Blake kept an eye on the ground as he picked his way up a steep slope of crumbling stairs. There were no handrails, and while he may not have a life plan yet, he knew it didn’t include tumbling off the Great Wall of China.
FEA arrived in Beijing yesterday for their big fall semester trip. After a short night’s rest, the laoshis hustled them to the Great Wall this morning. Instead of going to Badaling or Mutianyu—the most touristy and therefore easiest-to-navigate sections of the Wall—they were hiking from Jinshanling to Simatai by foot. No cable cars, just steep stairs and more vertical climbs than Blake cared for.
On a normal day, Blake could’ve completed the hike in three hours instead of the usual four, but he was so distracted he lagged behind his friends, even Kris.
Well, not all of his friends.
Blake reached the next watchtower and drank from his water bottle. He watched Farrah out of the corner of his eye as she inched her way up the stairs toward him, her face pink with exertion.
She stumbled on a loose stone and pitched forward. Blake’s heart stopped. He reached out to help her, but Farrah regained her balance and scrambled up the rest of the stairs.
Blake’s heartbeat returned to normal.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Farrah brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.
It was the first word she’d said to him in six days (not that he was counting). She’d avoided him since Macau, and he didn’t blame her. He’d acted like a dick that night.
Farrah brushed past him and hauled herself through the watchtower window onto the next stretch of the wall. Blake followed suit. He waited until they edged across the narrow path beneath the watchtower and reached the broader main section before he spoke.
“So, how are you liking the hike?” He winced the instant the words left his mouth. Lame.
“Fine.”
Blake tried a different tack. “Have you been to Beijing before?”
“No.”
“It’s an interesting city.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Heard the laoshis are serving us poisonous mushrooms for dinner tonight.”
“Great.”
Blake groaned. “Farrah.”
“What?”
“Talk to me.”
“I am talking to you.”
Multiple words. That was an improvement. “Look, I know I acted like an asshole last week. I’m sorry.” Blake stumbled over the last word because he’d still tear that guy’s arm off if he had the chance.
The image of Farrah and Douchebag making out flashed through his mind. Blake’s jaw clenched.
He wasn’t sorry about tearing Douchebag away from her. He was sorry about the way he treated Farrah. He’d been hopped up on his own issues and jealousy and took them out on her.
Plus, that bit about loving her like a sister? Complete bullshit.
If Blake thought about Joy the way he thought about Farrah, he was in for some serious hell in the afterlife.
“Apology accepted.”
Silence fell.