When Hank slipped off the rock, Erin realized she had been staring, slack-jawed. She was relieved Marama hadn’t caught her. Lifting his T-shirt to wipe his brow, Hank revealed a rock-hard stomach.
To shake free of those thoughts, Erin studied the azure sky and ate hummus. She wanted to run her fingers over Hank’s arms. And his six-pack. Or eight-pack, she couldn’t be sure.
Vowing to swear off guys and the inevitable pain of relationships, Erin focused on the moment. She was glad she’d come. Plopped in the middle of boulders, the afternoon was quiet.
A bird overhead cut the silence and Erin realized she’d finished the hummus.
“Good, eh?” Marama said, sitting up.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Mum’s chicken salad is really the best.”
“My lunch was great, I promise.”
“Roa is a complete ass. Do you have brothers?”
“Nope. I’m an only.”
“That sucks,” Marama said.
Hank jogged toward them.
“I think being an only is kind of cool,” Erin said.
“I guess. We’re five, so I don’t have a clue how it is to be just one.”
Hank grabbed an apple. “Can I have this?”
Erin caught a whiff of onion and flinched.
“What?”
“I just—wow. Did you eat a raw onion?”
“He had Mum’s chicken salad,” Marama said.
“Potent,” Erin said.
Hank cocked his head to the side. “Really sorry about your sandwich, Marama.”
“Yeah.” Marama pointed at Hank with her thumb. “Thanks to this fuckwit, I almost lost one of my brothers.”
Hank’s face fell. “Could we skip this?”
“Yeah, no,” Marama said. “Once, soon after Roa had gotten over mono, Hank convinced him that a hundred-kilometer race was within his grasp. Tangaroa had to be medevac’d off of Arthur’s Pass.”
Erin said, “You did not.”
“Roa loves cycling. And, in my defense, I knew he would regret missing the race,” Hank said. “I want everyone to have the maximally enjoyable experience.”
“Bite your bum. You dared him,” Marama said.
“And I’ve been apologizing every day since. I will never forgive myself,” Hank said before returning to his boulder.
Once Hank was out of earshot, Marama said, “We give him hell for it, but most everyone was pissed at Roa. Hank’s a work-hard-play-harder type of bloke. He said he believed in Roa. And when Hank says he believes in you, there’s something about it that makes you want to make it happen, you know?”
Erin’s cheeks flushed. “I wouldn’t really know. I just met him.” She packed what was left of the food. Thinking about the return trip made her regret scarfing down the hummus. She needed her lunch to settle before reliving those hairpin turns. “More climbing?”
“Really? You’re into it?”
“I am. I could stay here all day.”
THIRTY
Erin slid into her dining room seat at precisely 6:30. Famished, she buttered a slice of warm bread and dug into Felicity’s shepherd’s pie.
“Squeaky cheese, too!” Pippa said, her mouth full of food.
Felicity pointed to a browned slab of cheese. “Halloumi. Squeeze a bit of lemon on and try it.”
Dubious but polite, Erin pierced a slice and added lemon. The warm cheese squeaked as she chewed it. Soft and mild, it had a fibrous texture. She took a second bite.
“How was your day, then?” Felicity asked.
Effusive, Erin shared her impressions of Castle Hill and bouldering.
“Did you crawl into the tiny space under the tilted boulder?” Pippa asked.
“I did not crawl under anything.”
“Dad always dares me, but I wouldn’t want to get stuck under in an earthquake.”
“No kidding,” Erin said. “I also saw Marama’s brother, Roa, do some amazing stuff. He and Hank are like spiders; they can cling to anything.”
“Hank was there?” Felicity feigned disinterest, but her tone suggested Hank’s presence was of paramount interest.
“He was. He’s really good.”
“Explains why he canceled my lesson today,” Pippa said.
“Oh, Pippa, I’m sorry,” Erin said.
Felicity said, “It’s not you. That is a boy who chases his heart.”
“One of the best blokes I know,” Hamish said.
Erin couldn’t deny her attraction to him, but he had quit school, which was unconscionable. Hank should apply his passion for rock climbing to something important. He needed to grow up.
Erin would have Columbia. She hoped to have Columbia. And she’d be a doctor. She was going places; Hank seemed satisfied staying put.
“Nothing to say, Erin?” Hamish asked. “You don’t care for Hank?”
“We don’t have much in common. I don’t typically care for high school dropouts and I especially don’t care for people who try to tell me what to do.”
Hamish set his jaw. “Hank isn’t a dropout. And neither am I. Don’t confuse being overeducated with being smart or kind. Don’t imagine a medical degree will make you a good person. I’d choose a good person over a brilliant overeducated arsehole any day.”
“Hamish?” Felicity said.
“Excuse me!” He threw his napkin on the table and walked out the front door.
“That’s not what I meant,” Erin said, though her words had meant little else. “You know that’s not what I meant, right, Felicity?”
Pippa’s eyes were as big as quarters as Felicity drew and released several deep breaths.
“Here, Erin, school is compulsory only through age sixteen. Hamish and Hank, and our neighbor Dean, and Jade’s parents, and my brother Nick? They’re not dropouts. And they’re some of the best people we know. Our best mates.
“Staying through year thirteen or going on to university provides nothing but more schooling, which is fine if you need it. Medicine is your calling, so of course you’ll go to university and medical school. But look at the big picture: our country—any country—needs bus drivers and grocers. I find pleasure in doing good work and coming home. I don’t need a big fancy job and a big paycheck, but I need a grocer who ensures my produce is fresh. Pippa needs a bus driver who takes her to school safely. We couldn’t function without construction workers. Imagine Christchurch without rubbish collectors.”
Erin hadn’t thought of that. Everyone she knew in America—everyone!—was trying to
