January 14, 2015
If it wasn't already gone, there were some days Furiosa would have gladly given her fucking arm not to have to listen to the over-ripe inanity of her co-workers' daily arguments.
"They're ascendin' Dawn Wall, Slit, Dawn Wall. It's bleedin' historic, ain't it?"
"Five days off schedule. A hundred monkeys writing Shakespeare could free climb it if they had enough time."
"But they haven't – that's the whole point. No one's ever done it –"
"Look, Nux, if you want to stay in the kiddie pool, fine, worship at the Caldwell and Jorgeson altar all you want. When you feel like playing in the big leagues, we can talk about Honnold. There's someone to hang your fuckin' hat on. Speed-climbed the Nose in under two-twenty five. The man's a beast –"
"Do you think you both could just be quiet for a goddamn minute?" Furiosa asked, sighing. She had already dropped her forehead into her right hand, and now she leaned the rest of her body against the front desk. Hopefully, no members would come in and realize that she had clearly lost the will to live.
"C'mon, Furiosa," Nux said, bright puppy-dog eagerness returning to his voice. "They've been live-tweeting it all afternoon." He pulled his iPhone out of the front pocket of his cargo pants and started scrolling. "I can't wait to see the pictures on Instagram." He turned the screen towards her, as if to share what he had found, but then took one look at her face and pulled it back.
"Instagram?" Slit scoffed. "Fuck, you sound like my grandma." He swiveled around the two of them, and headed towards the back of the gym. "I'm gonna go work on my grips."
With Slit gone, Nux leaned against the desk next to Furiosa, happily occupied with his phone. He was still too close to her – she would prefer that most people keep outside a two-mile radius – but at least he was blissfully quiet now. She closed her eyes, hearing only the low-level electronic dance music being pumped through the gym's sound system.
He wasn't that bad, she had to admit, just too young and excitable, too prone towards insecurity in the face of the other guys' rampant ego-based posturing. But that was something he was just going to have to learn to get over – or, sadly enough, start to emulate. Bravado and bluster was just all too common in the climbing world. These were people who spent their free time hanging off of mountains, for fuck's sake; they were bound to be pretty full of themselves. Nux was the newest hire, just two weeks on the job, and as such bore the brunt of the rest of the staff's testosterone-fueled aggression.
"Don't forget you're shadowing me for that private lesson at six," she told him. "I'll be instructing, but you can belay."
"How many in the group?" he asked.
"Five. All newbies. When they come in, help me get them set up with gear." She looked around; it seemed pretty quiet. "While we're waiting, why don't you go do a safety check on the floor?" As hints went, it was pretty subtle, but he took it, stepping away from the desk and heading off into the main part of the gym, looking to make sure all the climbers were tying themselves in correctly.
Most of the regular after-work crew were here already, including Furiosa's secret favorites, a group of seven women of varying ages who showed up together and kept to themselves as they climbed. Over the ten months she had been working here, she had watched them steadily progress in skill, moving from beginner-intermediate 5.9 climbs to the greater challenges of 5.10s, one of the younger ones in the group cleanly completing a 5.11a just last week. She liked that they were quiet about it, with none of the bare-chested flashiness of a lot of the guys who showed up here, and they seemed to enjoy working together, giving each other tips and pointers once they finished a climb. In her head, she liked to refer to them as the Amazons.
She was glad they hadn't been scared off by the guys, even though occasionally they had to deal with a dumb asshole who thought one of the younger women might fall for some ridiculous come-on. Aside from the general behavior of her co-workers, one of Furiosa's other problems with this gym was the fact that it seemed to be disproportionately populated with major-league tools, guys who couldn't tell a cam from a biner but who thought that by preening around and displaying their pecs they would be met with universal adulation. Every gym had a feel to it, and too often this one gave off vibes of douchebag and Drakkar Noir.
