Fearless (2 page)

Perfection in older sisters has been known to cause regurgitation issues in younger sisters. I was fairly sure
that medical studies had proven that.

Maddy fished through her purse, pulled out a stick of gum, and offered it to me. I shook my head. She unwrapped it and shoved it under my nose, but I ignored her. The snowball bush had my undivided attention.

Eric and Mama were climbing into the front seat.

Eric turned the engine on and peeked at us in the rearview mirror. “Ready, ladies?” My stepfather was the sweetest guy in the world. It drove him slightly crazy living in a houseful of females, but he always put up with it.

“Ready!” yelled perky, perfect Madison. She'd given up trying to get me to take the gum and was chewing it herself. We started backing out of the driveway.

We didn't have far to go, just down the street to my best friend Molly's house. Molly threw open the front door and raced down her steps the second we pulled in the driveway.

“Finally! I didn't think you'd ever get here!” She had her sleeping bag under one arm and her pillow under the other. Her parents came out, carrying Molly's trunk by the handles.

“Think we'll get all this gear in?” asked Molly's father when Eric opened our already full trunk. The two of them shifted the duffels, trunks, and bags around while
Molly gave her mother one last hug.

Molly squeezed in between me and Madison. Good. We needed a barrier between us. Too bad the Great Wall of China wouldn't fit in the backseat.

“How many times did you throw up this morning?” she whispered.

“Zero! And I slightly hate you for even bringing it up,” I whispered back.

Molly laughed. “See, you're getting better. I'm glad you didn't get sick. I almost called you to ask.”

In lots of ways, Molly and I are complete opposites. She has brown eyes and super-straight brown hair cut really short and parted in the middle. I have blue eyes, and my blond hair is past my shoulders, with a little bit of curl to it. She's short and stocky; I'm taller and slimmer.

The fathers were finished packing the trunk, so they slammed it closed, and Molly's parents leaned into the open car door and took another ten minutes saying good-bye. Finally we were ready to leave.

After he got in, Eric turned around in the front seat and smiled at all of us. “Next stop, Camp Pine Haven for Girls!” He was the only one in the car who hadn't made a comment about my regurgitation issue. I loved him for that.

We backed out of Molly's driveway and headed
down the street. My stomach felt completely normal now. Hopefully, it wouldn't turn on me later. It's truly sad when you can't even trust your own organs, but my stomach has betrayed me many times. I've learned the hard way to be suspicious of it.

Mama glanced over her shoulder at me. “Feeling okay, honey?” she asked with her forehead crinkled up in worry lines. “We'll turn the air conditioner on and get some cool air blowing on you, all right?”

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. “I'm
fine
.”

I hated the way everyone had to pay so much attention to me. But that was partly my fault for being so abnormal. I have never been good at dealing with new experiences, and it had been a really big deal for me to go away to summer camp in the first place.

At least no one had said anything about the “major meltdown” summer. That was one of the worst experiences of my life.

Two years ago when I was ten, I was all set to go to camp for the first time. Eda Thompson, one of Mama's best friends, is the director of Pine Haven, so how could my mother have two daughters and not send them to her best friend's summer camp?

Madison had started going to camp when she was
eight, and she loved everything about Pine Haven. So of course, everyone expected me to be just like Madison, but I didn't want to go when I was eight. Or nine.

Finally when I was ten, I felt this huge amount of pressure to go. I didn't want to, but I knew Mama, Madison, and Eda were all expecting me to go, and they all kept saying, “Just wait till you get there. You'll love it!”

But about fifty different things worried me. It was for a whole month, so I knew I'd be homesick, even with Maddy there and with Eda looking out for me. I'd be sleeping in a strange bed, away from home. I'd have to swim in a lake that was really deep with water that was dark green and you couldn't see the bottom of it. There would be all these strange girls I wouldn't know. Maybe my counselor would be really mean.

So about a week before camp started, I had a slight meltdown.

Actually, it was more like a major meltdown.

I started crying and I didn't stop. I cried for about two whole days. Major, major waterworks.

Everyone tried to comfort me in various ways that did absolutely no good at all. And yes, there were some regurgitation episodes. Eventually Mama said, “Fine, you don't have to go. You can stay home and miss out on
all the fun.”

So I stopped crying and immediately felt better, but I could tell she was majorly disappointed in me. Half of me felt so incredibly relieved that I didn't have to go to camp, but the other half felt like the biggest failure in the world.

So last summer when I was eleven, I knew I couldn't back out of it again. Luckily, Molly had moved to our neighborhood at the beginning of fifth grade and we got to be best, best friends. She wanted to go with me last year, and she was so excited that she made me feel a lot better about camp, but I was still nervous in the beginning.

Molly elbowed me and grinned. “Just think, tomorrow we'll actually be riding horses again! I can't wait to see Merlin. I wonder if he'll remember me.”

Molly and I loved horseback riding more than any other activity at Pine Haven. Listening to her talk about horses made me excited. Camp really was fun, even if I did get nervous about the first day.

“I wonder if Amber will be in our cabin,” said Molly.

“I don't know, but Eda promised she'd put you and me together.”

I felt a sinking feeling inside me when I said that. Eda probably thought I would have another meltdown
if Molly wasn't right by my side. Once you've had one meltdown, people keep expecting you to have additional ones.

Mama was always telling people, “Jordan is a little more cautious than Madison. Jordan needs a little more encouragement than Madison does. Jordan is more sensitive than Madison.”

