Trust fall

RACHEL'S POV

Devon's hair flew every which way, dancing like birch trees on a windy day as he looked down, excitement beaming in his eyes as he turned. He held my gaze, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Are you ready?" I could hardly make sense of what he said as his voice was drowned out by the loud rum of the helicopter blades.

Moving the locks of hair that danced with the wind across my face and tucking it behind my ear, I replied. 

"Not really!" I feel dread knotting in my stomach as I look down. Greenery as far as the eyes could see, but from up here It all looked like one big swatch of paint, with tiny specs of colors, which must be the buildings. How did Devon manage to convince me into this?