A lot of that, she knew, started at the top. The owner, Joe, and his son, Rick, who also served as the manager – when he bothered to show up – clearly saw this place as investment that continued to pay dividends, if those dividends consisted mostly of opportunities to gratuitously ogle spandex-clad women. She wouldn't be surprised if those fucks had installed spy cams in the women's locker room. That was one reason why, no matter how late she was running, she always made sure to change at home.
It probably didn't matter all that much, though. With her shaved head, she knew most of the other guys on staff assumed she was a lesbian and so left her out of their own collective appraisal of female anatomy. It didn't stop them from making all sorts of disgusting comments when she was around, as if she were invisible, like a piece of furniture. Aside from Ace, the other climbing instructor, and Nux, who didn't know any better yet, she wouldn't mind meeting the lot of them with the rough end of a cattle prod on some bright, sunny day.
The thing was, she wasn't a lesbian. She just had ceased to give a fuck, not just about men, but about much of anything at all. As of fifteen months ago yesterday, there didn't really seem to be much worth giving a fuck about.
Fifteen months, and there was still a box in her closet where she kept the boarding pass stub from her flight to Salt Lake City. Where she kept the ivory Arc'teryx windbreaker with the precise slices up the side and along the sleeve, triage cuts bisecting smears of faded dark brown. Where she kept the bill from her goddamn insurance company that ran multiple pages, and included, among other gems, the eye-droppingly expensive medevac charges. She had argued a lot over that bill. They ended up paying most of it.
It had been a beautiful day – of course, most October days in Moab were beautiful – and she had been so ridiculously excited. There was a crack climb she had been itching to try, a solid 5.11 with several pitches, one that would bring her up to the top of the butte and offer a brilliant view of the red and yellow landscape beyond. Everything had been textbook, until right past the crux on the second pitch. Perhaps she had been overconfident, or hadn't been paying enough attention, or maybe she just got unlucky. Her left hand and wrist had been wedged tight in the crack, keeping her balanced while she reached with her right, and then her footing was all wrong and she was scrambling to keep her feet against the rock wall, and suddenly she was falling, and all she could think about was the slack in the lead line and how it ought to have been catching her by this point. Her left hand just wasn't coming free and she could feel the bones in it begin to snap, skin and ligaments tearing, and all of it making the most god-awful sound that she could hear even as she blacked out.
She had woken up in a hospital bed, her mind foggy with painkillers, and even though she could have sworn she felt both sets of fingers crimping into the stiff cotton sheets, when she looked down, she could only see one. For a while, she had just stared, in complete disbelief. Then she had screamed. And then she had cried.
They tried to console her. They kept telling her it would get better. Just keep up with your physical therapy, they said. Don't be afraid to talk about how you're feeling. Only take the pills when you really need them.
Yeah, fuck all that.
There was even talk of a prosthesis as some point, as if that was the solution to all her problems, but none of the doctors seemed to understand that even the most powerful mechanized arm wouldn't keep a grip on a sliver of rock, wouldn't hold her full weight in her attempts to maneuver her body upwards.
So after eight weeks of being shut up in her apartment, feeling constrained and smothered by everything, feeling like she couldn't breathe any more, she went down to her local climbing gym to test the waters. It was pathetic: she had lost so much strength, and the pills had made her so weak. After the first fall, on a climb she could have done in her sleep before the accident, she got up and tried again. After the second fall, all her pride in rough tatters, she got up and tried again. After the third fall, she clumsily unbuckled her harness on the way out the front door and never went back. It was that day, the day she realized she would probably never climb again, that she stopped at the store for an electric razor and then buzzed off all her hair into the bathroom sink.
And even after moving half-way across the country, searching for a place with no memories, the only job she could find that she was remotely qualified for was in this gym, teaching people how to do something she couldn't even do herself. What was that old saying? "Those that can, do. Those that can't, teach…"? How fucking bitter was that? But in her case, it seemed to be sadly true.
The front doors opened widely – she glanced up at the clock and noted that it was six on the nose – and in walked five women, all of differing heights and hair colors. They were chatting happily with each other as they came inside, and Furiosa couldn't help but stare.