Translation: Madison is perfectly normal. Then there's my abnormal daughter.

Last summer I had managed to get through the whole month of camp without having a meltdown. But like that was a big deal.

This summer I had to do more than just survive camp. Last year, the day we got home, I heard Mama on the phone to Daddy, giving him a report of how things went. They've been divorced since I was five, but they still get along really well.

“Jordan survived!” I heard her telling him. Her voice sounded so relieved. “Yes, she made it through the whole session. I honestly thought Eda was going to call me and say we'd have to come get her, but she made it! She survived! Maddy? Oh, well, you know how Madison
loves camp. She thrived, just like she always does.”

After I'd overheard that conversation, I went to my room and locked the door. I cried for an hour.
Jordan
survived; Madison thrived.
It was a horrible rhyme stuck in my head that kept repeating itself over and over and over.

This summer, I couldn't just survive.

This summer, I wanted it to be my turn to thrive.

Actually, last year when I heard that, I wasn't exactly sure what
thrive
meant. I knew it was something good, better than just surviving, so I looked it up. It means “to prosper or flourish; to grow vigorously.” It also means “to progress toward a goal despite circumstances.”

I stared out the window at the scenery blurring past us. I had to think of some kind of goal for this summer. Something that would show everyone that there wasn't anything wrong with me. Something that they would never expect from the queen of major meltdowns.

Molly and I were both sitting scrunched down with our heads leaning back on the seat. Madison was hypnotized by the music playing through her earbuds. In the
front seat, Mama had laid her head on the seat rest, and I could tell she was asleep from the way her head rolled around.

Molly and I planned to sign up for riding lessons just like we did last summer, and that way we'd get to ride three times a week. We would definitely be spending more time at the stables than anywhere else. So . . . what kind of riding goal could I have?

“I bet we'll really become expert riders this year,” I said to Molly suddenly.

She narrowed her eyes at me a little suspiciously. “You think so?”

“Sure, I mean, why not? We're not beginners anymore. We took lessons all last summer.”

I had an idea about something I could do that would show everyone. But even thinking about it made my heart beat faster. It was scary and dangerous. But if I did it, everyone would be so surprised. And impressed.

“We might even work up to jumping,” I said. Now my heart was hammering so fast it felt like I'd just run a hundred-meter dash.

Jumping? Was I really ready for something as advanced as jumping?

Molly stared at me with her mouth open for what seemed like one whole minute. “Who are you? And
what have you done with my best friend who won't even jump off the high dive?”

I sighed with frustration. “A lot of people don't like to jump off the high dive,” I insisted. One thing I really liked about Pine Haven was that the lake had only one diving board, a low dive—unlike the neighborhood pool we swam in. “Anyway, jumping a horse over a wall wouldn't be as scary as jumping off the high dive.”

She looked directly at me like she was seeing me for the first time. “Seriously? You would really be willing to jump a wall on a horse?”

I wondered if she could hear my heart thumping, because it sure felt like the telltale heart that everyone in the whole car must be able to hear.
Boom, boom, boom, boom.

First my stomach was completely unreliable. Now my heart was out of control. What next? My liver? Who knew what kinds of trouble a liver could get into?

I swallowed and took a deep breath. “I'll do it if you will,” I told her.

“That's amazing! That's awesome! I would love to start jumping this summer!” Molly was practically screaming. She was so loud that Madison pulled her earbuds out.

“What are y'all talking about?” she asked.

Molly clutched Madison's arm excitedly. “Jordan says she wants to try jumping a horse this summer! She said she'd do it if I do it!”

Madison glanced at me with her eyebrows raised. “Jordan? Jordan who?”

I sat up straight in the seat. “What? You don't think I could do it?” I snapped at Maddy. “You don't think I'm good enough? Maybe I haven't been riding since I was a
two-year-old
, but I have been on a horse before.”

Molly giggled in total disbelief. “Two? You've been riding horses since you were two?”

Madison smiled innocently at me. “Of course not. I was . . . three! Actually, I didn't start riding seriously at Pine Haven until I was eleven or twelve.”

“How old were you when you jumped for the first time?” asked Molly. I was glad she'd asked, because I'd been wondering that myself.

Madison pressed her lips together. “Twelve. I think. Maybe.” She shrugged. “I honestly can't remember.”

Oh, really? She couldn't remember? Or did she just not want to say because she didn't want me to do something at a younger age than she'd done it?

Madison had learned to ride a two-wheeler when she was five. I'd learned when I was six. And a half. Madison started swimming lessons at four and was on
a swim team by the time she was seven. I started swimming lessons when I was six, and finally, by the time I was ten, I was an okay swimmer.

I glanced at the back of Mama's head, propped on the headrest. She'd remember how old Madison was when she jumped a horse for the first time. She wrote down everything. There was even this chart in our baby books where she marked down the order we lost all our baby teeth in.

That was one thing I'd beaten Madison in. She'd lost her first tooth at five years and four months, and I'd lost my first one at five years and two months.

Whoop-de-do! I was almost positive that there wasn't a competitive tooth-losing event in the Olympics.

“You never answered my question,” I said accusingly. “Do you think I could learn to jump or not?”

Madison leaned forward a little and looked past Molly at me. “Yeah, I think you
could
do it. But I don't know, Jordan. You know how you get about stuff like that.”

Translation: I think you're too much of a wimp to actually go through with it.

“Well, maybe I'll surprise you. I'm going to learn how to jump this summer. It's something I really want to do.”