screams, and for a moment he looks like he’s gonna fall in, but then he shakes his hair out of his eyes and grins at Alyson, who just keeps laughing like a girl who got bit by the love bug.
Jett leans way back on his piling, holding out his arms and legs so that he’s practically lying straight out over the water.
“Hey, Shelby,” Tara says. “Hand me that board over there behind you.”
I’m shuddering at Jett’s balancing act so I jump a little when Tara calls out to me. Then I spy the board she’s talking about. I hadn’t noticed it when I passed it earlier. Lifting the board, I’m surprised it isn’t heavier, but I guess cypress wood is light and floats. It’s about six feet long and I drag it along the pier, stopping at the broken-up end and trying not to look into all that water and the nails that look like rusted gator teeth.
The pier creaks under my feet as Tara says, “Hand it out to me and Alyson. We’re gonna set it down across the pilings and then sit on it.”
It takes me a minute to stretch my arms out with the board, hoping I won’t fall in as Tara and Alyson each grasp an end and then place the board across two pilings behind them. Tara goes first and manages to crawl onto the board and keep it secure while Alyson steps across onto the end of it and sits down.
“Think there’s room for three?” Alyson asks.
“’Course there is. Can’t play Truth or Dare while she’s back there staring at us, or running away to tattle.”
“Why would I do that?” I feel insulted.
“Never know with new girls,” Tara says, swinging her legs.
Jett and Ambrose hop back along the pilings and sit on the round stumps closest to Tara and Alyson on their makeshift seat.
Alyson dips the toes of her sandals into the bayou and flings some water up on T-Beau as he sits down.
“Shelby,” Tara says, “you have to jump out here and sit with us. It’s part of the rules.”
“What rules?”
“Rules for the Bridge of Deserted Island.”
I glance around, my gut zinging like I’ve got a Ping-Pong ball inside me. There’s no way I can do it. I know I’ll fall in.
“Actually, there’s no piling for me to step on to get to you,” I say, hiding my relief. “The boys are all sitting on them.”
Ambrose yells, “Come on, you can do it! Just take a really big leap.”
“And fall right in, and never come back up again,” I mutter.
Ambrose and T-Beau laugh hysterically, holding their stomachs.
Jett calls out, “Jest sit on the edge right there where it’s broken and then we can hear each other better.”
Prickles of fear run straight up my nervous system. I don’t want to sit and swing my legs over all those jagged, rotting, moldy boards and bent and ugly nails. Submerged like creatures lying in wait to rise up out of the bayou and pull me under.
I bite my cheek, wishing I was anywhere else but here. Wishing I had the guts to run back across the bridge and head for the town docks.
Tasting blood inside my mouth, I fold up my legs and sit crossways on the planks of the pier, several feet away from the edge so I don’t have to look down into the water.
“Cheater,” Ambrose calls out.
I ignore him, licking at my lips.
Jett is such a daredevil. He leans back again, holding out his legs and arms and teetering like he’s going to fall into the bayou. Soon all three boys are doing it and Tara rolls her eyes, but I can tell they probably do this every day.
“So now we play Truth or Dare,” Tara announces. “Everybody has to have a turn.”
My heart crashes against my ribs. I hate slumber partieswhere girls play that game. I always end up having to do something stupid with my eyes blindfolded.
The sun is beating hot as peppers on my head and my stomach growls. It’s almost noon and those grits and toast for breakfast was hours and hours ago. “Isn’t it time for lunch?” I ask, thinking about the sandwich in my backpack on the bank.
They ignore my request for food.
“Who’s
Jett leans way back on his piling, holding out his arms and legs so that he’s practically lying straight out over the water.
“Hey, Shelby,” Tara says. “Hand me that board over there behind you.”
I’m shuddering at Jett’s balancing act so I jump a little when Tara calls out to me. Then I spy the board she’s talking about. I hadn’t noticed it when I passed it earlier. Lifting the board, I’m surprised it isn’t heavier, but I guess cypress wood is light and floats. It’s about six feet long and I drag it along the pier, stopping at the broken-up end and trying not to look into all that water and the nails that look like rusted gator teeth.
The pier creaks under my feet as Tara says, “Hand it out to me and Alyson. We’re gonna set it down across the pilings and then sit on it.”
It takes me a minute to stretch my arms out with the board, hoping I won’t fall in as Tara and Alyson each grasp an end and then place the board across two pilings behind them. Tara goes first and manages to crawl onto the board and keep it secure while Alyson steps across onto the end of it and sits down.
“Think there’s room for three?” Alyson asks.
“’Course there is. Can’t play Truth or Dare while she’s back there staring at us, or running away to tattle.”
“Why would I do that?” I feel insulted.
“Never know with new girls,” Tara says, swinging her legs.
Jett and Ambrose hop back along the pilings and sit on the round stumps closest to Tara and Alyson on their makeshift seat.
Alyson dips the toes of her sandals into the bayou and flings some water up on T-Beau as he sits down.
“Shelby,” Tara says, “you have to jump out here and sit with us. It’s part of the rules.”
“What rules?”
“Rules for the Bridge of Deserted Island.”
I glance around, my gut zinging like I’ve got a Ping-Pong ball inside me. There’s no way I can do it. I know I’ll fall in.
“Actually, there’s no piling for me to step on to get to you,” I say, hiding my relief. “The boys are all sitting on them.”
Ambrose yells, “Come on, you can do it! Just take a really big leap.”
“And fall right in, and never come back up again,” I mutter.
Ambrose and T-Beau laugh hysterically, holding their stomachs.
Jett calls out, “Jest sit on the edge right there where it’s broken and then we can hear each other better.”
Prickles of fear run straight up my nervous system. I don’t want to sit and swing my legs over all those jagged, rotting, moldy boards and bent and ugly nails. Submerged like creatures lying in wait to rise up out of the bayou and pull me under.
I bite my cheek, wishing I was anywhere else but here. Wishing I had the guts to run back across the bridge and head for the town docks.
Tasting blood inside my mouth, I fold up my legs and sit crossways on the planks of the pier, several feet away from the edge so I don’t have to look down into the water.
“Cheater,” Ambrose calls out.
I ignore him, licking at my lips.
Jett is such a daredevil. He leans back again, holding out his legs and arms and teetering like he’s going to fall into the bayou. Soon all three boys are doing it and Tara rolls her eyes, but I can tell they probably do this every day.
“So now we play Truth or Dare,” Tara announces. “Everybody has to have a turn.”
My heart crashes against my ribs. I hate slumber partieswhere girls play that game. I always end up having to do something stupid with my eyes blindfolded.
The sun is beating hot as peppers on my head and my stomach growls. It’s almost noon and those grits and toast for breakfast was hours and hours ago. “Isn’t it time for lunch?” I ask, thinking about the sandwich in my backpack on the bank.
They ignore my request for food.
“Who’s
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