Page 50 of The Ripple Effect

He meticulously recaps the epoxy before placing the twin tubes on the hull with a movement that smacks of finality. “I’m sorry, Stellar. This isn’t what you signed up for, and I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to leave the Love Boat. All I ask is that you give me time to find your replacement.” He sounds tired. Defeated.

I imagined so many ways this business could fail—ways I might not give enough or be enough.

I never dreamed it would betakenfrom me. I never imagined watching Fisher paddling away beside Renee the way Iwatched my dad’s taillights turn the corner, my mom in the seat next to him.

Everything I hoped for—the money, the security, the soul-feedingsomethingLiz wanted me to look for—dangles out of reach, like that horrible fucking guy has my dreams on a string and is jerking them away every time I jump.

I press my fists to my face, knuckles mashing my eyebrows. “People like Fisher always win,always. I can never beat the assholes, no matter how I try.”

And Lyle’s not helping me fight. He’s just letting everything go. Lettingmego.

Anger floods my heart, pumping through my limbs in a muddy maroon tide. I need to move, tire it out, cool it down. And the river’s right there, calm and cold. I charge in, shoes and all, so I can bounce around in the shallows shaking my arms.

“Stellar,” Lyle says, wading in after me with a look of alarm in his mossy eyes, but I wave him away. I can’t let him touch me. Ican’t, because I might spread this to him.

Worse, Iwantto spread this to him, because I’m right, and he’s delusional. I want him to stop being goddamnkindand letting things go. He needs to fight for this company. I need him to hold on tosomething, for once.

I need him to hold on to me.

And I’m afraid he can’t hold on to anything. He’s not even angry with Fisher for convincing Renee Garner that his theft is better than Lyle’s creation. We’re in trouble, bad trouble, and I have to—

“I have to go for a run,” I say, pulling out of his reach.

“Is that why you run?” he asks, concern etched across his forehead. “You literally run away from whatever’s bothering you?”

“I run back again,” I snap. “Running helps. It keeps me out of jail. It gives me the strength to control one thing in this world, even if it’s only me. Even if it’s only the desire to go around stealing milk. Or pushing people into the water.” I imagine my hands on Fisher’s kayak, strong enough to flip him and hold him upside down, so he has to abandon his boatandthe idea he stole.

“Why would you want to push someone in the water?” He doesn’t sound horrified or judgy, just curious.

I shift from foot to foot, like I’m still thinking of bolting, but also thinking of staying. “Forjustice, Lyle. To show the assholes some consequences.” I kick the water, miserable. “But I can’t. I’ll never have that power. Not socially, not physically.”

Water curls around my feet, no warmer than it has to be to keep flowing. It never yields, not one degree, and never will, not until the glaciers that feed it are gone.

I wish I were half as strong. You don’t fuck with the river.

I look over my shoulder, expecting Lyle to end this conversation. He’ll say something about energy or balance and head back to the campfire. But he tucks his thumbs in the pockets of his shorts and waits. The warm western sky touches him with liquid gold, underlining the shadow on his T-shirt where his bone necklace hides, lighting up his freckled collarbones, glowing from his hair.

I can’t be imagining the look on his face, like he wants to chase me even when I’m furious and freaking out. As if helikesme when I’m angry—wants me to march out of the river, climb up on a log, and kiss him hard.

“You could pushmein the water, if you needed to.” God, the softness in his voice. Withstanding his compassion is the hardest thing I do around here.

I set my jaw, trying to set my soul along with it. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too strong. Too big. I could work out for a million years and you’d still be twice my size. I don’t want to feel stupid when I push and you don’t fall down.”

He wades closer, catching my hand and bringing it to his chest. I can’t help spreading my fingers into the soft cotton of his T-shirt, over the skin and negative spaces I imagine underneath. He looks down at my fingers across his sternum, then back up, a strange light in his eyes. “Try it, Stellar J.”

“Ugh. Fine.” I sigh, making my shove sullen and half-hearted.

The whole time he’s falling, I’m certain he’ll take a step back, grab an overhanging branch, pull up at the last second. I believe it until a sheet of freezing water soaks me up to the nipples.

I scramble to where he bobs in the shallows. “Shit, Lyle! You didn’t have to actually fall down!”

He lets me pull him to sitting. “How else would you have known how strong you are?”

I respect him, so I don’t roll my eyes, but it is a very close call. “Cute, but you let me knock you over. I couldn’t actually do that to someone your size.”

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