They were all so beautiful. And so skinny. But what they lacked in upper body strength they made up for in cheekbones. She was so glad Joe and Rick weren't here. They would never have let these five escape.
"Angharad?" she asked. All she knew was the name of the woman who had scheduled the appointment.
"That's me," said one of the taller ones, a willowy blonde with a face that surely had made grown men cry. It was only after a second that Furiosa saw that she was several months pregnant.
She approached the front desk with the other women trailing behind, noticing that Furiosa's gaze was focused on her stomach. "It's okay, right?" she asked, curling one of her arms around her protruding belly. "To be honest, I had kind of forgotten about it when I booked the lesson."
Angharad's briefly gaze shifted over, and Furiosa could tell that she was looking at her left arm, or what remained of it. She quickly glanced back at her face and said nothing, and for that Furiosa was grateful. If there was anything she couldn't stand, it was pity.
"Uh, yeah," Furiosa responded, taking a moment to catch a glimpse at the four women standing behind her, a redhead, two brunettes, one with short hair and one with long, and a blonde so pale she looked almost alien. "I think we've got a full-body harness in the back somewhere. As long as you feel comfortable…"
"I had always wanted to try this," Angharad said, smiling. "Guess it's good to do it now, before I get much bigger."
Furiosa nodded. "So let's have you all sign the waivers and then we'll worry about gear. You'll all need harnesses and shoes. You can probably share a chalk bag."
She was getting them set up with the paperwork when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the front door open again. She had her hands full with the women, and of course Nux and Slit were nowhere to be found.
"Welcome to Citadel Rock Climbing," she said as the figure approached the desk, her attention still focused on the sheets of paper in her hands. "Are you a member?"
"Um, no," she heard, even though the words were more of a growl than anything else. "Drop-in."
She looked up, losing herself for a moment in a pair of hooded blue-gray eyes. It was strange, she immediately thought, how they managed to look so intense yet so lost at the same time. Taking in the rest of his face, she noticed that he was a bit scruffy around the jaw and he looked like he gave himself haircuts at home with a pair of garden shears, but his mouth… fuck, his mouth. His lips were so full, almost feminine, but hell if wasn't working for him. She could drown in that mouth. Shit, in her old life, she could have happily taken him home and climbed him like a tree.
"Uh, you'll… you'll need to sign the waiver," she stammered. Goddamn it, what was wrong with her? She needed to get a hold of herself.
"Did it last time," he said, half-mumbling. Was that an Australian accent? And when was he here before? It took her a second to realize he must have come in on one of her days off.
"Do you need to rent any gear?" she asked.
With one hand, he held up a chalk bag and a pair of lace-up La Sportiva shoes. No harness, she noted. Figured that he'd be a bouldering guy.
"Day pass is fifteen –" The words stopped in her throat as he slid a ten and a five across the desk.
"Well, uh, enjoy your climb," she said, and watched as he gave her a tiny nod before he walked off.
She made a mental note to check the waiver book when she got a free minute; she wouldn't mind having a name to go along with that face.
The women had finished filling out all the paperwork by the time Nux finally reappeared, so she had him start pulling shoes for them to try on. Furiosa went to the equipment room in the back to see if she could find the full-body harness for Angharad, and when she returned she could see Nux helping the redhead – sweet-faced, her hair in braided plaits – with her harness, adjusting the straps for her and pulling them tight. She smiled at him and he blushed wildly, his pale skin turning red like a stoplight.
Furiosa was able to help the others with their harnesses, Angharad needing a little more assistance in getting the straps around her shoulders and belly, but soon enough they were all ready.
"Are the shoes supposed to be this tight?" asked the long-haired brunette. Furiosa looked down to see that she was tensing and flexing her feet in some attempt to stretch out the leather of the shoe.
"Yeah, it helps keep you gripped to the holds. But the soles are stiff so you can stand on the edge of your toes." The girl didn't look that convinced. "You won't notice after a while," Furiosa added.
