s empty. Well, except for the cloud. There was a cloud in it.”

  “You’re so random, Ria.” Maggie laughed.

  “Do you remember that story Benny told about the quarry? The one about the boy who jumped in?”

  “And lost his head? How could I forget?”

  “Sean said it wasn’t true.”

  “Huh,” said Maggie. “It must have been partly true. Or it happened somewhere. Benny doesn’t lie. But sometimes the details aren’t all there. He leaves things out.”

  Ria shifted to her side, leaving her arm under her heavy head. The light from her house illuminated Maggie’s face and frizzy red hair against the dark beyond her yard.

  “How was practice?” She’d waited as long as she could.

  “Everyone misses you.”

  “Not everyone,” said Ria. Then, before Maggie could contradict her, she said, “I know Chrissy doesn’t.”

  “I think she actually does, even if she’d never admit it. The worst part is we’re not allowed to talk about you. Temo said your name the other day and had to climb the ladder for twenty minutes.”

  Ria didn’t trust her voice to answer. She couldn’t talk about them, either.

  Maggie rolled over, then clambered up. She stood on the springy surface, hovering over Ria. She bounced gently. Then more definitely. By the time she started circling, she was rising several inches into the night sky. Ria relaxed into the bounce of the old favorite game. She stayed limp, letting herself be lifted and lowered, following the rhythm of the jumps. Lost in the soothe of motion, then the rush of the drop, until she was elevated at least a foot off the bed of the trampoline. That’s when the thrill of the fall kicked in, setting them both to breathless giggling. Maggie rolled into a flip and landed on her butt.