I nod and smile, relieved I’m not going to be left on my own on my first day. Maybe Ellis—not Aiden—will be my person, my quick friend. There’s always one—that person who immediately feels like someone you’ve known forever—someone you’d tell a secret to immediately after meeting, if they asked.

Unfortunately, Ellis is also a liar. Because within twenty minutes of dispersing everyone to their duties, he disappears with nothing but a “You got this.” Which I hope was directed toward Aiden, because I totally do not “got this.” I watch Ellis as he leaves, and slowly turn toward Aiden, who has managed to operate in complete silence since introductions. He’s almost robotic in his actions, moving canoes from the stacked piles to each dock, then jotting something down on the paper nailed to the stump. Canoe numbers, probably. Ellis showed us the list of today’s reservations, and we’re basically supposed to queue up all of the equipment for the day, assigning boats to each group and noting the numbers on the paperwork. People are too impatient to wait for us to do paperwork once they get down to the water, Ellis told me.

So I look at the paper on the stump, and pick the first trip that hasn’t been checked off. I grab a yellow kayak from the pile, put a life jacket inside, and shove a paddle down into the cavity, jotting down a number for each on the sheet. Everything at River Depot has a number on it, so they can track who has returned what. Next to me, Aiden is hauling a canoe down from the rack.

“How’s your eye doing?” I say it because I’m nervous. And because I’m stupid around new people. Even though I’ve seen Aiden around the hallways since elementary school, and at every baseball game I’ve ever been to, I don’t think I’ve ever actually talked to him one-on-one. New people make me nervous—especially when they seem annoyed by my very existence. But somehow I keep hoping that for some reason he just doesn’t recognize me. That outside of school, I must look different. Maybe it’s the khakis. Or the lack of makeup. Yes, of course. I mentally salute myself for solving the riddle.

“It’s fine.” Another canoe comes down in a controlled fall.

“I bet you’ll have a great scar.”

“Yeah, I guess I can check that off the old bucket list,” he says.

Okay. This isn’t going great.

Before I can think of another benign comment, Aiden turns on me, a light in his eyes that I’ve yet to see since I got here. His brows twitch up like he’s just remembered something exciting.

AIDEN