Well, at least the lounge room is tidy now. I've folded the blankets, and put all the cushions up on the couch again. I think I've earned a break, so I flop down on the couch. There's a quiet knock at the door. Of course, right when I sit down. I groan, getting up from the couch. I shout upstairs as I head for the door.

"Joan, Tina's here."

"Hi miss Bergman." Tina smiles at me.

We both stare at the stairs when heavy footsteps thunder down them and what sounds like someone bouncing off a wall. Joan lands at the bottom of the stairs, hair still flying sideways from the loose ponytail she's gathered it in to. I can see one of her straps through the collar of a t-shirt she's clearly just put on to answer the door. I shake my head and facepalm.

"Seriously?" It's like she doesn't realise what's going on right now. She looks down at the shirt, then back up at us. "Oh. I was just about to get in the shower. Do we have time?"

Tina pulls out her phone and checks something. "Sure. Just don't be too long, okay?" She looks at me. "I guess I'll be waiting down here with your mom."

I wave her in and close the door behind her. "No sense in just standing around out there. You want something to eat while you wait?"

"Nah, I'm fine—oh, anything to drink?"

"Hot or cold?" I'm deciding whether or not I need to get off the couch.

"Water's fine."

"You remember where everything is?" Yes, I'm lazy, but Tina has been here before a few times. More than a few times, in fact.

"Don't remember half of my own kitchen these days."

"I'll show you then," another thought occurs to me as I grab a glass for her. "So, how's your mom doing?"

"I think she's okay. She was really, totally pissed at my dad for a long time. When she thought I wasn't listening she used a lot of words she thinks I shouldn't know to describe him. I think it's weird she's never been sad about it, because they were together for a long time. Maybe what dad did was just… I don't know, miss Bergman, but I still think my mom's okay these days. Less angry. Worried about getting a house closer to work and stuff, but I think that's adult stuff."

"It is," I hand her the glass, filled with water. "And I'm glad to hear your mom's doing okay. So, where's Joan planning on taking you?"

"She never said anything about going out."

"I just assumed, with the shower and…"

Tina just giggles. "Not the only reason to have a shower."

She's brought this on herself, and I wonder if she realises that. "Well, if you two want me and Kristoff to go out instead…"

"Are we that obvious?" From the shade of pink in her cheeks, I'm guessing she has no idea how well she set herself up for that one.

I give her a little smile before replying. "No, you're not that obvious. But I did kind of suggest this morning that Joan could do with some relaxing after stressing out so much over mid-terms."

"Probably," and rather than blushing, Tina's now pulling out her phone. "Just look at these texts."

In short, they're horrible. Sure, autocorrect can be annoying as all hell, but it can't seem to make heads or tails of what she's tried to type. I gently push the phone away. I've already decided that me and Kristoff should go out—and it's been a while since our last date night anyway. I might just leave some massage oil out in plain view before I go though. Or at least in the bathroom. They should find it there. Hopefully Joan won't be too embarrassed by the suggestion.


Kristoff's smiling at me. It's that smile. I give him a skeptical look. We've just pulled up at a rock climbing place. Not what I expected for a daytime date, and that smile leaves me slightly suspicious.

"I have an idea," he's pointing at the building. "If I can do one of the advanced walls, then tonight—" and he leans over and whispers the rest in my ear. I don't blush, but it's close.

"And if you can't?" I am curious.

"Then you get to choose."

"Where's the challenge in that?" I mean sure, it'd be fun, but I don't want it handed to me just because he can't do something.

He smiles. "I thought you might say that. How about if you can do one of the moderate walls then?" He takes the key and steps out.

"You're on." I climb out, accidentally slamming the door. I wince. "Oops."

We hurry into the building, trying to avoid the worst of the rain. We're only a little wet, so it's not too bad. Equipment hire isn't too bad, and the safety briefing is surprisingly short—informative, but short. The harnesses are more comfortable than what we use for work, but that's not a hard bar to clear. I'm glad I went for pants instead of a dress today.

