Jennie

For morning Reflection, everyone gathered on the wooden bleachers to face the rising sun. Birds chirped, blue sky peeked through the treetops. While Gary spoke softly about positive intentions and what the day would bring, nine pairs of feet plus Nayeon's trudged in. At seven-ten, they were the final cabin to arrive, which meant Nayeon would spend her morning cleaning up half-eaten food and used napkins. I couldn't muster any sympathy. She knew the rules.

"Each morning, we'll sing a special song to begin the day," Gary said. "I discovered it earlier this year and thought—that song has a great message. You might've heard it on the radio. 'Shine' by Collective Soul is about the quest for guidance and acceptance. It has religious undertones, but you can sing it however it makes sense to you. But first, I want each cabin to come together and decide what they're grateful for on this beautiful morning. The counselors will share it with the group."

We huddled with the girls, who looked as energized and excited as they had getting on the bus the morning before.

"What are we grateful for?" Ali asked.

"That we don't have to clean up our mess today," Bettina said.

"You're grateful for Bobby Newman," one of the girls teased.

Ali and I looked at each other. "Let's try for something a little deeper," I said. "Any ideas, Ali?"

"How about if we're grateful for each other?" Ali asked. "Friendship."

"Three Musketeers," Katie added. "It's my favorite candy."

"Friendship it is," Ali said.

Gary called everyone's attention back to the front. "Friendship" came up three times before Lisa's turn. "We're grateful for a lot of things," she said, scanning the faces of the boys in her cabin. "But today, we'd like to say our thanks for the release of Mortal Kombat II last month. As a cabin, we agree that this is one of the best things to happen this year so far."

Everyone stayed silent until Gary burst into laughter. "All right. That's a new one. Videogames. I like it. Who wants to go next? Cabin four?"

I glanced at the girls and then at Ali, who nodded and mouthed, Candy.

I sighed. "Cabin four is grateful for . . . Three Musketeers bars." The girls cheered. "And," I added when they'd calmed down, "having someone to share them with."

Gary clapped. "Good one, cabin four."

As it turned out, despite a morning of good intentions, large breakfasts, and lots of laughter, everything came crashing down when I checked our schedule for the day. Right off the bat, we were headed for danger—horseback riding. It wasn't even my fear that bothered me. It was that I'd miss out on sharing it with the girls.

As a group, we walked from the dining hall through dirt and dead grass toward the stables. "Look, there's Bobby Newman," Katie squealed, pointing. I spotted a couple more boys from Lisa's cabin. Then her co-counselor Kirk. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, my eyes followed until they landed on Lisa as she helped a camper up onto a saddle.

"We're paired with them today?" I asked Ali.

"Looks like it."

Now, hanging back at the stable was even worse. I'd not only be missing out on quality time with the girls, but with Lisa as well.

"Want me to stay behind with you?" Ali asked. "I'm sure Lisa and the instructors can handle it."

I turned and squinted at the stables. The horses were beautiful . . . and enormous. If possible, they seemed even bigger than the year before. A small part of me wanted to be brave just so I wouldn't miss this time with Lisa.

"It's okay," I told Ali. "The girls will want you there."

One of the handlers came out of the stable in cowboy boots. He waved at the girls. "Who wants to ride a horse?" They screamed and took off running toward him. For a moment, he looked terrified, but quickly recovered. "Okay, okay. Slow down. You don't want to spook the poor things."

"You or the horses?" Ali teased.

Lisa looked up at the commotion. Once she'd secured her camper, she came over to us. "I've never ridden a horse. Believe that?"

That she'd never climbed on the back of a wild animal and expected it do what she said? Yes, I believed that. What sane person would? I bit my thumbnail. "Me, neither."

"It'll be a first for us both, then. Come on."

Ali followed, but I stayed where I was. Horses on the ground didn't frighten me—it was the thought of getting on and letting go. What stopped the horse from doing whatever the hell it wanted? What if it suddenly had some kind of psychotic break? I'd never broken a bone, and I didn't want to start today.

The handler came out with a shiny, black horse, scanned the crowd, and started toward me. "You're going to ride Betsy Junior," he said.

I looked around to make sure he wasn't talking to someone else. "Me?"

"She's a little on the wild side, but she's not as bad as her mom. Better if a counselor takes her."

I tried to back away, but my feet were suddenly made of lead. Betsy had black eyes and didn't blink, as if she were trying to send me a message—touch me and I'll buck you into a tree. Betsy Junior neighed, a sinister laugh. "I can't," I said. I was too young to die. I'd never even been kissed or learned how to drive. "I'm going to sit this one out."

"What's wrong?" Lisa asked from behind me, and I jumped. Where had she come from?

"I can't do it."

"Why not?"

"She's scared," the handler said. "I see it in her eyes. Betsy gets the same look when I bring her around all these kids."

I gulped. "I'll stay here and wait for you guys."

"You sure?" the instructor asked. "You could ride with me."

I'd only just met the guy. He might do this for a living, but what did that even mean? He could've been hired yesterday. Maybe he'd been an insurance salesman who'd gotten laid off and had decided owning a pair of cowboy boots qualified him for this job. "I'm sure."

