Chapter Seven

Wet Wide Bottoms

Meg

"Is this a bad time to mention that I don't really like water or boats?" I asked, trying to keep the wobble out of my voice.

Alice burst into laughter, her paddle slicing smoothly through the water. "What? We were in the pool yesterday! And this canoe is not going to tip over. It's got a wide bottom."

I glanced nervously over the side of the canoe, trying to gauge just how wide that bottom really was. The water rippled ominously beneath us, the surface dark and deep. "Same, boat. Wide bottoms stick together," I mumbled, more to myself than to her.

Alice chuckled again. "We're halfway there, anyway."

I didn't find that as comforting as she probably intended it to be. My grip on the sides of the canoe tightened, knuckles going white as I stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the little splashes of water that occasionally hit the side of the canoe.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I went canoeing with my family when I was like ten?" I asked, more to distract myself than to actually tell the story. "Before we even left the shore, I managed to tip the canoe with my dad in it. Then, when I was trying to get back in the second time, I landed back in the water. My family decided not to chance it after that, and we scrapped the whole idea of canoeing."

Alice turned to me with an amused, sympathetic smile. "Memories."

"Yeah, something like that," I said, my wobbly smile fading as I noticed the vast expanse of water all around us. We were in the middle of the lake, far from the safety of the shore. "You're sure this thing won't tip?"

"Positive," Alice said, her tone confident. "Just keep paddling, and we'll be there in no time."

"Come on, guys!" Reva's voice floated back to us from up ahead. "You're falling behind!"

I glanced around, somewhat incredulous. "We're in the middle of the lake. How are we behind?" I called out, my voice carrying across the water.

"We'll meet you at the island!" Nikki shouted back. She was in the same boat as Reva, both of them paddling with ease and confidence, which made me even more anxious about our slower pace.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the rhythm of paddling, but every ripple in the water felt like it might be the one that would tip us over. The island we were aiming for seemed impossibly far away, and I could feel my nerves starting to fray at the edges.

Alice's laughter broke through my thoughts. "How long until they realize we've got the cooler in our canoe?"

Despite my anxiety, I couldn't help but laugh. "They'll figure it out when they get thirsty. Or hungry. Or both."

Alice grinned. "Exactly. That's why we're the VIPs of this little adventure. We're the ones with all the goods."

I shook my head, finally loosening my death grip on the canoe just a bit. "I suppose that makes us pretty important. Maybe they'll wait for us, after all."

"Or come back for us," Alice added with a wink.

I took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the tension ease from my shoulders. If Alice wasn't worried, maybe I didn't need to be either. I dipped my paddle back into the water and tried to match her rhythm, focusing on the gentle splash and the way the canoe glided forward with each stroke.

"See?" Alice said, her voice calm and steady. "It's not so bad, right? Just you, me, and the wide-bottomed canoe. No tipping, no disasters, just a peaceful paddle across the lake."

I nodded, feeling a little more confident with each passing minute. The sun was warm on my skin, and the breeze was light. "Maybe this isn't so bad after all."

Alice shot me a knowing smile. "Told you."

We paddled in comfortable silence for a while, the shore and the island getting closer with each stroke. I let myself relax into the rhythm, finally enjoying the peacefulness of the lake and the time spent with Alice. The earlier anxiety started to fade, replaced by a sense of calm I hadn't expected to find out here.

"Okay, I'll admit it," I said after a while, breaking the silence. "This is kinda nice."

Alice grinned. "Kinda? Come on, Meg, you're loving it."

"Maybe," I conceded, feeling a bit of my earlier fear melt away. "But just a little."

"Next time, you'll be the one begging to go canoeing," Alice teased.

I laughed. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. One successful trip doesn't mean I'm about to make this a regular thing."

"Fair enough," Alice said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "But you did great, and we're almost there."

We were about thirty yards away from the shore, and I was just starting to relax, the steady rhythm of paddling and the sound of the water lapping against the canoe beginning to feel almost soothing. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the lake, turning the surface into a shimmering expanse of gold and blue. Alice was paddling with ease, her strokes smooth and confident, while I was finally beginning to feel like I might actually enjoy this whole canoeing experience.

