Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [35]
Mary's dander was still up. "I was enthusiastic-until I realized how reckless and dangerous this is. Kathryn wants to climb down the face of the quarry. That's ridiculous."
"Only way to get there," said Hobbes mildly.
"Well, I'm not doing it. I'm going back."
"Me, too," chimed in Emma, and both rose to their feet.
Kathryn stared at them. were they abandoning her? Leaving her here with Hobbes Johnson? She glared in disbelief.
"Fine," she heard herself saying. "Go on back. If you're not brave enough to do it, I don't want you around." Again, she immediately regretted her words. It was as though her mouth were an organism unto itself, acting without her permission. She saw Mary draw herself up, hurt and angry. "If you have any sense at all, you'll come back with us. Face it, Kathryn-this was a terrible idea."
"If I decide to do something, I'm not going to back out just because it gets a little difficult. But you do whatever you want." Kathryn's face felt hot, and she realized she was just being stubborn, but the more the conversation went on, the more she felt herself dig in. "Come on, Mary. Let's go." Emma looked eager to leave the quarry and the unpleasantness. Mary gave Kathryn one more somber look. "Kathryn?" Kathryn merely shook her head, obstinate. The two other girls shrugged, lifted their bags, and headed for the maze of rocks that would lead them away from the quarry and back toward the colony. Kathryn watched them leave, suddenly feeling alone and friendless. And worst of all, now she was stuck with Hobbes Johnson. She gave him an awkward glance. He was watching the retreating girls, face impassive. What should she do? Wait a decent interval and then follow them? She couldn't imagine spending another two minutes with Hobbes. She looked down at the water below, remembering her determination to make it down there, to swim in the clear waters of the quarry, to practice her diving techniques. She felt Hobbes' eyes on her and looked up at him. He wasn't quite as vulky-looking as he used to be, but no one would ever call him attractive. He no longer wore braces, but a few red pimples dotted his face; apparently even dermal-regeneration treatments didn't work on his acne. Kathryn thought it looked disgusting. And he was as thin as ever, a long, reedy boy with a skinny neck and hair that tufted in unruly patches on his head. And there they were, alone together at the top of the quarry. Now what?
"Want to give it a try?" Hobbes' voice was as neutral as ever. It was as though he were suggesting they take a walk through the cornfields. Kathryn hesitated, options warring within her. She really, really wanted to swim in that quarry. She really, really didn't want to do it with Hobbes Johnson. She glanced down again, saw the clear water below, beckoning to her.
She shrugged, feigning tedium. "Might as well." She hefted her bag, rearranged the straps to carry it on her back, and edged toward the cliff wall to search for the best starting place.
"It's over here," said Hobbes, walking to a small crevasse a few meters away. He stepped easily into it, swinging his body around and deftly grasping handholds. He began climbing confidently down the quarry face, hands and feet finding their way with ease and efficiency. Kathryn was impressed. She'd done her share of rock climbing-credit The Meadows with that, for including this ancient sport in their physical curriculum-and had always enjoyed the challenge, but she lacked ease and style. She moved to the crevasse, immediately saw the places where Hobbes had found purchase, and began to follow him down the steep wall of the quarry.
Ten minutes later, they stood on a stone shelf that protruded over the water, a natural diving platform.
Hobbes had already opened his bag and was removing his breathing gill