A pause. “Even sex?”
“Especiallysex.”
The boy hesitated, then exhaled and gave a quick nod. “Cool.”
Joshua smiled and blew out a long breath. The first wall had come down ... he hoped.
The lake was calm,a shimmering stretch of glass reflecting the afternoon sky. The storm had finally passed, leaving the air fresh and crisp. Colin stood on the dock, arms crossed, eyeing the campers assembled before him.
“All right, Camp Pride champions,” he announced. “Time to learn the fine art of rowing.”
One of the campers, a lanky kid named Ethan, raised a hand. “What happens if we tip over?”
“You stand up,” Colin offered dryly.
Ethan blinked. “Wait. It’s that shallow?”
Colin shrugged. “Depends. How tall are you?”
There was a pause as Ethan peered at the water, then down at himself, then at the boat.
The rowboat was a sturdy, timeworn craft—broad-bottomed and built for balance more than speed. Its faded green paint was chipped along the edges, revealing sun-bleached wood beneath, worn smooth by years of use. Metal oarlocks creaked faintly when the long wooden oars settled into place, their handles polished by countless hands. Inside, the boat held three narrow bench seats and a scuffed floorboard that bore the faint outlines of old water stains and muddy footprints. When it moved across the water, it did so with an easy, unhurried grace, leaving soft ripples behind like a trail of secrets.
Ethan touched the craft with his foot and shot Colin a quick grimace. “I think I’m good.”
A shorter camper, Nico, peered into the water, trying to estimate its depth like a kid checking if he was tall enough for a rollercoaster.
“Great,” he muttered. “I’m gonna drown.”
Colin pointed to his life jacket. “You’d have to work hard to drown while you’re wearing one of those.”
Nico glanced down and grinned. “Oh! Gotcha!”
“Especially with me standing right here,” Colin added. “I’d reach in and haul you out of the water …” he grinned and winked “…probably.”
The first group climbed in—four campers plus Colin. Alex hesitated, hanging back, his fingers gripping one of the dock’s poles.
“You coming with?” Colin asked, keeping his tone casual.
Alex hesitated a second longer, then nodded, stepping carefully into the boat.
Once they were all seated, Colin grabbed the oars. “OK, first lesson—balance. Don’t shift too much, don’t lean over the side, and?—”
THUMP.
Nico had barely sat down when the boat rocked wildly.
“WHOA—”
“Sitstill,” Colin cautioned, catching the movement before it turned into a full-blown disaster. “Unless youwantto take an unscheduled swim.” When the campers were all seated in the rowboat, Colin, once again, pointed to his life jacket. “You never,everget into one of these boats without a life jacket. And if anyone does, and I find out about it? They will be in deep,deepdoo-doo, I kid you not.” He patted the orange jacket. “If youshouldtip the boat or fall into the water, this little orange wonder will keep you afloat. The lake’s not deep. Most of you can just stand up and walk to shore! And one last rule: Youneveruse one of the boats or go swimming in this lake without a counselor present.”
Next, he demonstrated how to hold the oars. “Rowing is about rhythm. It’s not just brute strength—it’s control. I row, then you match my pace. Got it?”
A few nods. A boy named Mason was already miming the motion like he was born to row.
Colin dipped the oars into the water and started a slow, steady stroke. The campers followed, somewhat in sync … except for Nico, whose rhythm was slightly off.
Colin side-eyed him. “A little slower, Nico.”
