Page 89 of Never Ever Getting Back Together

She shakes her head vigorously. “I don’t like heights. I hate them. No way.”

It’s maybe thirty feet high at most; like,trulynot that bad. Skye must have an actual phobia. I bump my shoulder against hers. “I thought you were Little Miss Adventure, running around Europe with a backpack for the last couple months?” I ask. “You can’t swim, you hate heights…”

“I like hiking, and I like new places. That doesn’t mean I’m going to jump out of a plane anytime soon.”

“I bet I could convince you to jump out of a plane.”

“I assure you, it’s not possible.”

“I’d hold your hand,” I tease.

“You can try it for the next fifty years and you won’t wear me down.”

“You’re on,” I say, before I realize the implication of that. I look away, blushing, then walk closer to the cliff faceto inspect it. “But as for tomorrow, just tell them you feel sick.”

“What, and have Jordy kick me out?” she asks. “I don’t think so.”

“Jordy isnotgonna kick you out,” I say. “If anything, I’m the one at risk.”

He’sconstantlycalling me up last at theNotte Infinitas,and that can’t be a coincidence. And if he’s already kissed Perrie, but not me or Skye, I don’t love our chances. If I win this challenge, though, maybe I can turn it around.

A whole night with Jordy—the last night before we film the finale episode next week—is a game changer. It’ll not only guarantee that I make it to the finale, but it’ll give me the time I need to convince him.

If I can mentally figure out a route, will that give me the advantage I need tomorrow? I’m not exactly a seasoned rock climber—in that I’ve never climbed anything more complicated than a backyard tree—but are any of us?

“Do you think I can convince Jordy to stand up for me if I do back out?” Skye asks.

“Yeah, I bet if you do the whole damsel thing, you’ve got a good shot,” I say, stepping back. “He’ll love the chance to look all masculine and protective, especially if he can get half-naked during it. But if worse comes to worst, I’ll yell at them for you if they try to force you.”

“Thank you, because I really can’t do it.”

“Skye,” I say. “You have my word. They’re forcing you up that cliff over my dead body.”

Breathing out and shaking her shoulders, Skye steels herself and pulls out the notepad and pen she insisted on bringing. Squinting at the cliff, she taps the pen against her chin. “Okay. Where do you think you should start?”

I study the rocks, drawing a mental path, and then slap one of the flatter ones on the bottom left. “Here.”

Nodding, she begins to draw.

By nighttime, I’m actually feeling pretty confident about tomorrow. The climblookedsimple enough, and I’ve had plenty of time to psych myself up for it. And with Skye’s diagram—which I spent half the afternoon memorizing with her help—I won’t even have to think. I’ll just have to climb. Theoretically, anyway, but, like Skye always says, her ideas are always good. All things considered, I’m pretty sure I’ve got this in the bag.

That is, until Perrie, Skye, and I are gathered on the back porch—Skye and Perrie with wine, me with a Pepsi—and Perrie leans in to tell us a secret.

“So,” she says, “apparently tomorrow’s challenge is rock climbing. I’m pretty sure they want me with Jordy tomorrow night. Why else would they do rock climbing?”

I choke on my drink. “Uh… what’s rock climbing got to do with you?”

Perrie looks surprised. “I love it. I go bouldering a couple of times a month. It’s fun, it’s great for building up your lats, which aresuperhard to target, and you get the best photos at the top with the view behind you. I’m surprised I haven’t mentioned it before.”

“Nope,” I say faintly. “Guess it never came up.”

“I literally work at a climbing gym.”

“I thought you were a receptionist,” I say.

“Yeah, I am. At a climbing gym.”

Now that I think about it, I did notice the amount of mountaintop shots on Perrie’s Instagram when I checked itout before losing my iPad (I’d been curious to see if her follower count had grown from the show, and was happy to see a healthy boost from what she’d told me). It hadn’t clicked that she could be climbing her way up, though. I figured she just walked—or dragged—her way up, complaining the whole way, before smiling for the camera. You know, like a normal person.

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