Page 34 of Furious

“I also reserve the right to not jump,” Zaynah says, while CJ and James race each other up the twisting, root-laden path to the top of the bluff. She casts a quick glance at El’s and my hands and then starts up the path.

Several minutes later, I’m standing above the river, rope swing in hand. I tug on it, making sure it’s attached securely to the tree branch. No problem there. It’s fraying below the knot, but it feels sturdy. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be holding on to it long. Below me, the river is dark green, and beyond the deep pool below the bluff, little eddies form around rocks, looking like the lace doilies on Grandma Jolene’s living room end tables.

I let out a long, shaky breath as my adrenaline ratchets up. This is nothing like a race, but that same heady anticipation fills me.

“Want to go first or want me to go?” James asks. He’s got one hand on the tree trunk and is looking eagerly down at the water.

I glance over at El, who stands between Zaynah and CJ. She offers me a shaky thumbs-up.

I can’t help it; I want to impress her. “I’ll go,” I say.

“Be careful!” El calls out, her hands now fists at her sides, her brow creased with worry.

I shoot her a half smile and then step back, focused only on the five feet of earth between me and the edge of the cliff. I step back, gripping the rope in both hands.

Be fearless. Run fast.

You can do this.

With one quick exhale, I surge forward, holding the rope. There’s a brief, breathless moment when my feet leave the ground and I swing out, hurtling into the air above the river. The rope chafes my hands, and then I release it, plummeting toward the water. Air rushes past my face and adrenaline lights my veins. A whoop of pure joy whips out of my chest because that’s right. I love this feeling. This is what racing feels like and why it’s worth being brave.

Before I can have any other great revelations, I hit the water with an enormous splash. I plunge deep, sinking into the cool, murky depths of the pool. My sandals hit the pebble-strewn bottom of the river, and I kick off, surging upward. A few seconds later, I break the surface, laughing and spitting out water.

Far above me, James and CJ cheer and whistle appreciatively. Zaynah is also clapping. And El beams down at me, holding the rope swing in her hands.

“C’mon!” I yell out. “It’s so much fun!” I swim toward shore, looking upward.

El’s eyes meet mine for a moment, and then she pulls the rope back. My mouth falls open as El Blum runs toward the edge of the cliff, letting out a tremendous scream as she flies out and releases the rope.

Fearless.

This girl is so brave and I like her so much.

Like I did, El plunges into the water and then breaks the surface a few seconds later, grinning. Her wet hair clings to her forehead and her eyes shine.

“That was amazing!” she cries out, voice laced with laughter.

I swim back to the pool, so I can kiss her right then and there, in front of all our friends.

After many more cliff jumps, we float the rest of the way downriver to Zaynah’s car. We wrap up in towels while she makes the drive back to the metal bridge—how had it taken us so many hours to float down the river when it’s just a fifteen-minute drive back to where we started?—and we change into clean clothes. As we’re packing all the tubes back in the Oatmobile, my stomach gives an almighty growl. I glance at my phone. It’s after five already, and I can’t face going back to my house, with Grandma Jolene gone and Dad on his computer.

“Want to grab some dinner at Bless My Grits?” I suggest. “My treat?”

Everyone agrees enthusiastically, and we caravan back to Dell’s Hollow, passing through the tiny downtown with its two antique stores, florist, nail salon, library, and the Founder’s Fountain and park, which is filled with people listening to an outdoor fiddle concert. We find parking spots near Bless My Grits, a small chrome-and-vinyl-decorated diner, which is run by a friend of Grandma Jolene’s, and make our way inside. As we slide into a booth, El squeezing in between me and Zaynah, my shoulders twinge with sunburn. But it’s been a wonderful day overall, and I’m feeling very loved by all my friends. I feel almost like the me I was in Charleston.

As our cheeseburgers and fries and Zaynah’s veggie wrap arrive, El leans in, showing me her phone and a message from Riley.

Race happening tomorrow night, Benton Creek Airfield. Be there by sunset.

Excitement surges through me. “This is our chance! Where’s the Benton Creek Airfield?”

El bites her bottom lip as she types the name into Google. “About twenty minutes south of here. It’s an abandoned local airfield… .”

“Perfect! The Hornet is ready to race!”

“Are you sure? I mean, we can always—”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” CJ demands. They flick a french fry at me.