Page 90 of Theoretically Straight

I stare at the bright green and purple rope ladders in horror. Each end of the ladder converges to be supported at one point—one at the top and one at the bottom—suspended over an inflated bouncy house floor. The wobbly ladders provide a slight incline to get to the top, where there’s a large red button. My confidence in winning Caleb’s witch puppy is fading fast.

“Theo, this is clearly so rigged,” Oliver says, not bothering to keep his voice down. “It’s impossible to stay balanced. No one ever wins these things.”

The attendant says nothing, his attention already waning.

“Come on, dude, seriously–”

“How much?” I ask the attendant.

“Five dollars per attempt,” the attendant drones.

“Five dollars!?” Oliver shouts. “For one try?”

“What’s five dollars?” Harrison asks as he approaches us now. I should have expected to have an audience, but the pressure of completing this challenge in front of the entire crew is mounting quickly.

“Harry, please don’t let Theo waste his money on a stupid carnival game,” Oliver says angrily.

Harrison laughs. “Yeah, right. Theo’s literally the last person who would fall for a carnival game.”

I bite my lip. “Well…”

Harrison’s smile fades immediately. “Seriously?”

“This should be fun,” Wren says with a smirk as they sidle up beside Oliver.

“Theo, you don’t have to do this,” Caleb says quietly, just to me. “I won’t like you any less if you don’t.”

I find myself taking in Caleb’s face for a few moments. We’ve been walking around in the sun all afternoon, so a few spots like the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and the top of his brow are tinted pink. His expression is gentle and kind, and I know he means what he says about not having to do this. I don’t have to win his affection. I have it already. But this only makes me want to win him something even more.

After a few seconds, I turn back to the attendant with a crisp ten-dollar bill. “Let’s do this.”

Oliver groans loudly behind me. Freddy and Elise laugh. I don’t hear any other reaction, but it doesn’t matter. I need to get my head in the game.

The attendant takes my money and guides me to the rope ladder on the right. “Okay, the rules are no holding on to the rope or the outside of the ladder, no resting your elbows or knees on the rung or rope, and if you fall off, you lose.”

“Is it timed?”

“Nope.”

I nod and study the ladder. Theoretically, all I need to do is distribute my weight evenly across the ladder so that it stays level, right? It can’t be that difficult. I’ve paid for two tries, so I use my first one to get a feel for the ladder, carefully placing my legs and hands equidistant from each other.

As soon as all of my weight is on the ladder, it immediately flips, and I fall to the inflated mat below. Shit.

“Told you!” Oliver shouts.

“Not helpful,” I shout back. I glance at Caleb, who flashes me a sympathetic smile. Even though I know he’s just trying to be supportive, I latch on to it as motivation to keep going.

I take my place back at the base of the ladder and survey it again. Maybe if I go fast, practically just run up the ladder and use it to propel me towards the button, I could make it.

Without trying to overthink it, I go for the running start approach. Once again, as soon as I’m on the ladder, it spins me off onto the mat.

“Come on, Theo,” Harrison calls from behind me. “It’s all about your center of mass. It’s like a tightrope. You have to balance out your weight so that your center of gravity stays in the middle of the ladder.”

“I’ll need another five if you’re attempting it again,” the attendant says as I scramble to my feet. I nod and dig out my wallet.

“Theo, it’s really fine,” Caleb starts.

“No, I can do this,” I reassure him—and myself. Harrison’s right. I just need to maintain my center of mass.

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