Mirage(12)

Clicking noises fire off behind me. “Put that camera down,” I tell Dom. “Can’t you enjoy the moment without filming or snapping pictures?” I don’t actually mind, though. He sees something through that lens that magnifies reality.

“Nope. I have to capture you in all your wild glory. You don’t know how ragingly beautiful you are. You’re larger than life, Ry.”

I look over my shoulder and think, If I were, would I have to prove it all the time?

A rueful smile passes over my face. That sounds like something Joe would ask me. Or my dad. Why is brave only brave if it’s saving a life or fighting for your country? Why isn’t it considered brave to live your life to the fullest? I see so many people afraid to do that simple thing. We all die. Might as well skid into death, breathless and laughing, with life still clinging to you like perfume.

My clothes are scattered on the desert floor, so I gather them up and give them a shake, in case a spider or scorpion has scrabbled inside, before slipping them back on. Dom stares at the faraway lightning with his brows furrowed. He’s got some words for me?—?probably about our fight today?—?and is trying to figure out how to spit them out.

“I have to tell you something,” he finally says, which makes my hands curl into fists. “Your dad asked me to be in charge of the big-way for the corporate suits.”

“Great!” Maybe there’s hope after all. “So you can add me?—”

“He’s given me firm orders that you are not to be included in the jump.” I spin around to face him. His forehead creases as though he’s cringing to tell me this. “I know how bad you want to do it. I’m sorry, babe.”

“I will do it.”

“I gave my word.”

His voice rings with apology and helplessness, but that’s not soothing me. “You promised to screw me out of helping my family? Out of possibly being a part of the X Games? What about being fair to me? You know my dad’s being unreasonable.”

“It’s not my call. If it were, I’d let you do it.”

“You’re not one of his soldiers. Not every one of his orders has to be followed.”

“This one does. I hate to put it this way, but it’s not about you, so don’t pull any crap and jeopardize this for the rest of us or jeopardize your family’s business. It’s too important.”

While Dom has remained calm, my feelings are a tempest in the middle of my chest. I stand in the summer wind and puff through my nose like a bull deciding whether or not to charge. I want to light into him, even though it’s not his fault. I want to rip the goddamn wings off my dad’s planes. I want the entire big-way team to throw their rigs on the ground and refuse to jump unless I’m with them, like some movie football team. I want my dad to shake his head in defeat and say yes, yes, of course I’m needed.

Yes, I’m good enough.

Yes, I’m worthy.

One thing I won’t do is cry the tears that are closing up my throat and blurring my eyes. Behind all this talk of being “special” and “larger than life,” I realize, I just want a normal little thing, my father’s love and respect, and I’m sure he’s not capable of giving it to me.

“Say something.” Dom reaches for me. “It’s scary when you’re quiet like this. I don’t know if you’re calming down or plotting to bend the world to your will.”

I’m sure as hell not going to bend to the world’s will.

This defiant declaration is poised on my tongue, but I don’t say it. Instead I fall into the arms of the person who gets me because he’s so much like me. While Dom may be a calmer version, we both have unpredictable storms inside us. We both follow our hearts. We both get high off pushing the envelope. I admire that about us. If no one ever went outside of acceptable limits, we’d never know what we’re capable of. I know I’m capable of doing this jump, of helping my family, of earning my dad’s respect.

“I want to be part of something special.”

“Look in the mirror, Ryan. You are something special.”

The mirror . . .

“I don’t want to look in any more mirrors today.”

Remorse hits me. He probably thinks I’m talking about his idea to play in front of the mirror. “I don’t mean us,” I try to explain, but I can’t possibly explain this. Especially not when I’m attempting to convince him I can do the big-way.

My reflection is supposed to be mine alone. Now it’s like someone else is trying to step out from it. I hope this day was a glitch in the wiring, some kind of temporary mental speed bump. There’s the live-life-on-the-edge brand of crazy and the seeing-spirits-in-the-mirror brand of crazy.

I’ve felt more cold fear this day because of those searching, ghostly eyes than I did with pulling my chute at a thousand feet. That thrilled me but scared everyone else.

Better to be feared than fearful.





Seven


Dom pulls the car into my driveway, shuts the lights off, and turns toward me. “I’ve got something special you can be a part of,” he says. “Mauricio’s planning a party. You want to go on a little trip in the motor home?”

“My folks are never going to let me go off on a trip with you and your brother in some stranger’s abandoned motor home. Where do you guys think you’re going?”