Just as I was about to say something to Alice about how proud I was of myself for not freaking out, something caught my eye. A shadow moved beneath the water, quick and sleek, darting just under the surface.

Before I could even register what it was, a fish—a sizable one, by the look of it—launched itself out of the water with the kind of enthusiasm I usually reserve for dessert. It arced through the air in a gleaming, silvery blur and smacked against the side of the canoe right by my hand with a loud *thwack*.

"Gah!" I yelped, jumping so violently that the canoe wobbled precariously from side to side. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest, and in my panic, I lurched to the opposite side of the canoe, trying to put some distance between myself and the now thrashing fish.

Big mistake.

The canoe, already unsteady from my initial freak-out, tipped even further as I moved. Before I could correct myself, the laws of physics decided to remind me who was boss. With a sickening lurch, the canoe tipped to one side, and I felt myself sliding, helpless, toward the edge.

"Meg, no!" Alice shouted, her voice somewhere between alarmed and amused.

But it was too late. With a splash that was far from graceful, I tumbled over the side and into the lake, arms flailing and legs kicking. The cold water swallowed me up, and for a moment, all I could hear was the roar of bubbles and the muffled sounds of the world above.

I surfaced quickly, sputtering and gasping, my hair plastered to my face. I wiped it away, blinking against the sunlight, and found myself floating beside the now slightly off-balance canoe. Alice was staring down at me, her eyes wide with a mix of concern and barely contained laughter.

"You okay?" she asked, though the twitching corners of her mouth suggested she already knew the answer.

I spat out a mouthful of lake water, then wiped my face with my hand. "Am I okay? A fish attacked me! And I fell out of the canoe! How the hell did you not fall out?"

Alice finally lost the battle against her laughter. "The fish didn't attack you! It just... got a little too enthusiastic. And you, my friend, freaked out." She shook her head, still chuckling. "I thought you didn't like water, but here you are, going for an unexpected swim." She moved back and forth. "I also have cat-like reflexes. I swear it was like you fell in slow motion."

I scowled up at her, but I couldn't maintain it. The absurdity of the situation was too much, and before I knew it, I was laughing, too, the sound echoing across the lake. "This was not part of the plan!"

"No, but it will sure make for a good story," Alice grinned, reaching out a hand to help me back into the canoe.

I grabbed her hand and, with her help, managed to haul myself—dripping, bedraggled, and decidedly less dignified—back into the canoe. The boat rocked dangerously as I scrambled to get settled, and for a moment, I thought we might both end up in the water this time. But Alice kept us steady, and after a bit of awkward maneuvering, I was back in my seat, though considerably wetter than before.

I could hear laughing from all of the other girls floating across the lake. Of course, I would be the one to land head over teakettle in the water for everyone to watch.

"So," Alice said, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably, "how was your swim?"

"Refreshing," I deadpanned, squeezing the water out of my hair. "Though I wouldn't recommend it if you want to stay dry."

"Noted," Alice said, still chuckling as she resumed paddling. "But you have to admit, that was pretty impressive. I've never seen anyone get launched out of a canoe by a fish before."

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. "I'm glad I could be the first to show you how it's done. But seriously, who knew fish could be so... aggressive?"

"They probably just heard about the time you tipped a canoe when you were ten and wanted to see if you still had the touch," Alice teased.

"Well, mission accomplished," I muttered, though I couldn't help but laugh along with her. "I hope that fish is happy."

"I'm sure it's telling all its fish friends about the human it managed to unseat," Alice grinned. "You'll be a legend down there."

"Great," I said, shaking my head. "Just what I always wanted—to be famous among fish."

We both laughed again, and this time, the tension in my shoulders finally eased. The shore was getting closer now, and with it, the promise of dry land and maybe a towel or two. I was still wet and slightly shivering, but at least the sun was warm, and the day was too beautiful to let a little swim ruin it.

As we paddled the last few yards to the shore, I couldn't help but glance back at the spot where the fish had made its surprise entrance. The water was calm again, with no sign of the aquatic troublemaker. It was almost like it had never happened—except for the fact that I was soaking wet, and the story would probably follow me for years to come.

