“Alrighty! Let’s all get our tents unpacked quickly!” shouts Mr. Jepsen, the troop leader, “I wanna get y’all on the river by noon!”

“Yes sir!” we yell back.

We begin unloading our tents from the bed of assistant troop leader Mr. Pitchford’s rusty pickup. The sunlight beams on my face as the late February air pierces through my thin fleecy coat. I grab one end of the large tent with both of my small arms, and my best friend and tent-mate Stone picks up the other end. We make our way over to our campsite, marching like soldiers, and set down our tent.

As Stone begins to unfold all of the poles, I take a moment, breathe in, and feel the sun. The sound of the flowing of the nearby river fills the air. Smoke from the nearby campfire fills my nostrils. The birds chirp joyfully. I smell the remnants of a distant petrichor. I breathe out. Yet another scouting trip underway.

After we finish we head over to Mr. Jepsen’s tent, where most of the other scouts have already gathered.

“Alright, are all y’all’s tents set up?” asks Mr. Jepsen.

“Yes sir!” we respond.

“I ain’t wastin’ no more time on you jokers,” he shouts loud enough to frighten the birds into an early migration. “Let’s get those kayaks on the water!”

I silently hope to be paired with Stone, because the majority of the scouts older than me and higher in rank were either numbnuts or evil.

“Alrighty…” Mr. Jepsen ponders, “Holden… and Daniel.”

My heart twinges a tad at the words coming out of Mr. Jepsen’s mouth. Daniel. The biggest and baddest of all the older scouts. The biggest bully on planet Earth.

“Whaddup leprechaun!” shouts Daniel just a few inches away from my ear. “You ready to go kayaking?”

“I guess…” I murmur under my breath.

“Listen here,” he whispers. "You do what I say and nothing else. I’m the boss here.”

In that instant, something in me snaps. Every scouting trip that I had gone on since I joined was plagued with Daniel’s sadistic laughter. There was the time that he had thrown a scout’s meal into the dirt, or a different trip where he had stolen a cigarette from Mr. Jepsen’s tent and nearly burnt down Ryan’s tent trying to smoke it. He had bullied every single kid in the troop, and now that it was my turn, I found my courage to finally speak out against him.

“You know what? No. I don’t need to follow your rules, Daniel. I’m not just gonna be along for the ride. This is my trip too. I deserve to have fun.” I speak loudly enough for other kids to hear.

Some of the other troop members, including Mr. Pitchford, hear me. Everyone stops dead in their tracks. I had finally stood up to Daniel.

“Uhhhh…” Mr. Jepsen says, confused on what to do to mitigate the situation. “Do you wanna switch people? Stone maybe?”

“No,” I say, “I’m fine with Daniel.”

From that point on, Daniel left me alone, and we continued down the path to the river's edge. The water was so clear you could practically see fish. The bare trees around me would normally evoke a sense of dread. Seeing all of their bare limbs like secrets hidden from the world, I found in them a new beginning, one I hadn’t noticed before. Instead of looking at the leaves that had fallen, I focused on the buds slowly starting to bloom.

© Holden. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.