Stranded Read Online Free

This log was the biggest one yet, almost waist high, with the diameter of one of those giant semitrailer tires. I wondered how such a big tree could just fall down like that.
    Chloe rolled to the other side, and I pushed the canoe to her before climbing over myself.
    â€œThat’s number six,” Chloe said.
    â€œYou’d think they’d have someone out here to clean up the trail.”
    â€œGuess this ain’t Disneyland.”
    I laughed. “You got that right.”
    My shoulders ached. I wanted to sit down, just for a minute. Instead, I looked ahead for Jeremy’s orange shirt. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t even hear the others, not above the sound of my own labored breathing and grunting. A bubble of panic popped in my chest. Where did they go?
    â€œHey,” said Chloe. “I think I finally see some water.”
    â€œThank God.”
    The trail twisted right, and we followed a winding switchback. The path narrowed so tightly our bodies brushed the papery leaves growing beside it. Better not be poison ivy. Or poison oak. Or poison something. Through the trees, flashes of silver and blue, then a flash of orange.
    Around the last switchback the trail opened up onto a slim pebbled beach. Gusts of air hit my face, like I had just walkedpast an air conditioner set on high. The lake was huge, over a mile across. Sunlight bounced off the surface, making me squint to see the far side, which ended in a dark line of trees.
    â€œWelcome to Loon Lake.” Chris smiled when we appeared on the beach. “We’ll be heading north along the shore for two miles, going through a little inlet that will take us over to the waterfall.” He pointed his finger up the shore. “You can’t see it from here, but there is a nice beach and a place to swim. The water is cold out here but not too bad for swimming. We’ll do lunch when we get there.” Chris refolded his map and tucked it into his pocket. “Make sure to reapply your sunscreen before we get out on the water. You can get a burn in twenty minutes, and I don’t want anyone keeling over with sunstroke. Wear your hat.”
    *  *  *
    The lake was a relief from the wooded trail, chilled with the smell of green plants and rusted iron. On the shore I exchanged my boots for Tevas, then waded in and dunked my head completely, cramming my wet ponytail into the baseball cap I’d borrowed from my dad, a faded baby-blue Brewers cap.
    â€œNice hat,” Isaac said.
    â€œThanks,” I replied, soaking my bandana.
    â€œIt wasn’t a compliment.”
    I looked at him, his forehead wrinkled with horizontal lines, mouth screwed up in a pucker like he’d smelled something bad.
    What’s his problem? “You don’t like baseball or something?”I draped the bandana over my shoulder, debating dunking my entire body, clothes and all, but I was only wearing a light T-shirt. I didn’t feel like nipping out in front of a bunch of guys.
    â€œOr something,” he said, sounding annoyed. He adjusted his own ball cap, curving the brim into a tight U with his hands, which appeared to be about twice the size of my own.
    He’s not much for words, this guy. He’s probably a Twins fan . “Whatever,” I muttered, and helped Chloe put our backpacks in the canoe. When I coated my arms with sunblock, I saw Oscar watching me (or was he looking at Chloe?). I held out the bottle. “Need some?”
    â€œI’m okay, thanks.” Oscar smiled and dropped his gaze, suddenly busy with his life jacket.
    â€œYeah,” Isaac interrupted. He winked suggestively while twirling his paddle like a baton. “I think he does need some.”
    I wasn’t talking to you. I capped the sunblock shut, ignoring him, and shoved it back into my pack.
    â€œWhat? Aren’t you gonna ask if I need some?”
    â€œNope.” I glanced back, glad to be wearing sunglasses, as if that