Alice was still grinning as we finally pulled up to the shore and dragged the canoe onto the sand. She looked at me, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, definitely not," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But hey, at least you made it to shore without tipping the canoe this time."

"Small victories," I sighed, wringing out my shirt as best I could. "Next time, I'm bringing a wetsuit. Or maybe just a snorkel."

Greta and Raven came running over and grabbed the cooler from the canoe. "Thank God you didn't take the whole thing down with you, Meg," Greta snickered.

I flipped her off and tossed my hair back.

Alice laughed, clapping me on the back. "You're a good sport, Meg. Not everyone could take an unexpected dunk in the lake and still keep their sense of humor."

"Yeah, well," I said, giving her a wry smile, "what's a little water when you're with friends? Even if those friends do laugh at you when you get attacked by rogue fish."

"I'll always have your back, even if it's just to help you back into the canoe," Alice promised, still smiling.

"Good to know," I replied, finally feeling the warmth of the sun start to chase away the chill from my impromptu swim. "But next time, let's stick to activities that don't involve water, okay?"

Alice laughed again. "Deal."

Alice

"Do you miss me?" I asked, my voice softening as I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder.

There was a grunt on the other end of the line, and I could almost picture Wrecker's face, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Alice," he sighed.

"Well, do you?" I pressed, a smile tugging at my lips despite the distance between us.

He sighed again, a heavy sound that made my heart flutter. "Yes," he admitted, and I could hear the truth in his voice.

My insides warmed at his simple answer. I knew Wrecker loved me, but I couldn't help but wonder sometimes if he was secretly a little happy to have some time to himself. "How are the cows?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Still cows," he replied dryly, but I could hear the hint of a smile in his tone.

I laughed, the sound echoing through the camper where I was sitting. "Eden heads back to school tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yeah, thank God," Wrecker said with a note of relief. "She's been hovering over me non-stop. She's going out with the girls tonight, too, also, thank God."

"She's just worried about you," I said, though I could understand his need for a little breathing room. Eden could be a bit intense when she set her mind to something. I had told her to keep Wrecker busy, and it seemed that she was doing just that.

"Yeah, well, she could lay off a bit," he grumbled, but then he changed the subject. "Things been good with you? I'd be worried if you weren't texting me good night every night. Maybe you don't miss me," he added, teasing now.

I could almost feel his smile through the phone, which made me smile too. "Things are laid-back but crazy here, if that makes sense. We were on an island in the middle of the lake today. We took canoes, and you'd think that would be peaceful, right?"

Wrecker snorted. "Nothing's peaceful with you, babe."

"Well," I drawled, enjoying the banter, "I will have you know, I was not the one who managed to yeet themselves into the lake."

"Karmen?" he guessed, sounding genuinely curious.

"Nope. Come to find out, Meg is not a fan of boats or water. A fish jumped into our boat and scared the ever-living crap out of her. Next thing I knew, she was in the lake, and the fish was still in the boat."

Wrecker's low chuckle rumbled through the phone, a sound I missed more than I realized. "Meg? Seriously?"

"Seriously," I confirmed, grinning. "After I managed to get her out of the lake and back into the boat, we had a nice picnic on the island and just hung out there all day. Meg made baked potatoes over the fire with every single topping you could think of for dinner. I swear I'm going to come home twenty pounds heavier."

"Sounds like you're having a good time," he said, his voice softening. "Hopefully, the next few days won't be so eventful."

"Let's hope," I laughed. "But I have to say, I miss you, Wrecker. It's not the same without you."

There was a brief pause, and then he spoke, his voice quieter, more serious. "I miss you too, Alice. The house feels... empty without you. Even with Eden around."

The warmth in my chest spread, filling me with a sense of contentment. "I'll be home soon," I promised, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Good," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice again. "Just don't let any more fish try to take you and Meg out, okay?"

I laughed softly. "I'll do my best. But I can't promise anything with this crew. Who knows what kind of trouble we'll get into tomorrow?"

"Just keep texting me good night," he said, his voice gruff but affectionate. "I like knowing you're safe."

"Always," I promised.