The meal makes us stronger, no doubt about it. Humans need fuel. I mean, duh, right? But for some reason I never understood what it meant to be starving. Really starving, not just hungry because you missed snack time.

The meal also makes one of us more talkative.

“You know what?” Imani says as we resume our march beside the river. “We’re a team, right? And teams have a name. I vote we call ourselves the Dream Team.”

“Where does that come from?” Mia asks.

She grins, her eyes lighting up. “My dad is a huge basketball fan, and the original Dream Team is his favorite of all time. The team that won the 1992 Olympics. He watches the final game every year on his birthday, and every year, he stands up and cheers when they win.”

“I like it,” Mia says. “Daniel?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never been on any team, never mind a dream team. It’s an honor.”

I’m not really a loner type, but I don’t have many friends, and until now, none of them were girls. Plus, I don’t have a sister, so basically I’m clueless about girls. But it turns out having two wicked-smart, courageous girls for friends is totally great.

It’s like we’ve been friends forever, even before we knew each other. Doesn’t make sense, but that’s how it feels. For instance, it doesn’t seem weird at all that Mia likes to turn things into funny, cheerful songs, especially when we’re hiking. That’s who she is.

“One for all and all for one,” she sings. “Keep on walking, have some fun. Please stop raining, come on, sun. One for all and all for one.”

Imani joins in, and when I don’t, she nudges me.

“Um, sorry, but I sound like a frog.”

“Come on, Froggy. Sing!”

I do, and they think it’s hilarious, but that’s fine because I love to make them laugh. Because I know in my heart they’re not laughing at me, we’re laughing together.

One for all and all for one. What a beautiful idea.

We make good progress, tramping the shoreline, until the shoreline ends. As it comes to a curve, the river widens all the way to the ravine wall. We have to go back up top. Imani finds us a path, and we carefully work our way along it, using a rope for safety. The path is steep, and the ravine is high in this part of the river. At least fifty feet. Makes me wish I had hiking boots instead of soggy running shoes. But I don’t, so I have to make do. One step at a time, don’t slip. Slip and you’re dead, or at least broken.