"Suit yourself. Looks like Betsy Junior's safe another day." He led Betsy back to the stable.

I turned and found Lisa looking at me as if she were waiting for something. "What?" I asked.

"You know what."

"No I don't."

"You got out of the Ferris wheel, but not this one. I'm going to make you get on a horse."

"But—"

"Ride with me."

My breath caught in my throat. But that would mean being pressed up against her for an hour. An entire hour. I'd probably faint—and fall off the horse. And get trampled. "But you just said you've never done it."

"That guy gave me a quick lesson. I'm a natural sportsman." She smiled crookedly. "I've got this, Jennie."

"It's okay. I really don't even want to."

With the sun high in the sky, her dark eyes were nearly black. "You told me you weren't afraid to get dirty."

"It's not that. What if the horse goes crazy and bucks me off?"

"Then you'll fall, and we'll get you up and dust you off."

"What if I break something?"

"What if? You tell me."

I opened my mouth. I'd expected her to tell me that wouldn't happen. That she'd protect me. If I fell off, I might hurt myself and have to go to the infirmary, maybe even the hospital. But that was true for all the girls and boys around me. Which meant now, it wasn't just about riding a horse. It was about proving what I could handle. How much hurt I could take and keep going. "Okay," I said without an ounce of confidence. "I'll ride with you."

"Today," she said. "And next time, you'll do it yourself."

I didn't believe I could, but she didn't need to know that. I nodded. "Which horse?"

"Betsy Senior. Come on."

My knees nearly gave out. Of course Lisa's first time on a horse would be on the wildest one. I supposed if I was going to ride a Betsy at all, it might as well be with Lisa. I followed her.

She tested the stirrup with her boot. "Put your foot in and get on."

I looked down and back up at her. "On the horse?"

"Trust me, Birdy." She gathered the reins. "I just did this with my own campers and a couple of yours."

My heart slowed a little hearing her nickname for me. As soon as I stuck my tennis shoe in the stirrup, Lisa lifted me onto the horse by my waist. "Christ, Jennie," she said, adjusting my foot in the stirrup. Her head came all the way to my shoulder. "You weigh the same as a ten-year-old."

It wasn't true, but it probably felt that way to Lisa, who could lift a horse without a struggle.

Okay, maybe not a horse. But she was strong.

Lisa turned to walk away, and panic gripped me. I reached out and grabbed the first thing I could, nearly toppling over as I latched onto her t-shirt. "Where are you going?"

She stopped in her tracks, mostly because I had her in a death grip. When she saw me lopsided in the saddle, she laughed. "You know animals can sense fear, right?"

She wasn't helping. "That's a myth."

"Is it?" She engulfed my fisted hand with her, but didn't pull me off. "I was just going to make sure everyone got on, but if you think you need me more . . ."

I did. I needed her. Why didn't I get to be selfish every now and then like everyone else? She would stay if I asked her to. Most of the girls had ridden horses before, some had even taken lessons. But I hadn't come here to be with Lisa—I'd come for them. I loosened my fist, and she held my hand until I'd righted myself on the horse.

"Two minutes," she said. "If she moves, pull on the reins and say 'whoa.'"

Lisa checked in with each of her boys and my girls, too. The way she made eye contact with each one and listened to whatever they said made me wonder why my dad wasn't like this with me when I got scared. He would've just told me to get on and quit whining. Did Lisa get that from her dad? Where was Mr. Manoban? What did he do for a living? How often did Lisa see him? After she'd shut down my questions about her sister, I wasn't sure I could ask. But if Lisa had become the person she was because of her dad, I wanted to meet and thank him.

Betsy Senior neighed and took a few steps, jolting me back to reality. I tugged on the reins.

Lisa looked over and mouthed, Whoa.

"Whoa," I said. Betsy stamped a hoof and settled.

It took longer than two minutes, but Lisa returned once it was time to go. "You want to drive?"

"No. Will you? Please."

She scratched her chin. "I didn't think this through. You might need to get off so I can get on first. Can you do it?"

If it meant I wouldn't have to be in charge of this thing, then yes. She helped me down, hoisted herself onto the horse, and jerked her head for me to get on again. Tentatively, I put my foot in the stirrup again. I had no way of pulling myself up, so Lisa offered her elbow. I used it to slide onto the saddle behind her.

"See?" she said. "You're a natural. "Ready?"

But now, what was I supposed to do with my hands? Her nearness robbed me of everything from sense to speech. Her camp t-shirt, still creased, smelled like plastic and a hint of sweat.

"You might want to hold on," she said.

There was only one way to hold on. She was asking me to put my arms around her—just like that? As if it wasn't something I'd dreamed of a hundred times? It was impossible that she wouldn't instantly know the depth of my feelings just by this simple hug. She'd feel the pounding of my heart against her back. My hairline began to sweat. I ached to do it, but I seriously couldn't bring myself to move an inch. I was scared stiff.

"I'm okay," I said.

