Unsung

Chapter Thirty-Three

I never would've thought that a sport where you jump over objects and climb walls would be enough to change my mood, but forty-five minutes later I was proven wrong. From the moment Trick had begun the day's lesson, everything else—the fake fall, being duped, Cain's admission—sort of just faded away.

Because the truth is, you can't really focus on anything else when you're busy trying to vault over a block as high as your chest, without breaking your neck in the process.

"One more time!" Trick yelled, as I regarded the obstacle in front of me. "You got this!"

I narrowed my eyes. That was easy for him to say. He hadn't been the one landing butt-first on the floor for the past thirty minutes. He hadn't made a fool of himself in front of his new friends. He wasn't going to have to ice his tush when he got home.

Nope, that was all me.

I wanted to tell him where to shove his words of encouragement, but I didn't want to come off as too complainy. After all, the others were all vaulting over their own barrage of obstructions with minimal to no argument. A few jumped over a beam, others over a wall. Ris was hopping over two blocks in a row with apparent ease. I was the only one training with the single block, and the only one with a cushy mat to catch me on the other side.

In other words, I was the beginner in our group. And it sucked, royally.

Letting out a guttural cry, I took off running, making note of my steps as I crept closer to the block. They had to be timed perfectly. Left, right, left. I counted down and then leapt through the air, my arms extended in front of me, poised to hit the middle of the block, where Trick had drawn two circles as my intended targets.

As my legs left the ground and I became airborne, I let out every curse word I could think of, in sort succession. Then I felt my hands make contact with the block and pulled my legs into my chest tightly Trick had taught me. I continued to soar over the block, realizing quickly that I was traveling further than I ever had before. Surprised by this, my limbs seemed to freeze up and I forgot to open back up on the other side.

There was a brief moment where all the noises around me faded away to nothing—and then I crashed hard into the mat on the other side. After several less than elegant rolls, I came to a stop three feet away from the mat with a loud flop. I lay there for a few moments, flat on my back and staring up at the lights above me.

Was this what they meant by a white light experience?

"You okay?" Trick asked, his face appearing above me, blocking my direct path to heaven, and proving that I hadn't actually died a completely mortifying death after all. Nope, I would be alive to experience all my current and future humiliations. Yay me.

"Uh, no," I responded, glumly. "You saw me face plant, right?"

Trick held out his hand and helped me to my feet, which were still shaking from my fall. Then he smiled. I wasn't sure why. None of what I'd just done was good.

"I did!" he said, cheerily. "You got closer to landing your Kong vault that time."

I frowned. "I nearly rearranged my face," I said.

"But you didn't land on your butt," Trick pointed out.

"I don't have to show my butt in public," I answered, annoyed.

"I'm telling you, you're so close to getting it," he said, more excited than I was.

"You know why they call it a Kong vault?" I asked him flatly. "Because only King Kong could do it."

Trick smiled at that, which actually made me like him more. As much as you could like someone who was forcing you to embarrass yourself over and over again.

"And yet, you've almost crushed it," Trick said, crossing his arms.

I sighed. I could tell there was nothing I could say that would make him see that I just wasn't built to jump over things. So, I settled for distracting him instead.

"You said we were doing something else today?" I asked, hoping that whatever it was, would require my feet to stay on the ground.

Trick checked the clock on his phone, and then nodded. "We went over time a little, but we should still be able to get some cat work in," he said. "If we're quick."

"Cat work?" I asked, worriedly.

Cats had nine lives. I only had one. One that I wanted to hold onto for as long as possible. From the looks of it, Trick had other ideas.

He called everyone in and then led us over to a section where several cement walls were erected. A few were waist-high. Others were taller than me. Each were about six inches wide across the top.

All were completely intimidating.

"In parkour, we do a lot of tricks on walls," Trick explained, mostly for my benefit I assumed. "Sometimes we jump over them. Sometimes we run up them. Sometimes we hang from them. One of the most basic wall skills is the cat hang. Garrick, you want to demo?"

Garrick grinned, proud to have been called on to show off for once.

Without responding, Garrick popped over to the closest wall, placed his hands along the edge and then pulled both his feet up until they were no longer touching the ground.

So much for keeping my feet on the floor.

"Perfect," Trick said, nodding.

Several seconds ticked by and then suddenly Garrick let go of the wall with one of his hands and then turned back to face the rest of us. Extending his free arm out in front of his body, he made little "psh, psh" sounds exactly like Spiderman did when he was unleashing his webs.

I stifled a laugh when I realized what he was doing.

Trick chuckled too, though the others around us mostly just rolled their eyes.

"Okay, Peter Parker," Trick said genially. "You can put away your webs."

Garrick hopped down from the wall and then gave a little bow. Austin, Sophia and I were the only ones who applauded. The others stood around looking like we were wasting valuable learning time. I, for one, was fine with the distraction.

"Technically, you're only required to do the first part of what Garrick showed you," Trick said once he had our attention again. "That means, you'll find a section along one of these walls, grip onto the top with your fingers while your palms press into the same side of the wall where your feet will go. Once you feel like you have a solid grip, step your feet up one at a time and hang there, arms straight and legs apart, kind of like a frog."

"Or Spiderman," Garrick chimed in. "Spiderman's way cooler than a frog, man."

"Or like Spiderman," Trick repeated with a smile. "In order to move on to harder moves, you'll need to be able to hold your cat hang for at least 10 seconds. Once you can do that, we'll be able to teach you way cooler things. Like this."

Trick turned around, charged straight toward a ten-foot wall behind us, ran right up its side, before finally gripping onto the ledge in the same cat hang pose Garrick had just showed us. Then, with one final burst of energy, he braced one leg above the other and pulled himself up until he was standing on the ledge staring down at us.

"Whoa," I breathed, thoroughly impressed.

Garrick was right. He was way more Spiderman than frog.

"All you've gotta do is master the cat hang," he said with an easy smile. "And then we can get to the good stuff."

I looked back at the wall in front of me and sighed.

Easiersaid than done.