“You’re not going to do it. You’re scared!”
I puff out my chest. “I’m not!”
I look around at the crowd that has gathered. My classmates, mostly, but some older kids, too. The river flows fast beneath me, thundering over rocks and sand, and maybe, I think, over the bodies of kids just like me. Panic twists painfully in my chest.
The boys jostle each other, jeering at me. It’s not far down, and I’m a good swimmer.
From the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Henderson approaching, fear flashing across her face. I take a deep breath and jump.