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Thomas has it all: nobility, money, the girl, and a position waiting for him at the family business. But when he thinks about the life ahead of him, he can't breathe. So he takes a gap year backpacking.
Nadia...
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"Thomas, wait!" Nadia cried, chasing Thomas up the hill, her leg muscles screaming and her stomach still full from lunch.
He stopped, turned and grinned down with jaundiced teeth.
She halted, and her head reeled. The world teeter-tottered a moment, then jolted still. Bile and nausea bubbled in her guts — she wanted to be sick. And her bloody legs felt like they were made of some gelatinous substance. Bending over, she placed her hands on her thighs and wheezed. It was the frickin' seed-spores. Fucking asthma. Allergies, altitude and inhalers were a deadly mix.
Distracted by the sound of clacking stones, Nadia glanced to her right. The slope wasn't quite a cliff, but close enough to it, and if she fell, she'd roll — hard. The bushes and grass were full of prickles, nettles and rocks, and other places were even less forgiving. A shudder rippled through her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, and peered up at Thomas. His broad shoulders moved up and down as he breathed heavily. The pullover he wore hung perfectly on his slim frame, accentuating the definition of his chest and the way his torso pointed down to — Don't go there, Nadia. She shook her head and stuck out her hand, palm up.
"More?" A chuckle trickled from his mouth as he pulled another pre-rapped parcel out of his pocket.
She took the package, chomped down and pressed on past him, for the umpteenth time regretting her decision not to purchase one of the hand-carved walking sticks.
As the subtle buzz of the coca leaves set in, a canopy of mist reached out with wispy tendrils and pulled her upwards. The tramp of Thomas's footfalls dulled to a muted echo behind her. He didn't overtake this time, but his presence fuelled her resolve to move on.
She inhaled. One, and two, and three and four. Exhaled. Five, and six, and seven and eight.
The world narrowed to the thump of feet, clattering of stones and rasps of air until the misty haze parted to reveal a red obelisk-shaped marker sprouting from a rise of compacted earth. They had done it. Reached the peak of Dead Woman's Pass. But their destination, with its view impeded by cloud, was an anticlimax.
Nadia untangled herself from her daypack and plopped on to a shelf cut into the soil.
Thomas did likewise, lounging on his elbows. "We beat them all," he said in a self-satisfied voice.
A grin erupted on her face. "Yup, we kicked arse."
"Hmm, I like your arse."
She stared at him. How much more had he chewed?
He gazed up at her through marbled eyes, his mouth pulled up on one side. Against her will, she smiled back, still giddy and smug in the satisfaction she had got to the summit first — with him.
