Izzy Newton let go.
The rope swing went slack, and for a moment, for one heartbeat, Izzy was suspended in air. Yes! she thought. This is how it feels to be weightless. Then gravity took over. Down she plummeted, slipping smoothly into the water toes first. She landed on the soft, muddy lake bottom and then thrust herself up, bursting into the fire-bright sunshine. Air, water, earth, fire, she thought happily. All four elements in a row. How often can you experience that?
“Yah-hoo, Izzy!” cheered her friends Charlie Darwin and Allie Einstein, who were treading water nearby. The girls had biked to the lake for the last swim of the summer. Tomorrow was the first day of school, and they wanted to soak up every possible minute of being outdoors, preferably at the lake. Actually, preferably in the lake.
Allie churned up waves to splash Izzy in celebration. “You did it,” she shouted. “Finally!”
“¡Hurra!” yelled Charlie. “Way to go, Izzy!”
“Admit it: You loved it,” said Allie.
“I did,” Izzy agreed. She nodded, sending water droplets sliding down her nose. Other droplets that were caught in her eyelashes and her curly black hair refracted the sunlight like prisms. “You’re right. The rope swing is The Best.”
“I can’t believe it took you all summer to jump!” said Allie. “You’re such a chicken!”
“Hey,” Charlie protested. “First of all, chickens aren’t necessarily scaredy-cats. And neither is Izzy. She’s just, like, you know, slow and careful. Right, Iz?”
“Yeeesss,” said Izzy, slowly and carefully. In slo-mo, she cupped her hands and, with exaggerated care, scooped up water and sprinkled it on her friends.
The three girls burst into laughter.
Izzy knew she wasn’t the bravest person in the world. Take the rope swing, for example. It was a brand-new addition to the lake this summer. The very first time Allie and Charlie saw it, their eyes lit up and they raced over to test it out. Not Izzy. The first time and every time she’d thought about trying the swing, she’d held back. Questions flashed through her brain and set it whirling: What if I let go too soon? What if I belly flop? Would all the other swimmers watch and laugh at me? No wonder her nickname was “Dizzy Izzy”; her mind was always spinning.
But tomorrow was a new day—her first at Atom Middle School—and Izzy was determined to leave Dizzy Izzy behind. It may have taken all summer, but Izzy felt that her leap off the rope swing was a giant step toward ditching her anxious alter ego. She grinned at her friends and said, “Now that I’ve jumped once, I want to do it again—like a gazillion more times.”
“Me too!” said Allie, already wading ashore. Allie was too impatient to walk the long curve of the beach past the lifeguard’s chair and wait her turn behind the other kids headed to the tree. She took a more direct route, scrambling over the rocks at the tree’s base.
“Allie,” Charlie called out in warning, “I think that might be—”
But Allie was already too far away to hear Charlie. She grabbed the rope, ran back and then forward, and swung out over the water. “Waa-hoo!” she whooped, wildly waving her arms and legs as she tumbled through the air into the water, making as much commotion as possible.
Charlie sighed, saying, “Gotta feel sorry for the poor fish, don’t you?”
“Yup,” said Izzy. She grinned. It was typical of Charlie to sympathize with the lake creatures.
“Hurry up,” commanded Allie when she surfaced next to Izzy and Charlie. “Today’s your last chance to do those gazillion jumps, Izzy. Tomorrow is the first day of school.”
“I know,” said Izzy. “And not just any first day. Tomorrow’s the first day of middle school.”
“Claro,” said Charlie. “So, Izzy, if you don’t want to show up covered in a rash, don’t climb over the rocks like Allie Oop just did.” Charlie pointed to some greenery growing on the rocks. “That’s poison ivy.”
“No way!” squeaked Allie.
“Yes way,” said Charlie.
“Isn’t it pachysandra?” asked Allie.
Charlie shook her head. “Poison,” she repeated, “ivy.”
“Awww, man!” groaned Allie, frantically examining her arms. “Just what I need for the first day of school: a screaming pink rash.”
“I tried to stop you,” said Charlie, “but—”
“You were too rash!” joked Izzy. “Get it?”
“Ha, ha,” said Allie, rolling her eyes at Izzy’s painful pun.
“Never mind, Allie,” soothed Charlie. “The lake water will wash the poison ivy off. Wait here while Izzy and I jump again.”
“Let’s go the long way, Charlie,” said Izzy. She slid Allie a grin and scratched an imaginary itch behind her ear. “A pink rash will clash with my back-to-school outfit.”
“Ohhhh,” moaned Allie with dramatic misery. She sank down into the water until it covered her bright blond head and then shot up right next to Izzy to splash her, laughing loudly.
Good old Allie, thought Izzy. Talk about a disaster magnet! But she bounces back fast. Charlie, on the other hand, was just naturally cool and calm. Izzy watched Charlie use the rope swing: Effortlessly, she swooped, flipped midair, and dove smoothly. Izzy had to give her own jump a lot more thought. She carefully calculated when the swing reached its highest point and then, just as carefully, let go and slipped into the water, trying to make as small a splash as possible.
As she waded ashore, Izzy shivered. “Am I crazy, or does the lake feel warmer than the air?”
“I mean…you are crazy,” said Allie. “But you’re also right. It’s pretty cold for September. Seems like the temperature’s dropping every day! The leaves will probably change color early this year.”
“Well,” Izzy corrected, “that also has to do with the angle of the sun and hours of sunlight.” Izzy knew all about the sun, moon, stars, and planets; she loved space! Her grandfather taught physics—the study of energy and what things are made of—at the local college. Sometimes he and Izzy used the telescope there to stargaze. Izzy was saving up to buy a telescope of her own. Her ambition was to discover a star so that she could name it after Granddad. Ever since Izzy was a little girl, he had encouraged her fascination with light, heat, sound, electricity, motion, and force. Izzy was determined to be a physicist just like him when she grew up.
The girls waded up the sloping beach to the shore.
“Anyone hungry?” asked Charlie, offering snacks.
“No, thank you,” said Allie and Izzy together, quickly. Charlie and her family—her two moms and her two younger brothers—had a small vegetable garden. Her snacks were always homegrown and a little too healthy. The kale chips she’d brought today were no exception.
“You sure?” asked Charlie, her mouth full of green. When Izzy and Allie shook their heads emphatically, she shrugged. “Your loss.”
“No offense, Charlie,” joked Izzy, “but those kale chips look—and smell—like mulch.”
Charlie laughed and shoveled another handful into her mouth. “Yum,” she said with a sly wink. “Delicious.”