“Why are you nervous?”

“Because you probably hate me, and I don’t blame you, but we have to work together all summer, so it would be really great if you didn’t.” He sounds nervous, as the words rush out.

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because I screwed over Zander? Because he probably hates me too?”

“He pretty much does, yes.” I keep my eyes on the concrete barrier we’re quickly approaching. “But I don’t. His problems aren’t mine.” Not anymore, I think. “Plus, you just rescued me. So even if I did hate you—which I don’t—I’d have to forgive you now. Those are the rules.”

“The rules of what?” he asks.

“I don’t know—life? Or books, at least.”

“I didn’t realize books had rules.”

“They don’t have rules, per se, just expectations. Like, if someone rescues someone, the reader expects that one of three things will happen.”

We keep paddling, I don’t know that I’m actually helping, but I dip my paddle in anyway, and if it doesn’t hit the side of the canoe, I consider it a victory.

“What are the three things?” he says impatiently, as if he’s been waiting for this very important information.

“Right. Well, they can become best friends, they can fall in love, or … they’ll end up killing them.”

Silence stretches between us, until Aiden’s curious voice slices through it. “Which of the three do you think happens for us?”

“We’ll have to wait and see, I guess. But I’m really hoping I don’t kill you; I look horrible in orange.”

I don’t know how long we’ve been out here, but my arm is sore, and there’s a little raw spot where a blister is forming on my thumb. My phone is back in my purse, sitting on the floor of the garage. It feels like we just got out on the water, but also it feels like I’ve seen a million trees, and three different sand dunes that look alike, and around every bend in the river it just opens up to more and more blue ahead of us. It doesn’t feel like the river is anywhere close to its end.

“We should probably head back soon,” Aiden says, but he doesn’t sound very concerned. A perk of being the boss’s kid, probably. It’s not his first day, and I doubt he’s getting fired.

I moan, not wanting to think about going back to real life.

He laughs. “Okay, fine. Heads or tails?”

“Heads. Always.”

“Okay, heads we go to the right, and I show you the super-secret route through Loon Lake, buying you an extra fifteen minutes.”

“And tails?”

“Tails we head back,” he says.