Boys, Bears, and a Serious Pair of Hiking Boots(16)
Author: Abby McDonald

Olivia is right: I love a project. Whenever the Green Teens come up with a plan, I usually wind up running the whole thing. I can see right away it would be easy for me to jump in here and take over, but after what happened with Susie and the eco-idea . . . I keep my lips shut and remind myself to keep to the backseat.

“Why not?” Ethan finally relaxes. He shrugs, as if to say, What the hell? “I, uh, guess that would be cool.”

“Awesome!” I beam. “When do you want me?”

Which is how, two hours later, I wind up on the rocky banks of a river in the mountains above town. Strapping myself into a bright orange life vest and helmet, I survey the rushing, ice-cold water with no small amount of trepidation. “Are you sure about this?”

“One hundred percent.” Ethan gives me a supportive grin, waving the video camera. We cocooned it in a bunch of plastic bags to make it splash-resistant, and I just pray that it’s enough. “Now could you look less, you know, terrified? This is supposed to make people want to come out here, not be some public safety warning.”

I plaster a smile over my nerves, approaching the shallows and the small kayak that’s supposed to deliver me safely downstream. Trees overhang the banks on each side, shading us with green and cool, but out in the middle of the river, the sun reflects brightly on the clear water.

Ethan carefully clambers into a double vessel behind Grady and settles in with the camera. Reeve is already way out ahead in his own small kayak, grinning at my clumsy reluctance, so I say a silent prayer and climb in, using the double-ended paddle to push myself off the riverbed and into open water.

“Why don’t you guys get life jackets?” I call over. They’re sitting there in regular clothing while I’m buried under a scratchy inflatable vest that’s already making me way too hot.

Grady snorts. “Only total beginners need them.” He starts to paddle with the current, and left alone, I have no choice but to follow — one tentative stroke at a time.

After fumbling around for a few moments, I actually manage to point the boat in the right direction, but that’s where my natural aptitude ends. It feels completely weird to have my feet trapped together in front of me, and as I plunge the paddle uselessly in the water, I find myself lurching dangerously from side to side.

Oh, God.

“What was that?” Ethan calls back. He’s pointing the camera at me, and I realize that my pitiful performance is getting captured on film.

“Nothing!” I try to smile brightly as I splash in a slow circle. This may be an epic fail, but I still need to look as if I’m having fun.

“Try and feel the balance,” Ethan calls helpfully. “Maybe only paddle one stroke on each side.”

People do this voluntarily? For fun?

I try again, this time keeping my body rigid and using the paddle as balance: making one stroke on my left side, then quickly switching over before I lean too far. To my surprise, it seems to work — better than before, anyway. I get the kayak facing downriver and actually manage to move forward with the current. My mortal fear of tipping over, however, doesn’t seem to ease.

Within a minute or two, I catch up with Ethan and Grady.

“See? Not so bad,” Ethan says from behind the camera. I keep my eyes fixed in front of me. The water is still and calm for now, but every tip and roll of the kayak sends a new panic right through me. “Relax!” he calls, laughing.

“Seriously,” Grady agrees, stretching lazily as if he’s sitting on a couch. “This is nothing.”

Nothing to them, maybe, but I’ve been raised with chlorinated pools and bobbing lane dividers, not a surging flow of Rocky Mountain water. Still, this is for Susie. I gather my courage and follow them around the first bend.

By the time we break for a rest about an hour downstream, my arms are aching and I’ve got serious pins and needles in my calves, but at least I’ve yet to flip over into the icy water.

“Try keeping your knees elevated,” Reeve suggests, watching me jump up and down on the shore. “I usually put a rolled-up sweatshirt under my legs.”

“Oh, thanks.” I’m surprised by the friendly tone. His attitude today has seemed pretty chilly, but maybe I’m reading him wrong. “Want a cookie?” I offer him the bag I stashed along with juice and an apple. He takes one and puts it in his mouth whole, then turns away from me, stripping off his T-shirt.

I try not to stare.

It’s not that I haven’t had exposure to naked teen-boy torsos. My (only) ex, Mike, was part of the whole Christian youth scene, but that just meant our pants stayed on. For three months. But watching Reeve gulp down water like something out of a photo shoot, I realize that there’s a big difference between Mike’s pale, kind of skinny, naked chest, and Reeve’s body, which is tanned and taut, with compact sinewy muscles and shoulder blades that ripple as he moves . . .

I eat another cookie.

“Want to see what I’ve got so far?” Ethan collapses beside me, sprawling out in the sun.

“Absolutely!” I say, too loud, happy for any kind of distraction. Ethan shows me the small viewfinder screen and lets the footage run.

“Oh, this stuff is great!” There are beautiful shots of the scenery: water lapping gently against the shore, birds flying overhead, even some fish darting around in the shallows. And then there’s me. “Noooo,” I moan quietly. I look like a giant orange safety hazard, bundled up in all my protective gear. And as for that grimace of fear . . .

“It’s not so bad,” Ethan insists with a lazy grin. “We can cut all the flailing, and the splashing. There are moments where you actually look like you’re having a good time. See, here”— for a brief second, I smile on-screen —“and here.”

“It’s a start,” I agree reluctantly. “And all the nature stuff is exactly what will sell this place. Maybe soon, we can actually get some tourists in town!”

When we get on the water again, I’m happy to put the flailing, inept version of myself behind me. Instead, I’m paddling like a pro now, gliding effortlessly along the river as I enjoy the warm sunshine. Without all that panic clouding my mind, I can see that this is actually kind of relaxing, nothing but the breeze, calm water, and the beautiful —

Suddenly, the water isn’t quite so calm. It’s getting choppier, the current speeding me downstream. “Umm, guys — what’s happening?” I try back-paddling, but I can’t slow down.