Dylan grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the ledge. A few feet from us, a guy with paint smeared on his arms and sneakers crept up to th edge. He looked over the edge, took a deep breath, then leapt off. He did a full back flip and hit the water with a loud slap. I hadn’t even jumped and my heart was pounding.

Dylan grinned at me. “Doesn’t it look like fun?”

“No, no it doesn’t,” I replied. “It looks painful. You heard him hit the water.”

“He’s fine. Look; he’s getting out now.”

Below us, the guy who jumped was pulling himself onto the ledge, laughing at his friends. It still didn’t make me feel any better. I crossed my arms over my semi-bare chest and started biting my finger nails. I don’t rip them off, I just chew on them; it makes me feel better. I looked down at the kids playing and swimming, and felt like a moron. Kids half my age and less are flying through the air into the cool water, and there I was, standing in the muggy air, worrying and, for some reason, almost on the verge of tears.

“This is going to hurt so much.”

“No it’s not,” Dylan urged. “Look if it does hurt, you can punch me in the face.”

“But I don’t want to hit you.”

“Well, at least you have the option.”

I sighed and looked over the edge again. It hadn’t looked so high when we were on the lower ledge, looking up at it; why did it seem so menacing now?

“Here.” He held out his hand to me.

“What?”

“We’ll jump together if you’re that scared.”

I looked at his hand without taking it. “I might land on you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re my friend. I’d rather get myself hurt than having you be scared and in pain.”

My heart melted a bit and I felt tears behind my eyes and in the back of my throat. How long had I known this guy? A week, a week and a half at most? And he was willing to let himself get hurt for me. It had to be some sort of line. I searched his eyes for something that would tell me he was lying; that said that all he wanted was a chance to get something more than I was willing to give.

But all I could see was the utmost sincerity in two pools of green light.

“Alright,” I said, grabbing his and removing my hand from my mouth. He smiled at me, and I knew right there that this was a great guy; a keeper.

“One... two...” Dylan pulled me up to the edge. His hand was soft and warm, and for the first time in a long while, I felt alright with where I was.

My stomach fluttered with twittering anticipation.

“Three!” We were air borne, and I couldn’t feel anything but air beneath my feet, and Dylan’s hand covering mine.