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nocturnal wildlife, the insects, the flora moving in the breeze, almost like lungs expanding and contracting. Impossible to prove, but Hudson felt that the whole length of the river was contributing to the sound, the casino boats a few miles down, the current crashing into the Gulf of Mexico in New Orleans like a jazz cymbal. It all came together to create this wall of noise that felt somehow tangible.
    â€œThis way,” Hudson said, starting to head around the trees and into the ravine.
    She stepped to him, and before he could realize what his fingers were doing, he took hold of her hand. “Okay,” she said, squeezing his fingers back without much fanfare, “lead the way.”
    Thankful for the darkness hiding his uncontainable smile, he took them around the trees. A couple of times he almost lost his footing, too distracted by Leila’s touch to pay much attention to the terrain. They reached the river’s edge and started walking downstream. He was hoping that the boat was there. If the rowboat was there, then it meant he and Leila would have the oxbow to themselves and his friends were off doing something else.
    â€œI like this scenic route,” she said. “It feels like an actual treasure hunt.”
    â€œYou’ll love this place,” he said, spotting the low-hanging branches where they kept the small rowboat hidden. It was there. He let go of her hand to kneel down and pull the boat out of its hiding spot. It was little more than a worn-out canoe, its wood knotty and cracked, its white paint darkened to green by the river.
    â€œOh, I see it,” Leila said, looking out at the river, her hands in her back pockets, that world-changing posture again. “How far is that?”
    â€œNot too far. About sixty, seventy yards, maybe.” He put one foot in the boat and turned to offer a helping hand.
    She looked over at Hudson and then back at the island. A mischievous smile spread across her lips. She stepped toward him, but instead of taking his hand and getting into the boat, she knelt down and stuck her hand into the river.
    â€œIt’s chilly,” she said. “But the current isn’t too bad.” She stood back up to her full height, which, admittedly, wasn’t very much. “Let’s swim across.”
    She kicked off one of her flip-flops and stuck her foot into the river.
    Hudson gave her a look.
    â€œHaven’t you ever done it before?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYeah, we’re definitely doing this, then.”
    â€œWhat about our clothes?”
    â€œThey’ll get wet, and then some time after that they’ll get dry.”
    â€œAnd our phones? The car keys?”
    â€œLeave them in the car.” She walked over to him and pulled him out of the boat by his hand. “Hudson, you’re swimming across this river with me.”
    He resisted for a few steps, dragging his feet. But then he remembered that he’d climbed out his bedroom window and left his house because he wanted to immerse himself in fun for once. “It’s very hard to say no to you.”
    â€œWhy would you want to say no to me?”
    Leila laughed and gave his hand a squeeze, then walked them back to the car. Hudson checked the time again before leaving his phone in the glove compartment. If he was tired the next day, he could tell his dad he’d had trouble sleeping out of nervousness. They left their shoes, wallets, and keys inside, then walked back to the shore, treading carefully to avoid stepping on stones or twigs with their bare feet.
    They stood at the edge, facing the island, the river’s waves lapping at their toes as if trying to coax them into the water. “Look at those stars,” Hudson said.
    â€œBeautiful,” Leila said, looking up at the night sky. Then she turned back to him and smiled. “Are you a good swimmer?”
    â€œI’m all right,” he said. “You?”
    â€œWe’ll see, won’t