Aiden steps into the canoe, and he’s not nearly as graceful as Beth—we lurch to the left and then bob to the right, swaying gently side to side until we’re gliding out into the center of the river. We’re headed straight for the opposite shore, until I feel us come to a hard stop as the front swings unexpectedly to the left. We’re perfectly lined down the middle of the river now, Beth and Troy up ahead, and Ellis and Jaz alongside us. It’s unnerving, being in front and not being able to anticipate the motions of the canoe. If I knew how to steer—if I knew how to even hold a paddle properly—I could be in the back. I could be in control.

“How do you even do that?” There’s a sort of awe in my voice that was unintentional, though totally warranted.

“Just think of your paddle like a rudder. From there it should be pretty instinctual.”

It’s also really weird having a conversation with someone behind me, because I don’t even know if he’s being serious. “Instinctual to anyone who has … used a rudder?”

Aiden laughs, and I swear the whole canoe sort of vibrates under me. “How could you grow up in Riverton—with the lake, and the river—and make it this long without canoeing? That’s the kind of avoidance that takes actual effort.”

“I think I canoed once when I was nine,” I correct him. “My Aunt Sarah isn’t much of an outdoor person.… None of my family is.”

“What kind of person is she?”

“The board-games-and-movies-until-midnight kind.” The popcorn-for-dinner-on-Friday-nights kind.

“And Zander’s never taken you?”

“Nope.”

“You don’t have to paddle if you don’t want to. You should just enjoy the scenery, if you’ve never been on the river before.”

I do what he says and set the wood across my lap. “I saw the river this afternoon, remember?”

“Not like this.” He says it ominously, as if at some point it’s going to open up like something out of a fairytale, and the swirling cyclone of the river will just suck us down into a vortex of talking rabbits and unicorns. In a fairytale we’d either be transported somewhere magically wonderful, or to the complete opposite. What is my magical place? I hate that the first thing that pops into my head is Zander. Or, more accurately, Zander and the lake house. That is probably one of my favorite places. And I can’t help but wonder what everyone there is doing right now. If anyone wishes they would see me in a few weeks at Fourth of July.