Page 27 of A Surefire Love
“What do you know about ADHD?”
Even her speaking voice had a soothing quality to it. He forced himself to concentrate on the content of the question instead of the melody. “Some basics. Kids with it can’t sit still or pay attention.”
“Turns out, it’s more complex than that. Have you ever heard of rejection sensitive dysphoria?”
“Should I have?”
“RSD is common among people with ADHD, which isn’tjust a kid thing, by the way. RSD is when someone is extremely sensitive to correction or rejection. Small things have a huge emotional impact.”
She must have Mercy in mind. Ahead of them, the girl pointed at some dead trees that nearly blocked the stream as it turned. While talking to Carter, he’d missed the outfitter’s routine speech about the S-curve, but he’d heard it on other trips. Soon, they’d reach the beach. In the meantime, he’d do his best to navigate a conversation that was at least as tricky as this section of the creek. “I don’t think sensitivity is the determining factor in diagnosis. I can always tell if Tate hasn’t had his meds because he can’t stop moving. He literally bounces off the walls.”
“Boys are different,” Blaze said. “Girls are more likely to have the inattentive type, which can come across as chatty, distracted, forgetful, or even depressed.”
“Mercy’s depressed?”
“No …” Blaze drew out the word. “But she is chatty, distracted, and forgetful. Three out of four is a lot. One of her teachers suggested it. ADHD would explain some things, like how hard it is to get her to do her homework and chores and her friendship troubles.”
Speaking of chatty. Thankfully, she forgot to paddle while talking. Following Nolan’s approach, Anson guided the canoe toward the right bank to avoid the first tree. Getting around the second would require a quick left.
Mercy’s teacher must’ve had reasons to mention ADHD, but it wasn’t the only possibility. “At age eleven, those are all pretty common problems to have.”
Blaze glanced back, a frown tipping the corner of her mouth.
“I’m not saying it’s impossible. I don’t know her like you do.”
The current flowed through the branches of the second tree and vied to take them with. He dragged his paddle to veer left. She returned to paddling—switching sides again. He compensated by lowering his paddle farther into the water.
The navigable waterway between the branches was only a few feet across. Hadley called out complaints when Nolan cut a little close to the tip of the second tree.
Blaze’s silence didn’t seem good. “Why do you want it to be ADHD?” he asked.
“You know what I said about being a surefire failure?” She rested her paddle across the bow and swatted at an insect. “That was … It’s just that things are hard for both of us in some of the same ways. I don’t think it’s a lack of effort. I’d like some explanation besides that we’re not cut out for li—” She shrieked and bolted to her feet.
Her paddle flew into the stream. The canoe lurched. He leaned the opposite way but couldn’t right it. With a cry, she splashed into the creek shoulder first. A second later, cold liquid engulfed him. He fought to the surface. He had a promise to keep.
11
Blaze sputtered, suspended in the murky water. The life vest kept her head above the surface, but panic seeped into her lungs.
The current nudged her toward the branches of one of the dead trees. She kicked, desperate to go the other way. Didn’t work. Her foot struck something hard. Then pain stabbed her other knee. Underwater branches?
A soft object slid against her thigh, and she screamed. Jerking away, she jabbed the sole of her foot into something pointy.
This was a nightmare come true. She had to get out.Now. Panting, she flailed her arms, but there was nothing to grab onto.God, please.
She kicked again and hit something solid but not painful. The object pressed against her back. Something had wrapped around her. She swatted to push it off.
“Easy. You’re okay.” Anson’s breath warmed her wet ear.
He was holding her. Solid, calm, and ready to make good on his vow.
Her lungs sucked in their first full breath since she’d hit the water. “Thank God.”
His free arm stirred a wave. He kicked—somehow without hitting her—and his body tipped back, bringing her along. Two powerful strokes later, her feet cleared the branches. He shifted, facing her backward as the current bumped their upside-down canoe against the fallen tree.
If not for Anson, she’d be stuck there too, probably trying to figure out how to climb to shore without impaling herself on the tree. She wrapped her hands around his arm. Between her fingers, hair bleached blond by the sun glimmered. His wet skin covered firm muscles. How difficult was it to haul another person through the water?
His body shifted again, and her leg dragged against the bottom. Before she got her bearings, he propped her into a seated position on the sand, water lapping around her arms.
