Short story about rock climbers

Another (unedited) unfinished story:

She strained to retain her hold on the plastic rock while her other hand fumbled to clip the quickdraw to the d-ring three feet above her head. But no matter how heavily she chalked up her hands, the combination of a damp, humid basement and her own sweat worked against her. As her hand slipped off the rock, for a split second she had time to realize what was happening. “Oh shit,” Rose thought, oddly casual. No time to panic.

And Rose fell. She plummeted nearly fifteen feet when the rope, attached to her nylon harness, arrested her fall. The slightly elastic cord stretched a few inches, and brought Rose to a stop safely, and she smiled, nonplussed.

Fortunately, she had been trying to clip the d-ring on an arete, and instead of falling against the fake rockface, she fell straight down into the midair. Rose heard a startled yell over the pounding rock music, and grinned down at her friend, Kris.

Kris shouted over the music, “Are you okay?” She looked worried.

Rose laughed and shouted, “Fine! I’m going to try again!”