"Suit yourself." Lisa clucked her tongue, squeezed Betsy's sides with her feet, and she jolted forward. I seized onto her t-shirt to keep from falling. She pulled back on the reins, laughing. "Whoa, Betsy. Whoa," she said. She steadied into a walk. "It might take a few tries."

My hands might as well be on her now. I had the fabric of her shirt in two fists, and if I released it, I might fall. Probably. It was likely. I didn't want to fall. I didn't want to let go of Lisa when I finally had her. I eased my grip and slowly, with appreciation for every detail, slid my arms around her middle. I clasped my hands together and scooted closer, my inner thighs pressing against her legs. My pulse beat everywhere, especially the places we touched. And I felt her, too. I couldn't tell if the fast, rhythmic ba-boom against my palms was just the robust heartbeat of a healthy human or if she was feeling as euphoric and turned on and nervous as I was.

As everyone started down the path, Lisa and I pulled up the rear while one handler took the lead. Ali and the other instructor rode alongside the kids.

Lisa cleared her throat and asked over her shoulder, "Are you comfortable?"

My chest was mashed against her, my butt awkwardly pushed out to keep just a little distance between us so she wouldn't think I was trying to get too cozy. Worst of all, I couldn't see over her since she was so tall, and I didn't know where to put my face. It didn't matter. I sighed. "Yes."

"Did you fall off a horse as a kid or something?"

"No. I never even got on one."

"So this is like the Ferris wheel?" she asked. "It's not really a height thing."

"No. My friend had a treehouse growing up and I went in there sometimes. I get on the roof at home."

"The roof?"

"From my room. I can climb out the window."

"Hmm." Her hum vibrated my body. "So it must be things that move. Not being able to control what could happen. Have you ever been on a plane?"

Those were worst of all. Talk about having no control. You could die a million different ways on a plane and most of it wouldn't be instant. If it started to fall out of the sky, you'd have to sit there, knowing you were going to die. Just waiting. I shuddered. "I had to as a kid when we took vacations. I didn't have a choice. I think I cried through my entire first flight and after that, my parents just gave me something."

"That surprises me," she said. "I know you're brave."

Me, brave? I wasn't so sure. "Why do you think that?"

"Just little things. Like when we went to that party before the fair, and Nayeon pressured you to go in. You said no when most teenagers would've done the opposite."

"That wasn't bravery," I said. "I just don't like those things—drinking, flirting, acting stupid because they think it's cute or funny."

"A lot of people don't like those things, but they do them anyway. Because people make them think it's cool. They back down. They're the cowards." Lisa placed her hand over mine as I held onto her stomach. My throat went dry, my body tingling in places I didn't know could tingle. "Take the reins a minute," she said.

"I can't even see." That was a lie. I saw Lisa, and Lisa was all I saw.

"You don't need to, because I can." She removed my hand to place a rein in it, then did the same with the other. "There you go. You're a pro."

I wasn't doing a single thing but holding the reins. She could've been steering me into the lake, and I'd have no idea. For some reason, it was important to her that I do this on my own.

"Hey, Jake," Lisa called out. "Mike. Stop screwing around. This isn't a videogame. These are real animals."

"Sorry, Lisa," a couple boys said.

"You're good with them. I can tell they look up to you." My back started to ache from keeping some distance between us. "Do you want kids?"

She took the reins again. "Not really. No. Not right now."

I had nowhere to put my hands. "I do, one day."

"You're still a kid yourself."

"Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I'm a kid." I wrapped my arms around her again, this time pulling myself forward until we were snug, hardly any space left between us. "And I'm getting older every day."

She straightened up, and I rested my cheek against her back, closing my eyes, inhaling the scent of the pine trees around us. We rocked together with the steady bump-and-grind of the horse's hooves on the dirt path. The fresh morning air kept me cool, even while my body warmed where we touched. My jeans caught on her, but her t-shirt was soft under my bare arms. Based on what I'd heard from kids at school, this was the way I imagined it felt to be drunk or high, to reach a level of happiness and bliss that could only be achieved with help. Arms, chest, cheek. My entire self pressed against Lisa's solid body—that was my drug of choice.

Was sixteen too young to fall in love? I might've thought so before Lisa. Could she love me back, someone whose seven years older? I was sure if she did, she'd never admit it. But I would wait for her. Even I understood that for a while, ours ages mattered. There was no right now for us. Eighteen was a lifetime away. That was two more whole school years, another long summer. It was millions of breaths that would inevitably catch in my throat around her and thousands of pages read across so many books and hundreds of long, sun-soaked California days. But the wait would be, without a doubt, worth it.

The horse slowed. I opened my eyes but didn't lift my head. We were at the lake now. A couple cabins were canoeing. Because she was as familiar to me as my own reflection, but also because she was yelling across the water at some of her girls, my gaze went straight to Nayeon.

Her canoe rocked, and for a second, I thought she might fall in. She grabbed the edges, steadied herself, and sat. Her campers pointed at the parade of horses, waving to us. Nayeon shielded her eyes.

I turned my head away, resting my other cheek against Lisa's back as I tightened my hold on her. Nayeon didn't know what she had, what she could have.

As much as it frustrated me, I was thankful for that.