Kristoff clips up in front of one of the moderate walls. I'm belaying for him. "Starting here?"

"Gotta warm up first." And he's suiting action to words by stretching and flexing—and showing off a little for me, too, I'm sure. There's a couple of sections with protrusions and a 90º wall towards the top. It's all covered by those weird, colourful climbing handle-things. Holds? I think they're supposed to be called. He clips up, then we both make sure our lines are secure. Only then does he start climbing.

"I ever tell you I used to do this as a kid?" He's already up four feet.

"Once or twice." He's up to seven feet now, but the holds have really thinned out.

Now he's moving one limb at a time, and I can see his muscles straining occasionally as he's forced onto a single hold, or preparing to make a long reach. It's a good thing he's more flexible than he looks. He's already more than halfway to the top. A little jump gets him past a slightly too large gap between handholds. I watch closely as he braces his feet and hauls himself higher, reaching for another hold—on one of the protrusions. I can feel the slight jerk as the line takes his weight, leaving him dangling next to the wall. He's already got one arm out, catching on a hold somewhat lower down. I give him just a little slack on the line.

He's taking a different route this time, veering to the left, bracing himself between the protrusion and the main wall with his feet, using his hands to haul himself higher. It's effective, but the protrusion doesn't reach the top of the wall—and from that point, the wall angles out slightly, making climbing it that much harder. The holds are closer though, meaning that it's easier to reach, but he's got to use more strength holding his position. Just one more hold, and then he hauls himself over the top of the wall. He rests a moment, then calls out he'll abseil down. I leave just a little tension on the line, paying it out slowly.

He turns to me, sweating a little, and places a hand on my shoulder. "You think this wall should be your 'challenge wall'?"

I scrutinise the wall. It might actually be far enough beyond my abilities that I'd never finish the climb. I shake my head before replying. "No; maybe one grade down—that wall?" I point to the adjacent climbing wall, one with less slope, but a couple more small protrusions. The holds also seem a little closer spaced—which is important considering I'm a fair bit shorter than Kristoff is.

"Okay," he nods, then points to a wall with three protrusions and an overhang section that's almost horizontal. "That's my challenge wall."

I just look at him. "Maybe I should make my challenge harder."

"No," he shakes his head. "It's not the wall that was my problem, it was the motivation."

"Oh, really," I lean in close, whispering in his ear. "So then if you do, tonight…"

"Like I said, motivation." He gives me a playful shove towards one of the other walls. "Now, shouldn't you be doing a practice climb?"

It's an easy wall, I'll admit, but I figure it's within my abilities to scale it easily enough. Me and Kristoff clip on, having swapped roles from his climb. This wall is pretty much vertical, with a gentle forward slope on the bottom section. Handholds are reasonably closely spaced. I go straight for the centre of the wall, not really planning my route—which leaves me short about halfway up. I have to move down, and over to the left, my arms feeling the full length of that stretch. Up again, and now I've got a better idea of which way to go, I actually plan my route.

Which gets me stuck just short of the top of the wall. Because I'm short. I can't quite get enough of my arms over to haul myself up. I have to climb down, then across, and find a set of holds that go even higher. It's another stretch, and my legs are feeling this one before boosting me up in a little jump, enough that I can lean over the edge, hauling myself over the top. I turn and wave at Kristoff. I turn and plant my feet against the wall, abseiling down in rather smaller jumps than he did. My feet touch the floor, and we unclip together. That didn't really seem too bad—but it was just the warm up.

In front of Kristoff's challenge wall we both clip up again. I know this would be well beyond my abilities. The holds are so widely spaced, and the overhang just seems nuts, but I get the feeling that if it's here, in this place, it must be doable somehow—I'm just failing to see the how. I'm also paying more careful attention to how Kristoff's clipping on to each of the anchors on his way up, using a ground belay instead of top-roping. With that overhang top-roping just wouldn't work—I asked one of the staff. Kristoff's almost to the first protrusion now, and there's no holds left. He calls out and I let the line go slack, watching as his muscles tense for the jump.