She quickly grabbed her wide black bandana – a tradition from her climbing days, even if she was no longer working up anything resembling a sweat while she remained firmly on the ground – and slipped it over her forehead.
They started on the beginner's wall, and after introductions all around, she gave them the basics on movement – keep your arms long, step deliberately, push up with the legs rather than pulling with the arms – before she decided they had listened long enough and it was time for them to put what they'd learned into practice.
"Who's first?" she asked.
"I'll go," said the brunette with the close-cropped hair – her name was Toast, Furiosa recalled – and she stepped forward towards the wall. She was a little shorter than the others, with beautiful mocha-colored skin.
"Okay, so Nux is going to help get you tied in," Furiosa said. "You can see there are two ropes…" – she pointed up to the top of the route, where a rope was looped around a protruding bar forty feet up, with the two ends falling on the ground – "…and you tie in to the one closest to the wall. When Nux belays you – that means he's going to pull the rope and keep it taut as you go up, so if you fall you don't go very far – he's going to use the farther rope. Make sense?"
Toast nodded. Nux hopped over to her side, showing her how the rope was tied to her harness, with a double-backed figure eight and then a safety knot above.
As they were occupied, Furiosa cast a glance over towards the bouldering wall. Not surprisingly, tonight it was bro central, with at least a dozen shirtless guys who were no doubt spending long stretches of time standing around, pretending like they were trying to work out a route in their head, but really just preening for anyone who was watching. Eventually, they would actually have to go up the wall, although they tended to pick routes that they weren't really ready for and fell off after about thirty seconds.
She saw Mr. Down Under starting a V1 route, and a small part of her was pleased to see that he hadn't followed the rest of the crowd by taking off his shirt. He was wearing a supportive knee brace – she wasn't sure how she had managed to miss that before – and for a second she wondered about his injury, what might have caused it. It probably would keep him from doing anything that challenging; it was possible that he might not even make it through the V1.
With both hands on the starting hold, he pushed himself up, and after taking an easy traverse to the right, he reached up for the next hold. It was tiny, though – a nub that only allowed him to place a few fingers – and she saw him struggle to keep it. His right leg lifted, searching for the nearest foothold, and then his other leg – the one with the brace – began to buckle slightly. His grip on the wall was clearly slipping. And just like that, with a great air-filled smacking sound, he collapsed onto the crash pads four feet below.
She turned back towards her group, a little saddened but not particularly surprised. It was hard to come back from injuries. And sometimes, she thought resentfully, you didn't come back at all.
Toast was now completely tied in, and Furiosa grabbed the chalk bag on the ground and offered it to her, explaining how the chalk would keep her hands from slipping on the holds.
"So before you go up," Furiosa said, speaking to the group, "you've got to remember the starting commands. These are just to make sure everyone's ready and safe. Toast, you're going to yell to Nux, 'On belay,' just to make sure the belay set-up is on and he's ready to go." She paused, and then nodded to Toast.
"On belay…?" Toast said, with a note of hesitancy.
"And then Nux will respond –"
"Belay on," he said.
"Okay, that means Toast is going to approach the wall and put her hands on the first hold. It's usually marked where to start." Furiosa watched as she put her chalk-covered hands on the nearest green plastic knob bolted to the wall. "And she's going to give the next command, 'Climbing,' which means she's ready to start."
"Climbing," Toast said, this time with more excitement.
"And then Nux –"
"Climb on," he said, grinning madly.
"So now you go," Furiosa said.
Toast turned her head back. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," Furiosa replied.
"Okay," said Toast, turning back towards the wall and fixing it with an eye of determination. "Here goes nothing."
She was awkward at first, like she didn't know quite where her arms and legs were, but as she started moving, it started to come much more naturally. Furiosa only had to give her a few pointers – just reminders, really – as she started to move up the wall, at first ten, then twenty feet off the ground. At one point, though, she reached for a hold, but found that her fingers couldn't quite touch it.
