Mallory shudders. “Why would anyone want to rock hop?” She looks to Ben for confirmation.
He puffs up at the attention. “Countless people have plummeted to their deaths off of ledges just like this. At the Grand Canyon alone, 126 deaths have been recorded just from falls. That doesn’t include drownings, dehydrations, or cardiac arrests.”
“Thank you, Ben,” Mai says.
It sounds more like, Screw you, Ben. I take a step toward her and have to stop myself. I can’t even stand by her. Damn rules.
“No one has died up here,” Amber says. “There’s solid footing in most spots.”
“But probably more snakes,” Ben adds. “They like to curl up under rocky outcroppings. Good places to lie in wait and then strike.” He stabs the air with two fingers like they’re the fangs of a rattler. Mai jerks back.
“All right, enough of that,” Amber says.
Mai glances at me. I can’t read her eyes with her sunglasses on, but I know she’s worried. I give her a nod. You’re okay. You got this. I don’t get a smile, but her mouth relaxes a little.
Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Lying in bed, the dark around me, imagining what it would have been like for her as a kid, lost, in the desert. I knew Mai was determined. Focused. But it’s always been about school and career. This is different. This is tackling a fear she could avoid. Makes me admire her even more. Makes me want to help.
I could start by shoving Ben’s finger fangs down his throat.
“Let’s head up toward that big boulder at the top,” Amber says. “Before we start rearranging boulders, we want to clean the area, wipe away any signs that people belong. You all have a garbage bag, right?”
I pull mine from my back pocket and shake it out. There’s a chorus of flapping black bags that startles some birds loose. I’m guessing there are lizards and other critters also making a run for it. I’m glad for Mai’s sake. She’s had enough lizards and snakes for a while.
The group starts moving, a broken line of khaki and floppy hats. Mai is wearing the one I lent her. I like seeing her in it more than I should.
There’s a rough patch of trail, and I watch Grant take Mai’s hand and help her over the uneven boulders. A knot of frustration settles beneath my ribs. I’m not her knight in shining armor. I’m no one’s. So why do I wish I could be?
When we reach a large, flat boulder, Amber turns to the rest of us. “This is a popular party spot in the area. We’re going to close it off using boulders, cuttings from yesterday, and the bucket.”
That gets everyone’s attention.
She pops off the lid and shows us the contents. “Cholla balls.”
I grin at what I always think of as the porcupine of cactus. Cholla plants have lots of short, stubby arms that are surrounded by needle-sharp thorns.
“Don’t get too close,” Ben barks, throwing an arm in front of Mallory. “That’s jumping cholla.”
“Thank you, Ben.” Amber sets down the bucket. “It is, indeed, jumping cholla. But cholla doesn’t actually jump. The arms aren’t connected very well to the body of the cactus, so they fall off easily, and because of the sharp needles, they attach themselves to whoever had the misfortune of knocking them loose.” She grins. “The nice thing for the Park Service is it makes it easy to collect what we call Cholla balls.”
“You spread those around to keep people away?” Mallory asks.
Amber nods. “A line of boulders doesn’t always stop people. Cholla usually does the trick. But first things first. Let’s get up all the trash.”
Mallory and Ben take the area to our right. Grant and Mai head for the back of the boulder. That leaves me and Amber working our way around the front toward the left. There are a few Palo Verdes, green arms shooting up like fingers. I pick up chunks of glass, pausing when I see something glimmer from a shadowed spot under the boulder. I pull it free, but it’s only a rock with some lighter minerals that must have caught the sun.
“Are you looking for something?” Amber asks.
“Just keeping my eyes open.”
Her bag clangs as she drops in more glass. “You make more than just cuffs?”
“I mess around.”
She smiles. “I’m guessing it’s more than that.”
We work quietly then, the sun moving higher as we clear the area. Something else catches my eye, and I dig up the edge of a bottle cap. It’s bronze, warm from the sun and smooth from the gravel. I pull off my glove and turn it over in my fingers. It feels good. Interesting, though I’m not sure why. Not yet. I stuff it in the pocket of my jeans. As I do, I feel a prickle over my neck. I turn. Mai is watching me.
Chapter Seventeen
Mai
What is he doing?
I pretend to look for trash, but how can I concentrate when Anthony is doing mysterious things? Whatever he was looking at is tucked in his jeans pocket. Why do I care what he’s picked up?
“Grant,” Amber calls, pulling me from my thoughts. “Help me move this boulder?”
“Sure.”
He heads her way, and I watch him go. He’s handsome. Smart. Nice. Ambitious. I should be thinking about him and not what’s in Anthony’s pants.
Oh Lord. Even my thoughts are conspiring against me. The sooner I’m over this annoying attraction, the better. I allow myself a secret smile. Tonight should be good. He’s going to hate tonight.
I wander down the trail looking for more trash. I’ve just used my grabbers to unearth a beer can when I realize I’m back to the ledge where Amber showed us the rock hop trail.
The hillside is rocky, dotted with brush and cacti and stretches of green. It amazes me that grass can grow here. That anything can. The trail is a golden brown vein at the bottom, running straight and smooth. But getting to it?
No freaking way.
“You could do it.”
I startle. Anthony steps up beside me. He blocks the sun with his body, but I still feel my temperature rise. “I’d never want to try.”
“Doesn’t mean you couldn’t do it.”
This seems like a good time to change the subject, so I do. “What did you pick up earlier?”
He shifts toward me and lowers his voice. “Watching me, are you?”
“I watch everyone. I’m a very watchful person.”
His mouth tips in a half grin. “There’s buried treasure up here.”
I quirk an eyebrow even though he can’t see it. “You’re finding treasure? Because the rest of us are finding beer cans.”