We can’t go down the mountain until the rain begins letting up, so we take shelter in this weird ranger hut 20 minutes away from the river. The ranger asks us why we were there and that shit. Rory’s shivering and not able to answer. I lie and say we fell off the path.

A truck comes for all of us half an hour later. Apparently, all the trails are closed because of the rain, so we climb into the car with four other people squeezed in. It’s the worst ride anywhere, and the train to South Aberford doesn’t even count.

But we get off Arlebridge Rock. It’s getting dark out, and as soon as we set foot in the rest stop by the parking lot, I can hear our parents still screaming at the receptionist.

“Our children are still up there!” shouts Mr. Harwood.

“You have to go get them! That’s your jobs!” Dad adds in.

And then it’s an overlapping slew of words that don’t mean anything until the park ranger asks, pushing me and Rory forward, “Are these your kids?”

Mrs. Harwood turns around first, but begins turning back before screaming, “Rory!” She leaps across the room like a ballerina and tackles him. “Your face!” Mrs. Harwood hugs him tighter. "Oh, my poor baby!"

“Jack!” Dad screeches, but Mom pushes him out of the way to get to me first. They both’ve been crying. Mr. and Mrs. Harwood have been crying, too. “You guys!” Dad whimpers, looking at both of us.

But then Mrs. Harwood whacks Rory in the head. “What’d you do?”

“No, I – ”

“Jackson, are you okay?” asks Mom, touching my face like this is the first time she’s seen me in a decade.

Mrs. Harwood pulls on Rory’s ear. “What’d you do?”

I swat her hand away. “Let go of him. He was making sure I was okay.”

They’re all surprised. More surprised at Rory, but still surprised. “What?” I don’t know which of them asks.

I sigh. “I… ” Eyeing Rory, I nod and continue. “…I wanted to see the river, but I didn’t want to wait to get to the bridge.” I turn to look at Rory and smirk. “Rory ran after me to make sure I was okay.”

Then Mom whacks me in the head. “Are you stupid?” she asks. “You knew what the weather was going to be like.”

Mr. Harwood pats Rory on the shoulder. “Good choice, son.”

Rory smiles and winces when his parents hug him again.

My parents, despite calling me stupid over and over, hug me again.

Over their shoulders, Rory and I nod in understanding.

I sigh and bury my face in my dad’s shoulder.

The truce’s official.