I’m looking down at the water below. “Oh, God,” I moan, hating this feeling.
I want to jump. I want to so badly. But every time I think I’m going to do it, I chicken out.
“God has nothing to do with it,” Alistair says, laughing at me. “This is between you and you.” He stands by me, wet and beaming with pride.
Of course, he’s been jumping off this cliff all morning. He’s done it feet first, backward, tried a flip, and finally started diving headlong into the water.
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Olympic Gold Medal himself.” I sniff and look down again. I used to jump off this very rock when I was eight years old. What happened to my courage? “I’m gonna do it, just gimme some space, will you?” I shove him to the side a little. “Back off. Let me assess this.”
“Well,” he says, stepping back. “While you
