Page 50 of Free Fall #1

He flips the page and I see another scrawl of notes about the downclimb. “Have some faith in me.”

“I don’t suppose I can stop you?”

“You could,” he says, but he sounds like he really doesn’t want me to.

I feel like, if I do, I’ll be taking something precious from not only him, but from me too.

This isn’t a test, but it’s a moment when I can either expand or contract, when I take from him or give to him.

I sit with it for a long time before I say—

“Alright. So, is it going to be tonight or tomorrow morning? We have to leave fairly early if I’m going to be home in enough time to do laundry and be ready for my afternoon Movement class.”

“Tomorrow,” Dan says. “At dawn.”

“Okay,” I murmur.

“The weather looks good for it.”

We drop the subject and clean up the dinner mess.

Afterward, we climb up to the roof of the van with a small Bluetooth speaker and toss some soft blankets down to cushion our backs on the hard surface. We lie there staring up at the stars while my favorite soft KPop playlist spins out songs, and Dan starts to hum along to some of them.

I hadn’t realized he’d grown fond enough of some of the music to learn the melodies, nor had I realized how deep his singing voice is.

He has to hum everything an octave lower, providing a warm harmony.

We don’t talk much, but that’s one of the nice things about being with Dan. It doesn’t always require conversation.

We hear voices and music from the few other cars and campers still in the parking lot, and yet it feels like we’re in our own little bubble.

“Is your dad coming for Thanksgiving?” Dan says at the end of a song.

“Yes. We talked again the other day, and he’s booked the hotel Leenie suggested for him.”

“Mm.”

“So, we have to stick around for that…”

“Of course. We can leave after the holidays.”

“We’ll live in your van?”

“Sure.”

I take a deep breath. “Do you really want to meet him?”

“No, but I guess I will because that’s what boyfriends do, right? Meet families.”

I huff lightly, offended despite having asked, and also having already known the answer. “Why don’t you want to meet him? He’s a good guy.”

“I’m sure he is, but A—I’m fucking his son, and B—I live in a van, and C—I’m weird, and D—I don’t have a job. I might not really understand people all that well, but I know how that looks from the outside. He’s gonna hate me.”

I sigh. Dan’s not wrong, entirely. “He won’t hate you. He’ll just be confused and worried.”

“Which will worry you, and I prefer it when you’re not worried.”

I almost say then stop free soloing . But I clamp my mouth shut against it.

As much as I hate what he does, I also know that I love it too. Free soloing is part of who Dan is, and I love Dan. I love this weird, fragile life we’re building together. I love nights on top of his van, and his tasty egg scrambles, and the showers in a fucking waterfall. I love it all.

I love him . So I have to make peace with free soloing.

“Did you hire that guy?” Dan asks after “Spring Day” by BTS plays, and I’ve half-assed my way through the Korean lyrics. “The one from Seoul, but who’s living in LA?”

“We agreed to start the first week of November.”

Dan kisses my fingers again. “Good.”

“I told him by email that I’m adopted and that I’ve been raised by a white family, so I know nothing. He seems eager to help introduce me to the language of my birth country, and he didn’t seem judgy about it. I think it’ll be fun.”

“New things are always fun for you.”

“Aren’t they for you?” I ask.

“Of course. But I also like the tried and true. When I find a good thing, I like to stick with it.”

Astro’s song “gemini” begins, and Dan sighs happily. “This one makes my chest ache.” He kisses my fingers yet again and asks, “Sejin? What makes you feel alive? The most alive?”

“You.”

“Ah.”

It feels like the wrong answer, and I think about it harder.

I’ve felt alive before Dan, and I know he’s right that even if he leaves my life, I’ll eventually feel alive again after him.

I consider the stars and I think about the times when I’ve felt the most sharply aware of the magnificence of living and all of them do have something in common.

“Love,” I say. “Love makes me feel alive.”

Dan touches my cheek.

“I think that’s what life’s about. Grabbing hold of love. Laughing with my mom, listening to KPop, dancing, being around kids, touching you, traveling… They’re all precious experiences I hold with love.”

Dan turns on his side and I do the same. We kiss tenderly, nothing intense, and then roll onto our backs again to study the stars and hum along to my playlist.

Eventually, I say, “Alright. I’ll watch you.”

“You’ll watch? Really? That’s brave, Doc.” He’s more impressed with my willingness to watch him risk his life than he is with himself for risking it.

“Don’t mess up and make me regret it.”

“I’ll do my best. I always do.” Dan takes hold of my hand and holds it against his chest. I can feel his heart beating there, strong and vibrant. I think about the night we met and how he’d fucked me silly—and how I’d let him.

He kisses my fingers, and I remember the day he came to the coffee shop determined to talk me into giving him another try, despite my fears—and again, I’d let him.

He lifts his finger to the sky to point out a falling star, and I think of the ways I’ve tried to guard my heart, but he’s kept on effortlessly, guilelessly coming for it—and I’ve let him snatch it.

There isn’t much I haven’t let Dan do. There isn’t much I won’t let him do in the future either. And there are reasons for that.

I didn’t fall in love with a flawless man. I fell in love with this man.

I need to remember that whenever I get scared. I pull his hand to my mouth and kiss his fingers this time.

The stars soar above us, a canopy of tiny lights.

*

Dan

The morning breaks open with pinks and corals, and I’m halfway up the pillar as the sun crests the horizon.

I’ve left Sejin on the ground below, wrapped in a blanket in a lawn chair, sipping hot coffee and pretending not to be scared out of his mind. I have my back to him, so I can’t see his reactions, but I’m moving easily and well. I hope it reassures him to see me so thoroughly in my element.

Acid Rock, the name of the route up Pillar Two, begins with a steep hand crack from the inside corridor.