"It's too far," Toast yelled down. "What do I do?"
"Turn that same hip into the wall and then reach," Furiosa yelled back.
For a second, Furiosa thought that she hadn't heard her, but then she watched as Toast swiveled her pelvis inward, the angle of rotation allowing her to lift her shoulders higher and grasp the hold with the tips of her fingers.
"Well done," she yelled up to Toast, who was grinning with pride.
It struck suddenly, that feeling of a knife slicing into her heart. It cut deep to remember what it had been like, all those little victories, when she felt strong and powerful and full of grace as she ascended up the rock, her muscles straining but never surrendering, her eyes clear and her body and mind working in perfect synchronicity. That was one of the things she had loved best about climbing, the combination of physical and mental demands. As if you had to solve a puzzle, only to realize that you were the puzzle.
God, what she wouldn't give to feel that way again.
Sometimes she wondered why she bothered with this job at all, when it brought back these kinds of memories, like getting a nasty bruise on the same spot over and over again. But what else could she do? Even now, a step removed from it, there was nothing she knew so well as climbing, nothing she felt so primally tied to. It was like a first love: you could never really walk away.
There were times she tried to convince herself that it was enough to help other people discover that they loved it too, to get to watch them grow in their own sense of themselves, the capacity of their own bodies. Who was she kidding, though? It was something, but it would never be enough.
Toast was moving now, her hands strong and feet light, and even as she slowed through difficult sections, Furiosa could watch her brain working, trying to piece together the next move. When she finally reached the top, she gave a little fist pump and all the other women cheered.
Nux let the rope slide through his fingers, slowly lowering her to the ground, and she landed with a soft thud.
"How was it?" Furiosa asked.
"That was awesome," Toast replied, a light sheen of sweat across her forehead. "It was a little tricky there, near the middle. I wasn't quite sure where to go."
"So that part was the crux. That's what we call the hardest part of the climb. That's normally where people struggle the most, where they're most likely to fall. But the important part, right, is to keep going. You did great, though." Furiosa looked back at the four other women. "Who's up next?"
The rest took their turns going up, first Capable, then Dag and Cheedo, and finally Angharad. She was a little worried about Angharad – even though she had watched pregnant women climb a few times, she had never instructed one – but she seemed to sense when to shy her belly away from the wall and the protruding holds as she moved. There was just one moment, as she was nearly at the top, when she turned and smacked her shin right into a big handhold, making a noise even Furiosa could hear from the ground. By the time she got down, the bruise had already turned a pale shade of blue.
"How does it feel?" Furiosa asked, jutting her head towards Angharad's leg.
"It hurts," she replied, carefully bending down to rub it, but smiling all the same.
"Welcome to climbing," Furiosa said, smiling back. "Here, everything hurts."
Now that they had all gone up once, she wanted to move them down the wall to a slightly more difficult route, just so they could keep working on their skills. As they were walking, she noticed that there was a crowd milling around by the bouldering wall, bigger than normal. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she felt like she should go check to make sure everything was fine.
"Get them started on that 5.6," she said to Nux, pointing towards a nice beginner's route she had set last week. "Mother's Milk." Naming the routes was one of her favorite parts of setting them.
As she walked over, she could see that the crowd was even bigger than she had thought. There were at least a couple dozen people standing around, some in harnesses, which meant that people had left the climbing wall to come and watch. Even the Amazons were here, whispering softly to each other, but keeping their eyes on the fifteen-foot high wall.
Furiosa swiveled her gaze and realized what they were all looking at. Fuck, it was him. He was at the beginning of a route, about three feet up, but it was right before the wall turned into a massive overhang, a nearly horizontal roof that forced the climber to cling on upside down as they moved through it. She knew this route: it was a V8, the hardest one they had here, and she would know, because she had set it. The Interceptor, she had called it. She didn't understand; he had slipped and fallen off a V1. What made him think he could even attempt this one?
