awful sensation as she fell. The water seemed to lift her. But she couldn’t find her feet, and she couldn’t breathe. Her arms flailed, the water was rushing and dark and her ears pounded and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t…
DIANA SAT UP WITH A START, gasping, sweating. She rubbed her hand over her face, felt the wet residue of tears.
She was in a tent, she realized slowly. She was camping. Had been white-water rafting. Exhausted, upset, she’d collapsed onto her sleeping bag and fallen asleep.
“Just a nightmare,” she told herself. No doubt it had been triggered by falling out of the stupid boat. She hadn’t thought of that awful trip her mother had taken her on for a long time. They’d gone to the Sacramento River with a bunch of her junkie friends. She’d hoped it would be such a good time, and it had turned horrible. A nearby fisherman had gone in and rescued her, helping Diana cough out the water. As soon as the fisherman left them, her mother had hit her for going in the water.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Wow. If her life were a movie, she’d probably hit the director for being so frickin’ obvious with the theme.
Just get through this.
She sat up, stretching out the kinks. Man, was she hungry. There was supposed to be some sort of barbecue—maybe she’d slept through it?
“Diana?” A tentative whisper.
It was Finn. Of course it was Finn. “What do you want?”
He opened her tent, popping his head inside. “Thought you might want some dinner.”
She shrugged, considered denying how hungry she was just to spite him. But not only was that petty, it was an outright and obvious lie. Her stomach started yowling plaintively. “All right, thanks.”
She stepped out of the tent, saw that he’d set up a little table for one, complete with lantern and candle. She was reluctantly charmed, but didn’t say anything as she sat down in the cloth camp chair. She’d eat quickly, acknowledge his effort, then go back to bed. They’d be on a plane soon enough, anyway…on to her next challenge.
Disneyland, she thought. What was I thinking?
“Where is everybody?” she asked instead, scanning the campsite. She’d set her tent up a bit farther away than the others had, as Finn had done…she wasn’t really the social type. Still, all the tents were closed up and quiet.
“They’re asleep,” Finn said, watching her as she bit into her hamburger. It was delicious.
“Really?” she asked, around a bite. “I thought they’d be partying it up all night.”
Did she always sound that bitter?
“Nah. The river wipes you out. I’ve seen this happen dozens of times.” He took a deep breath, grabbed a chair and sat down across from her. “Listen, I want to apologize.”
She’d just taken a big bite of burger, so she struggled, chewing. “Frr wha?”
He didn’t so much as smile. “For earlier. Actually, for hazing you at all,” he said. “I thought you said you liked the water.”
She managed to swallow. “I do,” she clarified, snagging some potato chips. “I like sitting by the ocean, sipping wine, or drinking a cup of coffee at a lakeside cabin. But almost drowning?” She grimaced as the flash-memory of water rushing around her came to mind, the sensation of suffocation hitting her. “Not really my cup of tea.”
“God, I’m such a jerk,” he muttered.
She stared at him, surprised at the sincerity in his voice. “You were hazing me. The whole point of hazing someone is breaking them down, isn’t it? To see if they can handle it…and if they can’t, you cut them loose. That makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said, looking appalled. “Hazing, for us, means…well, seeing if you can handle getting pushed out of your comfort zone, or if you’re going to cry and whine and bitch. It doesn’t mean torturing someone or terrifying them, or making them sick.”
“It wasn’t pleasant, but I’m not sick, and I certainly don’t
DIANA SAT UP WITH A START, gasping, sweating. She rubbed her hand over her face, felt the wet residue of tears.
She was in a tent, she realized slowly. She was camping. Had been white-water rafting. Exhausted, upset, she’d collapsed onto her sleeping bag and fallen asleep.
“Just a nightmare,” she told herself. No doubt it had been triggered by falling out of the stupid boat. She hadn’t thought of that awful trip her mother had taken her on for a long time. They’d gone to the Sacramento River with a bunch of her junkie friends. She’d hoped it would be such a good time, and it had turned horrible. A nearby fisherman had gone in and rescued her, helping Diana cough out the water. As soon as the fisherman left them, her mother had hit her for going in the water.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Wow. If her life were a movie, she’d probably hit the director for being so frickin’ obvious with the theme.
Just get through this.
She sat up, stretching out the kinks. Man, was she hungry. There was supposed to be some sort of barbecue—maybe she’d slept through it?
“Diana?” A tentative whisper.
It was Finn. Of course it was Finn. “What do you want?”
He opened her tent, popping his head inside. “Thought you might want some dinner.”
She shrugged, considered denying how hungry she was just to spite him. But not only was that petty, it was an outright and obvious lie. Her stomach started yowling plaintively. “All right, thanks.”
She stepped out of the tent, saw that he’d set up a little table for one, complete with lantern and candle. She was reluctantly charmed, but didn’t say anything as she sat down in the cloth camp chair. She’d eat quickly, acknowledge his effort, then go back to bed. They’d be on a plane soon enough, anyway…on to her next challenge.
Disneyland, she thought. What was I thinking?
“Where is everybody?” she asked instead, scanning the campsite. She’d set her tent up a bit farther away than the others had, as Finn had done…she wasn’t really the social type. Still, all the tents were closed up and quiet.
“They’re asleep,” Finn said, watching her as she bit into her hamburger. It was delicious.
“Really?” she asked, around a bite. “I thought they’d be partying it up all night.”
Did she always sound that bitter?
“Nah. The river wipes you out. I’ve seen this happen dozens of times.” He took a deep breath, grabbed a chair and sat down across from her. “Listen, I want to apologize.”
She’d just taken a big bite of burger, so she struggled, chewing. “Frr wha?”
He didn’t so much as smile. “For earlier. Actually, for hazing you at all,” he said. “I thought you said you liked the water.”
She managed to swallow. “I do,” she clarified, snagging some potato chips. “I like sitting by the ocean, sipping wine, or drinking a cup of coffee at a lakeside cabin. But almost drowning?” She grimaced as the flash-memory of water rushing around her came to mind, the sensation of suffocation hitting her. “Not really my cup of tea.”
“God, I’m such a jerk,” he muttered.
She stared at him, surprised at the sincerity in his voice. “You were hazing me. The whole point of hazing someone is breaking them down, isn’t it? To see if they can handle it…and if they can’t, you cut them loose. That makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said, looking appalled. “Hazing, for us, means…well, seeing if you can handle getting pushed out of your comfort zone, or if you’re going to cry and whine and bitch. It doesn’t mean torturing someone or terrifying them, or making them sick.”
“It wasn’t pleasant, but I’m not sick, and I certainly don’t
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