He slams into the side of the protrusion, hard. His hands scrabble for a hold on top, but he can't find one. He slips down, hanging by his hands from the edge of the protrusion. His legs are dangling in the air, but he manages to get one against the main wall, sort of spidering up. He turns and sits on the protrusion for a moment. I wave at him, and he smiles back, standing and clipping on to the next anchor. There's a few more holds to work with, but he's making his way up, slowly, towards the overhang. There's just not that many holds on the overhang, though the first few are easily within reach. I know there's no real danger, but I can feel my heart beating faster. Maybe its excitement? He's already clipped on to the second anchor on the overhang. I think he can do this.

Until I see he's out of holds. He turns back, retracing his route, but switching paths doesn't seem to help. So far he's been holding his whole body up parallel with the overhang, but now he swings down, using the momentum from the swing to cross the gap hand to hand, like monkey bars in a playground. Another, smaller, swing and he's got his legs back up. He's almost clear of the overhang, and one of the protrusions just past it will let him spider closer to the top of the wall. He doesn't take that route. I look again, and see the lack of holds above it.

Kristoff's just off centre, pulling himself around the edge of the overhang, resting with his feet on a pair of larger holds, and one hand wrapped around another hold higher up. It doesn't seem like he's had that much trouble with the climb—or maybe the end reward really is that motivating. He did have to backtrack. He also nearly missed that first jump. Or he could have fallen from his monkey swing trick. Maybe I'm just better at seeing the positives here. He's starting again, and here there are only a handful of holds, and a slight outward slope on the wall. He clips in to another, higher anchor.

Another jump, but this time he misses his hold, his feet scrabbling against the wall for a moment before he swings down and around, the line—and me on it—arresting his fall. He's able to get himself back on the wall, but it's tougher than it looks. The anchor means he's dangling about two feet out from the wall, given the angle. He's determined though, and I can see it from the way he's set his body against the wall. I know he's planning another jump.

This time it's a wall scramble before he leaps, both hands catching a large hold while his feet dangle in the air. He can just reach the next anchor above him, and I watch as he clips in to it. He's close now, only a couple of metres left before he hits the top. I want to shout something encouraging, but I also don't want to distract him. I can see how few holds there are, but the wall slopes forward again, making the climb easier. I can also see how he's running out of steam. It takes a lot of effort to climb something like this wall. But I want him to do it. Not really because of tonight, but because I like seeing him succeed. And fine, maybe a little bit for tonight.

Kristoff's resting on the forward slope of the wall, both feet placed firmly against a pair of large holds, one hand above him, one out to the side, gripping smaller holds. There's really not that much left. If he jumped he could reach the last hold from where he is. He doesn't though. Instead, he clambers to the side, using the slope of the wall for purchase, then scrabble-climbs to the next nearest hold. From there he can get both feet up, and one hand touching the top of the wall. He's there, dragging himself to the top of the wall.

And only now do I realise he has to retrace his route to get down. He's actually turning around, rappelling down the wall. It actually makes more sense. I'm feeding the rope carefully as he's coming down. I don't know how he'll handle the overhang. He stops just before it, walking down slowly, leaning back until he's past horizontal. Then he jumps out, sliding down, swinging clean under the overhang. Now he's finishing the descent carefully, using his gear while hanging free. It's not like he could swing back to the wall anyway.

His feet are on the ground. "Alright, untie the knot and pull it back through."

I make sure we're both safely unclipped before untying the knot, pulling down on the side he used to rappel. It doesn't take long to gather the rope and re-tie the end. Kristoff checks the knot for me, making sure it's up to scratch. I've got the rope looped over my shoulder. He's smiling at me again.

"What?"

He points at the medium wall. "Your turn."

Oh, right.