Indian Summer by Tracy Richardson Page B

outward bend of the shore obscures the house so it can’t be seen from where Al and her brothers are fishing. Kaitlyn calls over her shoulder, “Why do you hang out with that old guy? It’s so uncool! I bet you’re glad to be rescued.” Marcie feels her face flush with embarrassment and anger, and she’s glad Kaitlyn can’t see her. Even so, she replies, “No kidding!” enthusiastically, and then feels guilty for not defending Al. He’s her friend! Once again she has mixed feelings about Kaitlyn. On the one hand, it is exciting to be riding on the wave runner without an adult and going to Kaitlyn’s house, which can only be called a mansion, but she also feels guilty, like she’s not only betraying Al and her family, but somehow, herself.
    Kaitlyn pulls the wave runner up next to the dock instead of putting it into the docking station and, after turning off the engine, clips a rope to the front to keep it from drifting. She turns to Marcie, her eyes shining with excitement. “Do you have a bathing suit on under your clothes? You could borrow one of mine—oh, good,” she continueswhen she sees Marcie nodding yes. “I’ve got a great idea. My mom’s not due back home for over an hour. Why don’t we go over to the sandbar for a while?”
    “How will we get there?”
    “The wave runner, of course.”
    “But you said we were just going back to your house,” Marcie says uncertainly.
    “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Anyway, we’ll just go over and see what’s going on. We won’t stay too long, and I’ll be careful.” Seeing Marcie’s hesitation, she adds, “Come on! It’ll be fun. You’re not chicken are you?”
    Actually, that’s exactly how Marcie feels: Chicken. The sandbar is where the older high school and college kids go to hang out on the weekends. You can throw out your anchor and walk on the sandy bottom from boat to boat. It’s like a big block party on busy weekends. She’s been to the sandbar before with her family to swim, usually during the week when it’s not so crowded, but never by herself. She’s not even sure if she’d be allowed to go. However, the risk of being seen as “uncool” outweighs her concern about going. What’s the harm anyway?
    “No, I’m not chicken. You just took me by surprise. Let’s do it!”
    “Great! Here, take off your life jacket for a minute so you can take off your shorts and t-shirt. We won’t look good at the sandbar unless we’re wearing our bathingsuits.” She climbs onto the pier. “Hand me your stuff and I’ll put it under my towel on this chair. No one will notice if they happen to come out here.”
    Kaitlyn climbs back onto the wave runner while Marcie refastens her life jacket. It’s just one of the bunch of jackets her grandparents have in varying sizes for use by all the family and visitors who come to their house over the summer. She grew so much last winter that she can fit into one of the medium adult jackets. In contrast, Kaitlyn’s jacket is a “Bodysheath,” a very expensive brand which is fitted just for her. Kaitlyn unhooks the wave runner from the pier, and Marcie pushes off before Kaitlyn starts the engine.
    The water splashing on Marcie’s legs feels cool and refreshing as they speed along. She had gotten hot sitting at the dock in the sun in her life jacket. They can’t really talk with the wind and water in their faces, so Marcie leans back and grasps the handle behind the seat to hold on. A wave runner is a lot like a motorcycle for the water. It’s propelled by sucking up water and then expelling it forcefully out the back so there isn’t a propeller or “prop” like a motor boat. In some ways this makes a wave runner safer because there’s no risk of injury from the prop, but they can still be dangerous because they go so fast. Almost every summer they hear of a wave runner accident where someone, usually a teenager, was driving too fast and tooclose to another wave runner or a boat and