Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

ELIJAH WAVED AT THE CROWD and dropped down from the top of his final qualifier climb. He should have been basking in the cheers that rose even before he hit the mats. This crowd knew what his score meant. They knew he hadn't just qualified for the semi-finals — he'd qualified at a higher rank than anyone had expected.

But Elijah couldn't celebrate.

He struggled not run off the stage. The moment he reached the isolation area, he veered for the medical tent. Ty was still there, lying on a cot with an arm draped over his forehead. Elijah dropped his stuff on the ground and went right to his side, heedless of the fact that he was still wearing his tight rock climbing shoes.

"How do you feel?" Elijah said .

"Shitty," Ty said with a grim chuckle.

Elijah touched his cheek and found it clammy. He was paler than usual. Ty shivered even as he sweated, despite the sheet the medics had tucked in around him.

"You need to get to bed," Elijah said. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah," Ty said.

"That is not convincing at all."

Ty peered up at Elijah. "They said I can leave when I feel okay to walk back to my room. They think it's just a stomach bug or something."

"You have a fever?"

"Yeah."

Elijah tried to smother his grimace. It could have been something Ty ate, but the fever disputed that. Whatever Ty had, it was going to run its course. And that likely meant no semi-finals or finals for Ty, who should have been one of the climbers contending for first place.

It wouldn't help to point that out now. Ty probably realized it, and if he didn't, it would only make him feel worse when he did. Instead, Elijah focused on switching to comfortable shoes, gathering up both their gear, and stuffing the items into one bag so he could sling it over his shoulder. Then he helped Ty off the cot.

Ty leaned heavily into the arm Elijah wrapped around him as they hobbled back to the hotel. More than once, he paused, sure he was going to vomit again. Fortunately his stomach had already thoroughly emptied itself. So although it took some time, they eventually made it all the way back to Elijah's room. There, Elijah got Ty back into bed after stripping off his sweaty climbing clothes.

"I stink," Ty groaned.

Elijah settled on the bed and felt his forehead. Burning hot.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "Take a shower when you can stand up for more than five minutes without puking."

"I didn't puke on the way back."

"Only because your stomach was empty." Elijah pet along Ty's sweaty face. "I'm going to go find some soup and medicine. Anything else you want?"

"No." Ty's voice was a thin croak.

"What did they tell you to take in the med tent?"

"I don't know," Ty said. "Nothing. Aspirin."

"Alright, I'll see what they have. Just stay here and rest."

He tried to rise, but Ty caught his wrist. His eyes were glassy as he gazed at Elijah.

"My coach," he said. "My coach is gonna freak out."

"I'll talk to your coach," Elijah said.

"No," Ty said. "No, I have to…"

Whatever Ty intended to insist upon died on his lips. He fell back in the bed, exhausted even from attempting to speak that much.

Elijah stroked through his hair. "You don't have to do anything but rest. Don't think about your coach or anything else. Just sleep, okay? I've got everything else handled."

"You don't understand."

"I understand that you're so sick you can barely keep your eyes open, let alone argue with me."

"But I'll … I'll let them all down."

Something more than just the illness overtook Ty's face. Even with his eyes closed, he grimaced, collapsing in on himself, battling some grief lodged much deeper than a stomach bug.

"Hey," Elijah said, softening his voice, "whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it'll be fine. Your coach can't be mad at you for getting sick. It happens. It's just a fluke."

Ty forced his eyes open. If it weren't for the glassy glaze of the sickness, Elijah would swear those eyes also shimmered with tears. He took Ty's clammy hand in his.

"Don't push yourself," he said.

"I have to," Ty said.

"You don't. It's just one comp. Your coach—"

"It's not for my coach."

Ty paused, as though the outburst had exhausted him. He squeezed Elijah's hand tighter, eyes clearing for just an instant.

"I'll let them all down," he repeated more quietly.

"Who?" Elijah said. "I can't imagine anyone being disappointed in you for getting sick one time, Ty. Who could possibly blame you for that?"

"They won't blame me," Ty said. "It's just … no one el se on that finals stage is going to look like me."

