The Things We Leave Unfinished by Yarros, Rebecca (phonics reading books .txt) 📕

“I don’t know Zach. He looks like he’s in high school!”

“Taking a gap year, actually,” the employee answered, waving up at me.

“You’re not helping,” Noah said quietly, but I still heard him. “But Zach is employed here, and you dying would probably really mess up his job, so I think you can trust that he’s a professional.”

“You move and I swear I’ll kick off my shoes so they hit you in the head, Morelli!” I shut my eyes for a second and stared straight ahead at the textured, gray rock of the climbing wall. Looking down made it even worse.

“Well, at least I rate higher than someone,” Noah joked.

“Barely!” I reached for the green handhold just above my right hand, then secured my foot on the next logical hold and pulled myself up the wall. “This only makes me hate you more,” I said as I gripped the next hold.

“But you’re climbing,” he countered.

Again, I reached for the next handhold, placed my feet, and continued upward. “I guess I just don’t see how this is going to help solve our plotting issues, considering I’m going to kill you as soon as I get down from here.” I was only a few feet away from the accursed bell. As soon as I rang that sucker, I was home free.

“I’ll take my chances,” he called up. I couldn’t help but notice how tight he kept the line. It was comforting, seeing I had to be a good twenty-five feet above him now. “You know, if you honestly hate it that much, I’m not gonna hold you to the bargain. This is really about trusting me, not hating me.”

I kept my eyes on the prize and hoisted myself another foot, then two. “The hell with that,” I called down. “I’m almost there.”

“You sure are.” I heard the pride in his voice and glanced down to see the same as he smiled up at me.

I was far from happy, but even I could admit I felt empowered. Capable. Strong.

Well, maybe not that strong. My arms and legs shook with fatigue as I made that last handhold and climbed the last twelve inches by sheer willpower alone.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Yes!” Noah shouted.

I felt the bell’s vibrations from the depths of my soul. They were strong enough to break apart my own preconceived notions that this was impossible. Strong enough to wake parts of me that had been sleeping since long before Damian’s latest indiscretion.

Perhaps even before I met him.

Just because I could, I rang the bell again just once. This time it wasn’t in desperation to be let down, to be set free of the bargain I made for myself, or to be validated by the person who had set me on this task.

It was in victory.

Logically, I knew it wasn’t Everest. I was maybe forty feet up a climbing wall in a professional environment, secured with ropes, a harness, and a liability policy.

But my chest swelled, filling with a ferocious sense of pride nonetheless.

I could still do hard things.

Gran was gone, Damian had betrayed me, and Mom had left yet again, but I was still here. Still climbing.

And though there was part of me that wanted to throttle Noah, I knew he was the only reason I was on this wall, climbing in the first place. He was the reason I’d started paying attention to my own life again. The reason I looked forward to waking up in the morning lately.

It wasn’t that I was living for him, but that he simply made me want to live. To fight. To prove my point. To take a stand when I’d usually defer to someone else’s emotions and take the path of least resistance.

Maybe my life had caught on fire, but that’s where I shined, right at the melting point where I could take the molten remains and reshape them into something beautiful. I wanted to sculpt again. I wanted to bend glass to my will. I wanted another chance to be happy, which led me to glance in Noah’s direction. I wanted…to get down because whoa was I high.

“Okay,” I called to him. “How do I get down?”

“I’ll lower you.”

“You’ll what?” I chanced another look in his direction. Holy shit—this actually was Everest. He looked a million miles away. So much for feeling empowered. I wanted off this thing now.

“I’ll lower you,” he repeated, slowing his words down, as if I’d misunderstood instead of balked.

“And how exactly does that work?” I gripped the handholds tighter, whitening my knuckles.

“Easy,” he said. “You sit back in the harness, then walk your way down the wall as I lower you.”

I blinked a few times, then looked down again. “I’m supposed to just lean back and trust that you won’t drop me on my ass?”

“Exactly.” He grinned shamelessly, and for the first time, I didn’t find it all that charming.

“What if the rope breaks?”

His grin faded. “What if there’s a massive earthquake?”

“Are we expecting one?” My biceps screamed in protest as I held myself there, perched on the damn wall like a lizard.

“Are you expecting me to drop you?” he challenged.

“It would make it easier on you to finish the book,” I argued.

“There’s some truth to that,” he admitted. “And I’m sure the story behind the murder would really drive sales.”

“Noah!” There was nothing funny about this, and yet there he was, teasing me.

“The chances of an earthquake are far more likely than those of me dropping you.” There was an edge to his voice this time, but when I took another look at his face, there was only patience. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Georgia. You have to trust me. I’ve got you.”

“Can’t I just climb down?” It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

“Sure, if that’s what you want to do,” he answered, his voice dropping.

“Yeah,” I whispered to myself. “I’ll just climb down.” Surely it couldn’t be any harder than climbing up here had been, right?

Muscles aching and plagued by tiny, incessant tremors, I