“Deal.”
“Therapy.” Jamie sinks down next to me. “I’m in so much therapy, sometimes I don’t know where my mind is,” she says. “Family therapy, individual therapy, group therapy, it’s endless.”
“Why so much?”
“My parents are ‘afraid’ for me,” she says, air quotes and all. “There was an incident at my old school. I took some things out on myself. They panicked. Fast-forward to now: my mom says it’s all part of the healing process.”
“An incident?”
“I got beat up, okay?”
“One of the mean girls?”
“No. It was a guy.”
I’m furious. “A guy beat you up? Are you shitting me? What piece of scum would do that to a girl?”
“Points!” She throws some more my way.
“Who is he?” I growl. I want to know.
“So chivalrous.” Jamie shines at the thought. “But yeah, that happened and then I got busted for doing something stupid that I don’t want to talk about. Your turn.”
“Something stupid?”
“That I don’t want to talk about. Your turn.”
My turn. “I fell off a roof.”
“Fell or jumped?”
There’s really not a verb for what happened. I confusajumplefell. My mouth wants to clarify with a flurry of words, but it opts for only one. “Fell.”
“That’s it? That’s all it took to get you into group?”
“That’s it.”
“Well, that’s a bit overzealous.”
“Right?” I ask.
Whatever I had left of my nerves disappears. Vanishes. I’m with Jamie and Jamie’s with me, and it’s like the jumping beans in my gut have been drugged.
She springs up and tries to climb the railing of the bandstand.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to get a big shot of the park,” she says. “The light’s really good.”
“How high do you want to get?” I get out of the wheelchair and hop over to her.
“What do you mean?”
Bending down, I hold out my hand for her to step onto. “I’ll lift you up.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says.
“You won’t.”
She lightly steps with the ball of her foot into my open palm. “I hope you realize how much I’m trusting you. With everything.”
“I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”
“Ready.” Jamie holds her camera in one hand and steadies herself against the pole with the other.
I plant my left foot and raise her up, nice and steady.
“Holy crap! Holy crap!” she yelps. “You’re doing it with one hand?”
The sun blankets her hair with a yellow glow and casts her face in shadow. She’s so high above me. So slight, I could do this for hours. I feel her weight shift in my hand, like a broom you guide so it stays straight. “Don’t worry,” I say, not looking up her skirt. Even though I want to. “I’ll catch you if you fall. Take your shot.”
Her fingers balance against the dome, testing her center. Jamie’s stomach tightens and sends vibrations all the way down into mine. I got her. She will not drop. There’s a release in her feet after she takes her pictures, and I make sure she’s holding on to the rotunda. I hope she got what she needed.
“One last thing,” she says.
I look up.
The camera is pointed down at me. “Can I?” she asks. “Is it okay? This is too fantastic to miss.”
One flop of my wrist and she could be on the grass, but that snap reaction is gone. I don’t feel like hiding. Not with her. “Okay,” I tell Jamie, half expecting each click of the shutter to fall like drops of acid, but they don’t. It’s okay.
I gently lower her to the ground, where she jumps off with a tiny leap. “That was amazing,” she says in a rush.
I duck my head. “Aw.”
“No, it really was—that was incredible. I don’t know anyone in the entire world who can do that. It was like…flying!”
“I could really launch you if you wanted.”
“No doubt—you’re crazy strong. Like, insanely strong. I weigh way over a hundred pounds and you’re just like, boop, here, let me put you eight feet straight up in the air, like it’s nothing. Mad strong.”
My mouth presses shut. “I know,” I finally say.
“It’s a good thing!”
I realize this is the first time we’re standing together. I haven’t been in the wheelchair for a while now, and she’s looking up at me for once. She’s talking and I can actually hear what she’s saying. I grin. It’s a revelation. Here’s to the tall girls. “Today, it’s a good thing.”
“Be proud.”
In a new way, I am. “Thanks.”
My chair looks rigid and miserable. Let it stay by the steps; I want to be free. I relax onto the grass. It’s damp and clammy. Jamie sits down next to me, unasked. “I set the ringer on my phone.”
“To do what?”
“So we get you back to the hospital,” she says. “In case we lose all track of time.”
I go to kiss her. “Don’t.” She stops me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you really want to do this?”
“Jamie, I’m so into you.” I’m nervous, telling her that, but her smile is so big I know it’s okay.