"BETRAY HIM!" Finn yells at me. "SWITZERLAND CANNOT STAND!"
"I don't think that's how neutrality works!"
"IT IS NOW!"
We both turn on Holt, splashing him from either side, and he takes it for about five seconds before he retaliates with asingle, perfectly aimed splash that absolutely drenches us both. Finn and I sputter in shock.
"Did he just—"
"He destroyed us," I say, wiping water from my eyes. "We've been destroyed."
"REMATCH!" Finn declares. "Best two out of three!"
"We didn't win the first one," I point out.
"Semantics!"
Finn tries to dunk me, I get him instead, and we both surface sputtering and laughing. Someone's playing music from a truck—something upbeat and summery—and the whole scene feels like one of those movie montages where everything is golden-lit and easy, where problems don't exist and the world is just this: cold water and hot sun and people you're starting to love.
"Okay, truce," Finn gasps, holding up both hands in surrender. "Truce. I'm going to jump off the cliff and establish dominance over this entire swimming hole. Everyone will know my name. There will be legends."
"There will be a belly flop," I call after him as he swims toward the rocky path. "That's the legend!"
He climbs up with bare feet finding holds without looking, and stands at the edge of the ledge. He spreads his arms wide. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" he shouts to everyone and no one. "WITNESS ME!"
"FINN, NO ONE CARES!" someone yells from the shore.
"THEY WILL WHEN THEY SEE THIS!"
And then he launches himself off—arms flailing, legs kicking like he's trying to run on air, zero grace whatsoever. He screams the whole way down—not a scared scream, just pure energy—and hits the water with a massive splash.
When he surfaces, I'm already clapping, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. "Ten out of ten for commitment to disaster!"
"Thank you, thank you." He swims over, doing a little bow in the water. "I accept this award. I'd like to thank the academy, my parents, and the concept of poor life choices."
"Your turn, Scout!" he adds, pointing at me. "You're up!"
"What? No. I'll just—"
"Scout." He gestures toward the cliff with that expression that says he knows exactly what I'm thinking and also that I'm absolutely doing this. "You're gonna stand there and tell me you don't want to? After that FLAWLESS demonstration of technique I just gave you?"
I look up at the ledge. Fifteen feet doesn't seem that high, but from down here, it feels significant. Very significant. My heart's already picking up speed.
"You're scared," Finn says, not mocking—just stating a fact with that gentle honesty that makes it okay to admit.
"Little bit. Maybe a medium bit."
Holt swims closer. "You don't have to."
But there's something in me that wants to. That wants to prove—to myself, maybe, or to them, or to the universe—that I can do scary things. That I can jump and trust the water will catch me.
"If I die, tell my mom I loved her and also that she was wrong about everything."
Finn grins. "Deal. I'll give a beautiful eulogy. Very moving. People will cry."
"Make sure you mention that I was brave," I add, already swimming toward the path.
"And also slightly unhinged!" he calls after me. "It's part of your charm!"
