Not Our Summer by Casie Bazay (best ebook reader for ubuntu .TXT) 📕

the Sluice,” he informs us as we get back into the raft. “It’ll be coming up here in about half an hour.”

“Nice,” Dillon says, and we exchange a smile of excitement. Becka and I sit up front this time, and before we set off she quickly reapplies sunscreen on her arms and legs. To my surprise, she then offers the bottle to me.

I mumble my thanks, reminding myself that she probably doesn’t care if I get sunburned or not; she just doesn’t want everyone to think she’s rude. Even though I’d remembered my own sunscreen for this trip, I left it in the car like a dummy.

I’m still rubbing the lotion onto my legs when I spot another patch of fast-moving water in the distance. “Rapids ahead!” I yell before Barry has a chance.

“Let’s keep left,” he instructs, so we all paddle in that direction. The raft’s speed quickens, and soon we’re zigging and zagging between rocks. It’s a total buzz.

“Woo hoo!” Dillon yells from behind me, and Delilah gives a squeal of delight. Guess this trip isn’t so lame to them now.

“Good job, gang,” Barry says as the water calms once again.

“See, this is fun, isn’t it?” Trista says.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her and Luke fist bump. They seem like the perfect couple, cute and young and sort of cool. I wonder what it would have been like to grow up with a mom and dad like that. The kind who love each other and have money to take their kids on fun vacations like this. Dillon and Delilah probably have no clue how lucky they are.

“You having fun?” I ask Becka, because I am and maybe I just feel like being nice for once.

Her wary look turns into a halfway smile. “Yeah, I am actually.”

“Cool. This might be my favorite trip so far. I can’t wait for the Sluice.”

Becka’s brow furrows as she seems to consider something. “I think Yellowstone is still my favorite.”

Pretty sure I know why, but I don’t bring that up. Instead, I try to think of something else to say, something friendly, but having a pleasant conversation is still pretty much foreign territory for us, and I’m coming up short. Becka doesn’t seem all that keen on chatting, either, so maybe it’s for the best.

We hear the Sluice before we see it, and my excitement multiplies ten times over, but when the “Mother of All Rapids” finally comes into view, Barry tells us to row to shore.

“How come?” I ask, because it feels a little anticlimactic to stop now.

“I want you guys to see how it’s done first,” he says with a wink.

We climb out, and Barry pulls the raft to shore. There are several large rocks directly across from the Sluice, and they serve as the perfect front row seats. Anticipation continues to swell inside me as we join several other people there. The rapid is nothing like I pictured it, and more like a mini-waterfall instead. Totally sick.

“Here comes one,” Barry yells over the roar of the water, as if we can’t already see the raft for ourselves. It slips over the steep drop-off with a splash and the people inside cheer.

“Awesome,” Dillon says, nudging his shoulder into my arm. I would have to agree.

Seconds later, a kayak approaches. It wobbles but makes it over the drop unscathed. I’m starting to think this won’t be so bad.

“See?” Barry yells. “Nothin’ to it.”

Only the next raft hits the churning water and flips end over end, sending the seven occupants flying into the river. Oh, damn. Holding a hand to my forehead, I shield my eyes from the sun and watch their helmets bob along in the current. No one seems hurt, at least.

“And if we don’t make it,” Barry continues with a grin, “no big deal either!”

Two more kayakers, who obviously know what they’re doing, pass through without so much as a bobble, and Barry must think we’ve seen enough because he asks if we’re ready to give it a try ourselves.

Delilah and Trista are wide-eyed, and Becka looks a little greenish, but Luke, Dillon, and I raise our fists in the air and let out a war cry.

“Remember, we’re going to aim for the space between those two big rocks,” Barry reminds us once we’re back in the raft. “Just like most of the other boats have done.”

We maneuver to the left side of the river to wait for the other groups to clear out. Then, when Barry gives the signal, we paddle as hard as we can to the right.

“Hold ’er straight!” Barry yells, but the water is already pulling us forward at an angle, and our paddling is useless against the force of the current.

How the hell did those kayakers make this look easy? I try to paddle even harder but realize we’re totally going to crash. Looks like Dillon is going to get his wish after all. My side of the raft hits the drop-off first, and I let out a scream, half terror, half exhilaration. The back part of the raft soars skyward and I’m launched into the air. I land face first in the water, my heart hammering against my rib cage.

After I surface, I belt out a laugh. We freakin’ made it. We ran the Sluice. Who cares if we didn’t exactly do it in our raft? I turn to search for the rest of my crew. Two white helmets bob along ten feet behind me—the twins—and their parents aren’t far behind. Barry’s somehow already made it to shore up ahead. He tugs the raft back onto the rocks, pointing to his destination and indicating we should meet him there. I give him a thumbs-up.

“Man, that was such a rush,” I say to Dillon, who has managed to catch up with me now.

“That was a massive fail!” he replies, but he’s grinning from ear to ear. Delilah’s smiling, too, but she’s probably just relieved it’s all over.

“Wait,” I say, scanning the