Page 72 of Malaise

“You any good at climbing?” he asks, craning his neck forward to stare out the windscreen at the tall fence.

“I’ve been known to scale the odd tree in my younger years.”

He snorts a laugh and releases his hand from under mine. I tug the sleeve of Den’s sweatshirt down to trap the warmth in my palm and keep that little bit of him with me for as long as possible. Yeah, I know you’re watching from up there, big brother. If Den were still here there’d be no way in hell he would have let me leave the house with Carver, let alone risk getting busted breaking in to the Scout camp. He was the delinquent of the family, and he was intent on keeping it that way. “You’ve got a shot at this thing called life, sis,” he’d say. “Don’t screw it up for a few years of fame. Keep your head down and just do you.”

Well here I am, Den, just doing me. Fuck the rest; let’s be the best.

“Coming?” Carver stands at my now open door, hand outstretched.

I give him a smile and whole-heartedly embrace this new beginning I’ve been gifted, stepping out into the chilly night air ready to kick life in the guts and just live without worrying about the what-ifs.

“You want me to show you how it’s done?” I tease, looking up at the eight-foot chain-link fence before us. The loops are large enough for me to slip a toe of my slim-sole boots in, but Carver’s probably going to have trouble in those thick military-style ones of his.

“Ladies first,” he says with a wink. “Unless you packed bolt cutters in those pockets of yours, this is it.”

My heart picks up pace at the thrill of it. We’re not doing anything that bad considering we won’t damage any property or put anyone at risk. It’s not as though we’re racing cars down the highway. Yet still, there’s that element of knowing that what we’re doing is illegal that brings every recess of my body to life.

Left foot first, I get a good purchase in the links and place both hands over my head. The steel rattles as I hoist my bodyweight up and start the climb. Carver watches on from beneath me—to catch me, or to cop a good look at my arse? I’m not sure. Either one leaves me feeling warm though, so I’ll take it.

I reach the top and snag my palm on the sharp ends that protrude from the top of the fence. Didn’t think about this part, did you? Yep, definitely not feeling so clever now.

“You okay?” Carver calls from the ground.

“Uh.” I take a quick look left and right, but given it’s dark as hell with only a crescent moon tonight, I can’t see anything but more fence. “I didn’t plan out how exactly I was going to get over the top.” Screw this one up and it’s another trip to the ER.

“Hang there.” The fence wobbles beneath me, and I grip the links a little tighter. Mere seconds later Carver appears to my left. A grin spreads from ear to ear after he takes one look at me hanging on, stunned like a possum in the spotlight. “Still confident there, Meg?”

“Shut up and show me how the hell to get over the other side, would you?”

He chuckles. “Watch my hands and mirror what I do.”

I keep my gaze firmly fixed on his fluid movements as he leans one arm over the fence to grab the far side, and then hoists his body up further until he has his whole upper half hanging over the top, both hands gripping the opposite side. With effortless ease he flops his legs over the top and to his left, twisting around in the process to end right way up before he lets go and drops the final four or so feet to the ground.

“Your turn,” he calls out before huffing on his hands to warm them up.

I glance between him and where my hands grip the fence with such force that I swear I’m about to fuse flesh to metal irrevocably. “You can do this,” I whisper. Nothing to it. Piece of cake. Show him how it’s done, Meg.

“Uh, Carver?”

“Yeah?” He steps closer so he’s flush with the fence beneath my position.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this shit. Plus, I have a bloody skirt on.”

A deep, resonating belly laugh bounces off the trees behind him. “Oh, Meg. All talk and no walk, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Like some help?”

“If it’s not too much of an inconvenience,” I snap. “Preferably before my hands go numb.”

Still chuckling, he places both hands on the chain and hoists himself up until he’s close enough for his breath to warm my face.

“Right hand over here.” He points to the fence at his chest height.

I shuffle my position until I can reach far enough down his side to grip where he pointed.

“Now, we’re going to do this a little different, otherwise you’ll probably freak out and fall on your head or some shit.”