But he was somehow hanging upside down, cupping his hand around the first hold of the roof, a deep jug that allowed him enough of a grip to take another step. He was favoring his uninjured leg, she could tell, but that didn't stop him from wedging his left foot against the stem of a mushroom-shaped hold, executing a beautiful heel-toe hook whereby the two parts of his foot were jammed tight against the roof and the hold, which kept his footing steady. He was keeping his hips close to the roof, his arms long as he stretched and turned inward, reaching for the next hold, and then the next, moving calmly and fluidly, like water flowing around a stone. And then finally he was turning around the edge, maneuvering upwards, bringing his right heel up against a hold near his waist and pushing up until he had lifted himself to the vertical slab.
The thing was, that wasn't the crux. She knew what was coming, and he did too, apparently, as he moved up into the next set of holds and slowed, and then began to subtly bounce on the balls of his feet. He was prepping for a dyno, a jump that would propel him upwards and allow him to grab the next hold. Without the dyno, he could never have reached it, not unless he was eight feet tall.
She could feel her breath catching in her throat. And then, one explosive second later, he was suspended in the air, his arm extending, barely catching the edge of the hold with the tips of his fingers. He swung for a moment, and then quickly stabilized himself, finding holds for his feet and his other hand. She felt her face spontaneously lighting up in a giant grin. It was stupid, but she couldn't help it.
After that, the rest of the route would be as easy as breathing. There were a couple slightly tricky holds, some crimps that required tight pressure on the tips of the fingers and the thumb, but once past them, he topped out, quickly propelling himself over the edge of the wall. There was a ledge behind that led to a walkway down, and after a moment he emerged back on the floor, instantly met with a general assortment of slaps on the back and congratulations from several of the spectators. He didn't stay to chat, though, just nodded and tightened his mouth in acknowledgment before he walked away and moved over towards a less-populated section of the wall.
The show clearly over, the crowd began to dissipate, and Furiosa remembered that she needed to return to her group. All of them eventually got a chance to climb the second route, although both Cheedo and Dag fell a few times on their way up. The rest of the lesson wrapped up fairly uneventfully. They had all clearly enjoyed themselves, and before they left, Capable had even pulled her aside afterwards to see if she could schedule a one-on-one session with Nux.
She was back at the front desk again, sliding off her bandana, when Nux came over, jumping around excitedly even as his eyes were glued to his phone.
"They did it!" he cried. "They made it all the way up!"
"What?" Furiosa asked, mostly in confusion.
"Dawn Wall! Caldwell and Jorgeson! They've got all the photos up now…" He waved his phone around, as if he somehow thought she could see what was on it.
"Yeah," she said wearily. "That's great." At this point in the evening, she didn't even have it in her to fake enthusiasm.
"Oh, what a day," Nux murmured as he scrolled his finger along the screen. "What a lovely day…"
She was about to rest her forehead in the cradle of her hand again when she looked up and felt her lungs slam against her ribs. The bouldering guy was walking by the front desk, clearly finished for the evening, his shoes and chalk bag draped over his shoulder, a look of tired satisfaction on his face. He was halfway to the door, and before she even realized what she was doing, she heard herself speaking.
"That was nice work," she said. "On that V8."
He stopped and turned towards her, his face clouding, looking for a moment as if he didn't quite understand the words that she was saying, but then he took a few steps closer to the desk. He didn't say anything – maybe he just didn't know how to respond to the compliment? – and she wasn't sure what to do, if she should keep talking or just wait for him to say something.
"It's a rough route," she finally said. "I know. I set it."
He canted his head slightly, light catching in his eyes. "You climb much?" he asked, his accent a little more defined.
"Uh, no," she replied, willing herself not to glance down at her arm. "Not really. Not for a while."
"That's too bad," he said. Something crossed his face, not pity or even condescension, but perhaps curiosity and a hint of provocation.
She had almost forgotten that Nux was there at all, but, of course, he chose this moment to look up from his phone and insert himself into the conversation.
