The-Lucky-List-Rachael-Lippincott

now that she’s on the other end of it.
“Come on, Em!” Blake calls up to me, her head bobbing up and down as she treads water. “Don’t
look! It makes everything worse! Just step back and take a running start.”
“I don’t think I can!” I call back down to her.
“Don’t think! At all!” she calls back. “Remember the apple orchard? Trust me, if you just go,
everything will be fine. The overthinking is what will hurt you.”
“Oh, sure!” I call back to her. “Everything will be fine,” I mumble to myself, mimicking her voice as I
step back from the ledge, swaying unsteadily as I go.
I take a deep, shaky breath and put my hands on my hips, fixing my eyes on the horizon as I steady
myself.
And then I remember why I’m here. Who brought me here.
Mom. But I don’t see her as seventeen, not like I thought I would. What comes to me is those last
few weeks, holding her hand while she lay down, her eyes closed aer hours of testing, doctors poking
and prodding at her body.
I thought she had been asleep, but her voice startled me when she began to speak. “I think the
regretting is the worst part, Em,” she whispered, her weak fingers squeezing mine. “Wishing you
could’ve done more. Wishing you could’ve done all the things you wanted to do.”
I feel tears sting at my eyes, the same way they did that day.
I take a deep breath, the words she said that day settling on my chest.
If I turn back now, I know I’ll regret it. If I don’t face my fear the same way she did, if I give up on
the list, I know I’ll regret it.
“On the count of five,” I whisper, Mom’s lucky number, our lucky number.
“One.” I fix my eyes on the horizon, locking my jaw. “Two, three, four—”
Before I can even process what I’m doing, I run toward the edge of the cliff, launching myself off as I
scream out, “Five!”
e open air makes my stomach lurch, and for a glittering moment, time slows. Or maybe even
completely stops existing. I feel completely free. Weightless.
I can feel her all around me, hear her laugh, her words and her list pushing me forward.
Then… I realize I’m still falling. Still hurtling through the air.
WHAT AM I DOING?!
I begin to flail my arms wildly, desperate for my feet to meet the water, for the free fall to be over.
I hit the water hard, my legs splayed, my shins and thighs burning from the impact, an instant
wedgie shooting so far up my butt, I don’t think it will ever come out. And I can’t stop to try to pull it
out, because somehow I’m still going down, my body slicing through the water with twenty feet worth
of momentum.
Finally, I come to a stop, completely suspended. I look up to see the sunlight trickling through the
water, a sea of bubbles between me and the outside world, a steady stream of them pouring out of my
mouth and nose. I paddle my burning legs to the top, and eventually I break through the surface of the
water, grateful to be alive and all in one piece. I let out a gasp of air, coughing, the grimy taste of lake
water hitting hard in the back of my throat.
“You good?” Blake asks, swimming over to me, her fingers reaching out to lightly touch my side.