A beat of silence fell, heavy as a hammer. Elijah squeezed Ty's hand, but hesitated to speak. Ty was absolutely right. No one on that finals stage would look like him. And it wasn't at all unusual. Most of the time, Ty had to go out there and represent every Black climber trying to reach the highest levels. It was the fear they'd discussed on that mountain top the other day, the extra weight Ty carried with him on the wall every time he climbed.

In some respects, Elijah could understand. How long had he spent hiding his sexuality so he wouldn't be in the exact position Ty was in right now? When he was Ty's age, he'd felt like the pressure would be too much to bear. Thus, he'd simply never mentioned his sexuality. But that was the difference — he'd had a choice. He could fly under the radar if he wanted to; Ty never could.

What an incredibly heavy weight for such a young man to carry.

"Ty," Elijah said softly, "I can't speak for every young climber out there, and certainly not for climbers who aren't white, but I can't imagine anyone being disappointed in you. You are an incredible athlete. Every time you're out there, you're incredible to watch. And everyone knows it."

He drew Ty's hand up to kiss his knuckles. "It's one competition," he said. "It doesn't erase everything else you've ever done. No one is going to forget your accomplishments because you got sick one time. I promise. "

He wished he could say more, do more, but Elijah wasn't the right person to soothe this particular anxiety. He knew what it was like to be gay and hiding it in this sport, but he'd never know what it was like to be the only person in the room whose skin wasn't white, an all-too-common experience in climbing, even if that was changing more and more these days. There were great climbers all over the world in all shapes and colors, but that wasn't yet truly showing on stage.

Ty didn't argue. He let Elijah rise from the edge of the bed and tuck him under the sheets. But Elijah's own words rang in his head as he left the hotel room to find soup and medicine for Ty.

It doesn't erase everything else you've ever done.

Elijah had been a coward this entire time, afraid to give it his all and let down queer climbers all over the world, afraid to tarnish a legacy he'd built up in his head since his retirement. Meanwhile, Ty didn't have the luxury of being a coward. Even if he did, Elijah suspected he wouldn't back down. It was past time for Elijah to stop hiding, too.

ELIJAH ARRIVED AT the semi-finals alone. He'd found soup and medicine last night and forced them both into Ty, but Ty had managed to keep down precious little of it. He hadn't yet showered, despite spending the entire night tossing and turning and sweating. It did little to settle Elijah's nerves or help him rest up before the grueling semi-finals round, but he definitely wasn't going to mention that to Ty. He'd risen earlier than necessary, gotten himself ready, then ensured Ty ate and drank and took more medicine before he left.

He'd be back after the semi-finals, Elijah told himself now. It was only a few hours, and Ty was probably going to sleep through all of it. Maybe if Ty was feeling up for it they could come back and watch the finals together. Despite his good qualifier placement, Elijah couldn't realistically expect to get into the finals against the likes of Lukas and Jude. The younger guys had an advantage even when Elijah wasn't up all night taking care of a sick boyfriend.

He breathed out slowly, letting all those thoughts exit his body alongside his breath. One thing at a time. Right now, he had to finish warming up. Besides, he'd promised himself after that conversation with Ty that he wouldn't hold back anymore. He'd give this his all. No more hiding. No more blaming his age. Ty didn't get to hide when he was on this stage; the least Elijah could do was give it his all this one time. Whether he climbed without reservation or not, the result was likely the same.

The mood in the isolation area shifted. A buzz suffused the room, like static crackling in the air the moment before lightning struck. The judges called all the climbers out for their brief observation period. They couldn't get on the climbs, but they could touch the starting holds and size up the problems.

Elijah did his best to focus on the plastic before him, mentally running through strategies for the tougher moves. Hopefully, he'd hold onto those strategies when he came back out to actually climb.

"He's still sick?" Jude said, sliding up next to Elijah.

They kept their voices low, putting their heads together like they were talking about the climbs.

"Yeah, he wasn't looking too great this morning."

"Shit, man," Jude said. "That sucks."

"He'll recover. It's only one comp."

"For sure," Jude said, "but the team just kind of likes having him around, you know? He can really lighten the mood right before a comp. I'll definitely miss him in isolation today."