Easy, but it takes concentration even when hooked into ropes.

But today I’m out here just me, the wind, the rock, and my strength.

I’m dialed in to every crevice, every hold, and thinking about every shift of my body.

As I climb up to a sturdy ledge and step onto it, I chalk up again and take a moment to turn to Sejin.

He’s sitting with his head tilted back, his hand over his eyes to block the sharp rays of the morning sun and obstructing any hope of reading his expression as well.

I give him the OK sign with my hand and then a thumbs-up.

He gives me one back, and my heart thumps.

It’s not the most enthusiastic thumbs-up I’ve ever seen, but he’s not frantically waving me down either. So that’s a win.

I turn back to the rock. At this point, it’s a little harder, but nothing I can’t handle.

It’s just up the main pillar, past the horizontals, making note of, but not touching, the equipment left in the rock for those coming up on ropes, and then I’m at the crux to the top.

It feels like magic. My fingers lock on the grips, my toes find their holds easily, and I’m climbing like I do this route every day.

I’m sweating, but only barely, and when I come out on top, hands on hips, and the sun shining in my eyes, I let out a sigh of satisfaction.

It’s quiet up here.

Birds, wind, and the sound of my own breath.

“Whoo!” drifts up from the ground, and I see folks in the parking lot watching as they climb out of their cars and vans, applauding for me.

I turn to where Sejin is waiting and he’s standing up clapping too.

No whoops coming from his lips, but he’s smiling.

I can see the glint of the sun on his teeth, and when he waves at me this time, it’s full of excitement… and probably relief.

I take the view in, savoring the clouds, the blue, pink, and yellow sky.

After deciding to head on down, I chalk up my hands and give Sejin another thumbs-up before directing him to go on down to the parking lot area where I’ll descend like we planned.

This direction is an easier downclimb, but what I didn’t tell Sejin is that downclimbs are always the most dangerous part of any free solo.

A lot can go wrong when gravity’s tugging you down faster than you want to go.

But I’ve done this one before, and it’s easy enough, and when my feet touch the floor, I’m grinning.

There.

Done.

Just as I told Sejin, it was easy peasy, lemon squeezy, and I’m not even tired. I’ve got plenty of energy for the drive home.

“You’re amazing,” Sejin says, as I step into his arms. He holds me tight. “Terrifying, but amazing.”

“You should see me climb something hard.”

Sejin squeezes me even closer, nuzzles my cheek, and says nothing.

I hold him tight too, and all the gawkers disperse at the sight of two guys being all couple-y.

Except for one family with some little kids.

They stay, and I brace myself for some kind of confrontation from the very bro-dude-looking dad when we finally break apart and start back toward our van.

Instead, one of the kids runs up to me with a paper and pen, saying, “Mister! Excuse me! Can I get your autograph, please?”

He can’t be more than nine or ten and Sejin bites his lip, looking to me for my answer, and my heart thumps at his adorable attempt not to smile.

Squatting down, I accept the paper and pen, and scrawl my name on it along with a crude drawing of the sun, and a smiling mouth.

The kid shifts from foot to foot as I do it, and his mom—a redheaded lady with freckles on her nose—approaches, leaving the father behind with the other two kids.

She says, “Laken here wants to be a pro climber one day too. Any tips?”

“Yeah,” Sejin says. “Tip number one—let someone pay you to do it.”

I feel Sejin’s hand slip into my hair and tousle it. “This one’s a purist. He does all that crazy stuff for free, believe it or not.”

The woman laughs. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” I agree, and the kid asks, “What’s it say?” as I hand him the paper.

“My name. Dan McBride.”

“Never heard of you.”

“Yeah, well…”

I don’t know what to say to that, and his mother scolds him lightly.

“That’s by design,” Sejin offers. “He’s private.”

But his mother’s disapproval doesn’t keep the kid from saying, “It’s alright. I’ll keep this until you are famous. Then I’ll sell it on eBay.”

“Mercenary,” Sejin says with a chuckle. “I like it.”

I stand up, wiping my palm on my pants before shaking hands with Laken’s mother who then guides her son away with a firm grip on his shoulder.

Laken keeps looking back and waving. I stand with my hands in my pockets until the family has unloaded their gear for the day and started off down the nature trail.

As they pass us, I hear the dad ask, “So, what’s he like? Is he batshit?”

“Yes,” Sejin murmurs under his breath. “Yes, he’s absolutely batshit insane.”

But then he kisses me and strokes his hands over my cheeks, his eyes wide, and awestruck. “You really are amazing.”

“You think so?”

“Seeing you up there? Holy shit, Dan. You climbed like it was nothing, like that pillar was put there by the universe as a plaything just for you. And when you reached the top? Seeing you up there backlit by the sunrise? I don’t know.

It was like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

You looked like an angel. It took my breath away.

What a wonder. What a terrifying thing to do. ”

“Do you really want me doing it for money? Like you told that lady?” I ask, turning back to Sejin, and throwing my arms around his neck, reeling him in for a quick kiss.

When we break apart, Sejin rubs his nose against mine and says, “I want you to be alive, really alive, like you were talking about last night. I want you to feel it in your bones and in your soul. If it takes free soloing to do that, then okay. And if you have to do it for free in order to feel that way about it, fine. Money isn’t everything. ”

I kiss his cheek. Money isn’t everything, it’s true, but it’s a lot. And the life I lead is going to have to change before long. I was lucky to have that surprise trust fund from my biological grandfather for the last few years, but it’s almost run dry and I can’t continue on this way.

That’s a bridge to cross when I eventually come to it.

For now, I need to focus on sending Heart Route and putting my goal to bed. Then I can move on in whatever direction I want to go.

I just know, no matter what, I’m taking Sejin with me.