The thoughts are so loud now in the back of my mind that I can almost hear the words. They’re so strong, so relentless, that I know I can’t ignore them for much longer. I can’t push them down and think of things that make me smile anymore. They’re winning.
I pop the DVD of Journey to the Center into the player and I don’t even make it to the couch. I sit down on the floor in front of the television. And I hit play. And I don’t take my eyes off the screen for the next hour while I reluctantly go along on the journey with three world-renowned BASE jumpers who made this jump in China. Three who lived doing it, whose passion to make the jump terrifies me on levels I don’t understand.
And when it’s over, I wipe the tears from my cheeks and absently watch the credits roll, but all I can hear are those screaming thoughts. And I hate them. I fucking hate them.
I open a web page on my phone and immediately begin googling BASE jumping. And for another hour I read story after story, and my life comes falling apart around me, bit by bit, piece by painful piece.
A BASE JUMPER DIES AFTER CRASHING INTO A CLIFF FACE.
… LEG SEVERED AT THE HIP AFTER CLIPPING A BRIDGE
The Deadliest Extreme Sport in the World
Another BASE jumping death—Troll Wall, Norwegian West Coast
… her parachute failed to open.
“If you’re not ready to die BASE jumping, you’re not ready to go BASE jumping.”—FROM THE SNAKE RIVER BASE ACADEMY’S READER
Welcome to Death Camp
… BOTH LEGS NEARLY SEVERED BELOW THE KNEE …
A Sport to Die For
HORRIFIC 2,000-FOOT PLUNGE TO DEATH
“The next best thing to suicide.”—Tom Aiello
“After identifying his body, it took me a long time to remember what he actually looked like.”
“Our friends started dying off one by one—that’s the reality of life and death in this sport.”
I can’t read anymore.
I leave my phone on the floor and push myself shakily to my feet, my hands running through the top of my hair, tears wet on my face, my heart exhausted.
Don’t let it scare you away. If you really like Luke as much as I think you do, remember why, and don’t let anything else change that.
Now I understand what Kendra meant when she said those words to me.
I can’t do this.
I rush quickly out the back door, letting the screen slam shut behind me. And I stare out at the ocean from the lanai, just like I did before, but now with a heavy heart and a thousand screaming thoughts inside my head, whose words are unmistakable: You weren’t cut out for this kind of life, Sienna, they tell me. You know there’s no way you can be with this amazing guy, always worried that he’s going to die too soon, they torture me. You knew this the second you learned about it, but you chose to ignore it because you’re falling in love with him, they remind me. This sport will kill Luke just like it did Landon, and you know it, Sienna, they haunt me.
I run down the steps and out onto the beach, falling against the sand on my bottom and crying into my hands.
“And I could never ask him to change who he is for me,” I say aloud to myself, recalling what he said to me just yesterday.
It’s in this moment that I know what had started as a vacation and became something so much more is over.
THIRTY
Luke
The first thing I notice when Braedon walks into our store after my short shift is his arm.
“Is that another tattoo?” I ask as he walks up in a black T-shirt where a colorful Mad Hatter peeks out on his right biceps.
“Yeah, man, whadya think?” He lifts the arm of the shirt away from the ink.
“That’s sweet,” I say, examining it closer. “When did you get it?”
“Yesterday after we went skydiving,” he says and drops the arm of the shirt back down.
The bell above the door chimes as a customer walks in—a regular, who comes in once a month. Braedon and I both wave at him from across the small space. He waves back and heads over to the surfboards on the back wall.
“Are yah ever gonna tell me about that girl you got stayin’ in your house?” Braedon grins faintly amid a tanned face framed by dark hair.