Elijah stopped pretending to analyze the climbs to pat Jude on the shoulder. "We'll manage. And if he can leave the room for long enough, I'll make sure we're both cheering you on in the finals."

"If you're not in the finals yourself," Jude said.

The judges called them away from the climbs and back into isolation, sparing Elijah from having to respond to that. He didn't want to get his hopes up too high when so much weighed against him today. Jude was probably just being nice, anyway.

They didn't need to wait long in isolation before the judges started calling out the lowest ranked climbers. Normally, Elijah would be bracing to hear his name, but today he'd have to wait longer. He'd made it into the top half of climbers somehow. That in itself was something worth being proud of, something he'd hang onto well after this competition was over.

As promised, he stayed with Jude during the wait. They tried to chat to keep the nerves at bay while doing simple things to keep their muscles warm but not overly so. Then it was time for Elijah to squeeze into his shoes and prepare to actually climb.

The first problem of the semi-finals presented Elijah with a tricky, delicate balance that traversed a short distance across the wall, then went upward to a finish hold. Not Elijah's style at all, but he approached it with a strange lack of apprehension. It's only one comp. It doesn't erase everything else you've ever done.

With his own words chiming in his head, he settled himself on the starting holds. He expected to wobble when he picked his foot up off a chip the size of a quarter, but his body held steady, letting him reach the next minuscule chip. Elijah placed the side of his toe on the plastic, testing if it would hold when he put his weight on it. So far, so good.

He took a chance, moving his weight from the safer starting foot onto the riskier foot out to his right — and it held. Elijah stood, lifting himself slightly. He'd have to step past his own body to continue, but he pressed his hands against the wall and tested it. He had nothing to hold onto, nothing to grip, nothing to keep him from tilting backward, just the gritty friction of the artificial climbing wall.

But he wasn't falling. He wasn't losing his balance. He just … kept going.

Elijah hardly breathed as he moved across the wall. It felt like a deep inhale could push his weight too far backward and knock him to the ground. Then, at last, his hand touched a plastic hold.

It wasn't much, but after all that space with nothing but foot chips, it was like a ladder rung. Elijah curled his fingers around it and pulled. And suddenly he was moving upward. He let out that held breath, reached … and touched the hold marked "top."

Elijah floated at the top of that climb, hanging off of one arm, weightless. A flash. He'd started his semi-finals with a flash. One attempt, one top. That was as good as it got.

He returned to the mats to greet the wave of cheers awaiting him. Elijah could barely process the sound. His own astonishment still sang through his body, overwhelming all else.

If only Ty could see this.

It was fine. They'd rewatch the stream together, or at least this climb. Lying in bed with Ty and getting to show off this problem would be Elijah's reward for earning that flash.

Jude looked up when Elijah re-entered the isolation area. "That was fast," he said.

Elijah just smiled. He could confirm Jude's suspicions outright, but everyone knew why Elijah had returned so quickly. It was one of the subtle mind games that went on during these competitions. You couldn't see what was going on outside of the isolation area, but you could hear it. And any time someone returned in a minute or less, it was a pretty sure bet they'd just flashed a climb.

Elijah sat and tried to calm himself before the next climb. It was tough with victory zinging through his veins. He focused on stilling himself before the excitement got the better of him.

He thought he'd gotten himself mostly under control by the time he went out for his second climb. It presented a more straightforward challenge than the first balance problem, but Elijah needed a few attempts to reach the top. He was still too psyched from the first climb to focus adequately on the second one. Still, not a bad start at all, especially for a guy who wouldn't be in the finals.

The top climbers had to be walking up all of these climbs if Elijah was having such a good time with them. Even the third climb didn't completely defeat him, though he failed to reach the top. He still walked away with some points thanks to zone holds.

It was a respectable showing, all things considered. A flash, a top, and some partial credit. At worst, he'd improve on his score from Seoul and walk away from his impromptu return to competition climbing with his head held high. And that was something to be proud of. Maybe he was a washed up old climber, but unlike the first time he retired, this time he'd go out entirely on his own terms, knowing exactly who he was and where he stood — and not hiding any of that from the rest of the world.

