Revived (Cat Patrick)

asks.
    “Yes!” I say enthusiastically. “Thanks for bringing me here. I’ve never done anything like this.”
    “Really?” Matt asks. “There aren’t any rivers where you lived before? Where was it again?”
    Everywhere , I want to say, but don’t.
    “Frozen Hills, Michigan.”
    “Sounds cold.”
    “It was.”
    We’re still holding hands. I can’t help but marvel at the fact that there’s nothing remotely strange about it. No sweaty palms. Neither of us holds on too hard or soft: Our hands instinctively know how to be together.
    “Hey, thanks again for coming to get me in Kansas City,” I say. “That was really cool of you.”
    Matt shrugs but doesn’t answer.
    “I’m serious,” I say. “I don’t know anyone else who would have done that.”
    “I’m sure that’s not true,” Matt says.
    We walk in silence for a few minutes. A breeze picks up over the water and gives me goose bumps. I want to button my sweater, but I don’t want to let go of Matt’s hand. Instead, I walk a little closer to him.
    “So, were your parents pissed about you leaving Kansas City?” Matt asks.
    “No, not really,” I say. “My dad got it.”
    “You never talk about your mom,” Matt observes.
    “Yes, I do,” I say. “What do you want to know?”
    “What’s her name?”
    “Cassie,” I say.
    “What does she do?”
    “She’s a professional mom.”
    “Like mine,” Matt says. “That’s cool. What about your dad?”
    “He’s a psychologist,” I say, feeling a pinch of guilt in my side for the lie.
    “He’s a shrink?”
    “Sort of,” I say.
    “Does he always try to figure you out?” Matt asks.
    “Sometimes,” I say, laughing.
    “And that doesn’t bug you?” he asks.
    I shrug. “Not really. He’s all right.” I get the sense that Matt’s going to keep asking about my parents, so I abruptly change the subject.
    “Hey, did you know that I’m an excellent gymnast?” I drop Matt’s hand and move toward the railing.
    “Uh, no,” Matt says, curious and a bit confused.
    “It’s true,” I say, kicking off one shoe, then the other. “I’m especially great at the balance beam.” Before Matt can reply, I’m up on the river-walk railing, crouched at first, then, when I have my balance, standing. I stretch my arms out to the sides and begin walking forward, my toes turned out so I can grip like a monkey.
    “What are you doing ?” Matt shouts. I glance at him without moving my head; he looks genuinely afraid.
    “I’m showing you my balance-beam skills, of course,” I say, taking two more steps. “Want to see my turn?”
    “No!” Matt says harshly. “I want you to get down. You’re going to fall.”
    “No, I’m not,” I say without meeting his gaze. “And even if I did, I’d be fine. It’s not that far of a fall. I’d just get a little wet. It’s not like I’m going to die or anything.”
    I hear Matt stop. Carefully, I pivot to face him. Matt is not impressed by my skills. In fact, he looks pissed. I think I even see a trace of disgust. I lower myself into a crouch, then jump back to the walkway.
    “What?” I ask as I walk back to my shoes and slip my feet into them. Matt shakes his head at me. “What?” I ask again.
    “Is this how it is with you?” Matt asks. “Are you always this careless?”
    I feel exposed by his words, and silly for showing off. I only wanted to change the subject, to lighten the mood. I didn’t think about what it might mean to him. I realize what an idiotic thing it was to do.
    “Oh, Matt, I’m sorry,” I say. “Here I’m being flip while Audrey is sick. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry.” He stares at me, angry. “Do you want to go home?”
    More staring, then finally, he speaks: “If you can manage to stay off the railing, I’m good with hanging out here awhile longer, if that’s okay with you.”
    Relief floods through me, but I try to play it off.
    “I guess I can handle that,” I say, moving to his side as he starts toward the opposite side of the river once again. After a few moments, Matt speaks again, his voice softer this time.
    “Sorry I freaked out,” he says.
    “No, really, I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how you might feel with all that’s happening with Audrey. I feel like a jerk.”
    Matt doesn’t reply, which makes me feel worse.
    “How are you with all of this stuff, anyway? Are you okay?”
    Matt shrugs. “I’m as okay as I can be, I guess,” he says. He runs a hand through his shaggy, dark