Page 39 of The Chaperones

“What are you laughing at?”

Javi stops laughing. The boat rocks as he tenses. I want to reach out and hug him, but it would tip the boat, and worse, it would embarrass him in front of Lily.

“Lil, enough,” Dave says. “It’s only water.”

“I want to go back,” she whines. “Now.”

“You’ve been talking about kayaking all week.”

“And now I realize how boring it is.”

I glance at Charles, expecting to communicate wordlessly with him about how bratty Lily is being. He’s in a daze, staring blankly at the kelp bobbing in the water.

“We’re not calling it quits because I accidentally splashed you while we’re out on the ocean.”

“You did it on purpose.”

Dave shrugs, then splashes his daughter again. She screams, and I don’t even feel myself do it. My oar cuts through the surface, pulling up water that soaks Lily. She swats at it like it’s a bird, forgetting that her paddle is in her hands. It hits her dad’s side, knocking him off balance. Their kayak tips over so slowly that they should be able to prevent it at any point. They can’t, and before we know it, both Dave and Lily are in the ocean.

“Hold on to the boat,” our guide calls as he paddles out from under the pier and glides toward us. “Don’t try to get back in. Just hold on.”

The guide weaves between our boats until he is close enough to Dave and Lily to flip over their boat and steady it against his. Together, he and Dave try to help Lily into the boat.

“Lie back,” the guide instructs. She doesn’t listen, instead trying to pull herself into the kayak, which causes her to fall back into the water. This happens three times before she’s able to hold on to the far side of the boat so her dad can push her up. The boat shifts with Dave’s weight as he starts to climb in after her.

Lily screams, “Dad, you’re going to make me fall again.”

She keeps yelling at him, but he manages to get back in. When he pulls his wet shorts away from his legs, they release a gallon of ocean water.

As Lily and Dave catch their breath, they both gawk at me. Even Javi wordlessly pleads, What have you done?

I open and close my mouth, trying to come up with something, anything to say, as shocked as everyone else is by my actions.

Our silence is broken by a loud laugh. It’s Charles, who is cracking up. Dave’s eyes dart between us, quickly growing irritated.

“Nothing like a little excitement to start the trip. All good?” the guide asks Dave.

“I want to go back.” Lily’s eyes well. Her lips quiver. I can see how much effort it takes her to keep from crying. Suddenly, I’m hit by how young she is. Like Javi, she’s a child. I, on the other hand, am not.

“Sweetie, I’m very sorry. I don’t know why I . . . I think I got swept up in the moment. It’s no excuse. I’m very sorry.”

Lily won’t look at me, and Dave won’t stop looking at me. I don’t like the person reflected in his expression.

I say again, “I’m really, really sorry.”

“Daddy,” she whispers. “Please.”

“Hey, George?” Dave calls to the guide. I’m hit with more guilt, because unlike Dave, I didn’t bother to learn our guide’s name. I’ve been referring to him by his role. “Lily and I are going to quit while we’re ahead. All right if we head back?”

“Let me go with you.” George tells us to wait in the kelp for him to return.

We watch their kayaks dip under the pier, then disappear from view.

Javi slaps at the kelp with his paddle. I’m tempted to tell him to stop, only he isn’t hurting it, just making a whacking sound that unsettles me with each hit.

Otherwise, it’s silent enough to hear the seabirds, the ferry’s engine as it idles by the dock, and Charles’s mischievous laugh when he can’t control himself.

“I can’t believe I did that,” I say.

“Are you kidding? That’s the most amazing thing that’s happened today. And we saw a fox take a poop at the campsite.” Charles uses his oar to scoop up some plasticky debris in the shape of a seashell.

“And sea lions,” Lei adds.

“Still, that was completely inappropriate of me.” I glance at Javi, who continues to focus on the surface of the kelp.

Charles inspects the strange skin, its concentric rings like lifelines on a tree, then tosses it back into the sea. “Can I ask what that was about?”

“Mom drama,” I say. “Not the fun kind.”

“That’s a shame.”

We remain quiet until George reappears from under the dock and heads our way. He glides past us, and we trail him along the shoreline.

Charles paddles away. When he’s almost out of earshot, he says, in a mafia voice meant to make me laugh, “Whatever happened, she had it coming.”

As we follow Charles and Lei into the open waters, I realize I’m not as alone as I feel. I simply chose the wrong friend.