The judges called him out for his final climb. The very last one of the semi-finals — and his career. He never envisioned it wrapping up this way, but in some respects this was better than his first try at hanging up his climbing shoes. He was out this time, for one thing. Despite how slow he'd been to officially confirm that, hopefully this final performance would make up for it.

The moment he saw the final climb, all his hopes evaporated.

It started out fine, but right there in the middle lurked a conspicuous span of empty space. The holds abruptly ended, resuming back near the top of the climb.

A dyno. A damn jump right there in the middle of the climb. Just when Elijah thought this was going so well.

He huffed out a breath. He wouldn't let that dynamic jump deter him. What would Ty do if it was him on these mats instead of Elijah? Wind himself up and fly over that gap, probably. Elijah wasn't that kind of climber. No one would describe him as springy. But he could cross that gap, he knew he could. He just had to try.

Elijah chalked up his hands and got onto the climb. The start offered him comfortable holds and powerful moves, exactly the style of climbing Elijah liked best.

Then he reached that gap, that horrible empty space between himself and the next hold. He planted his feet on a sloping triangle feature jutting out from the wall. It wasn't a great platform to jump off of thanks to that downward slope. To make matters worse, Elijah gripped tiny crimp handholds, limiting how hard he could pull.

With little choice in the matter, Elijah gripped those holds and braced his feet, rocking from side-to-side a bit to build momentum. But he didn't believe he'd catch the next hold even before he launched into the air, and his pessimism brought him back down to the mats empty-handed.

The second time he tried the jump, his hand brushed against the plastic hold he needed to reach.

A burst of adrenaline flooded his body as he returned to the ground. He'd nearly made it. He'd actually touched the hold. If he just went for it, tossed aside inhibition and doubt, threw everything he had into one huge jump … he might actually make it.

Holy shit.

Elijah gave himself a moment to calm his racing heart. He wouldn't catch the hold if he got too hyped up before he even tried the jump. He forced himself to stand still and breathe, glancing to the side of the stage to check on his time. Still two minutes. Plenty of time to finish this.

Elijah got back on the climb. The moment he touched the familiar starting holds, all the jittery energy vanished. His focus narrowed to the climb before him, to each individual move and what his body needed to do to execute them.

He reached the jump, set his feet, started swinging his weight side-to-side. No doubt. No hesitation. Just do it the way Ty would. If Ty was here instead of sick in bed, he wouldn't let pessimism drag him down for even a second. Despite the tremendous pressure he carried with him into every competition, Ty would soar off this slopey platform and grab the next hold with perfect confidence.

The least Elijah could do today was emulate him.

He swung, throwing his momentum sideways and upward. His hands and feet came off the holds, leaving his entire body suspended in the air.

Then his hands slapped down onto plastic.

Elijah's fingers curled on instinct. His body swung past his arms, carrying the momentum, trying to rip him off the wall. Not today. This was the part he was good at, the part he'd been good at for most of his life. He gripped the hold hard, refusing to let it go, digging deep to find some extra well of determination.

He stayed on the wall.

The cheers of the crowd rang dimly somewhere outside him. Elijah's head was too full of his own astonishment to make space for the spectators' cries as well.

He scrambled to get his feet onto something, nearly falling off as he fumbled and flailed. The adrenaline alone almost ripped him off the wall. He hurried to complete the climb before it could get the best of him.

At the top, Elijah hung from one arm and waved at the crowd. They responded with a deafening roar. Maybe they were just happy to see him do decently in the semi-finals, he thought — until he finally got a look at the scoreboard.

First.

Elijah Reed was in first place.

He sat in the area beside the stage that was reserved for climbers who'd finished their round. His mouth hung open. His hands went numb and tingly as he struggled to peel his shoes off.

First.

It wouldn't last. It couldn't last. The best climbers were still yet to finish their round. But if only a couple of them didn't do better than him…

He dared not think about it at first. That thought was too precious, too fragile. It was a soap bubble balanced on his palm, delicate, thin as air, so tenuous a single stray breath could destroy it.

But the more climbers finished, the more Elijah stayed in first. When he finally started slipping down the rankings, it was too late. They could push him down to sixth place, but they couldn't eliminate him.

Elijah Reed was going to the finals.