"Y'know," he said, "I was watchin' this video on Climbing Narc – they had a woman on there who was born without a hand, and she was doin' all kinds of sport climbs, crack climbs even…"
Furiosa could have killed him. She was filled with a blinding desire to take that phone and smash it into his face so that he could never utter another fucking word. She had never talked about the accident with her co-workers, and most of them knew enough by now not to mention her arm. And she couldn't believe that he was doing it in front of this guy, of all people.
"Nux –" she started, her voice flinty, full of warning.
"You just need a good partner to help you work through it, get you started," Nux replied excitedly, looking over at her. He swiveled his head, his gaze now focused on the guy, and as he turned his head back and forth between the two of them, it was almost if she could see the idea forming in his brain, his boyish face switching on like a lightbulb. Shit, she had to stop this before it went anywhere further. She could only hope the guy hadn't figured out what was going on.
"I'm sure he's busy," she quietly hissed to Nux, praying only he could hear her.
"Aw, c'mon, Furiosa…" said Nux.
And then, out of the quiet, she heard him, that distinctive half-growl. "I'm not, actually… that busy." Furiosa looked over at him again, watching him watch her. "I just moved here…" He paused for a moment. "If you want, we could meet up this week."
She froze for a second, not really being able to pinpoint the steps that had gotten her to this moment. Was he really offering to partner with her? He didn't even know her. And he certainly didn't have the first clue as to how to try to help her climb one-handed, regardless of anything that could be learned from Nux's stupid internet videos.
But she glanced down at the brace on his leg, thinking about how he had been able to tackle that V8 route. He had clearly figured out some way to work around his own injury. And it was obvious he knew what he was doing when it came to climbing.
But did she even want to try to climb again? In her mind, that door had swung shut, and it might be too hard – in so many ways – to try to open it, even with the help of someone she trusted. Seriously, though, what made her think she could trust him? Why was she even thinking about this? How could this guy, standing there with his bad haircut and his leg brace and his knowing eyes, possibly be filling her with just the tiniest sliver of hope?
That kind of hope was dangerous. It was probably a mistake.
"Um, okay," she said slowly, and then she caught a glimpse of Nux, his eyes wide, bobbing his head with barely contained excitement. "Friday –" she continued, half-coughing as her breath caught in her throat. "Does Friday work?"
He nodded, his mouth pursing in silent agreement.
"Great," she said. "So, uh, what's your name?"
"Max," he said. "My name is Max." He said it cautiously, rolling it around in his mouth, like he wasn't used to saying it very often. But it was a good name, she decided. It suited him.
"Okay, see you Friday. Around six?"
He nodded again and then unceremoniously swiveled back towards the front door. And just as quickly, he was gone, leaving Furiosa standing behind the desk, still wondering exactly what had happened. She couldn't even look at Nux, even though she just knew he had to be grinning six ways to Sunday.
"Stop smiling, you idiot," she said.
To his credit, he busied himself in his phone again, smart enough not to say anything in the face of her obvious ire. After a little while, though, she sighed, feeling slightly guilty. She knew that, in his mind, he had only been trying to help, although being Nux, he had only been able to in that incredibly ham-handed, dumbass, little-boy way of his.
"You still looking at those Instagram photos?" she said, rolling her eyes even as she beckoned him towards the desk. "Let me see…"
A/N: So part of me was fascinated by the idea of putting these characters in a modern AU setting, so I wanted to try my hand at it. (Hopefully, it worked and I didn't get too technical/not technical enough!) I also was really interested in how Furiosa would have been as a character in the (somewhat) immediate aftermath of losing part of her arm, because in the movie, they seem to imply that a fair amount of time had passed. And thanks to Miller et al., we're all about "engage to heal," right? :) On a more minor note, the Caldwell/Jorgeson free-climbing ascent of Dawn Wall (a portion of El Capitan in Yosemite) is a totally real thing that happened last January - and I think Nux is right to be super excited about it!