I stretch my arms wide, clawing at the water, trying to move the trunk closer. I strain, feeling the pull in my shoulders. Water is lapping, almost to my chin.
I clutch bark. A piece cracks away in my hand.
“Get it, get it,” TaShon screams. His arms are too short. The trunk is floating by.
I inch my body further, my hips and legs still touching the roof. Inhaling, I plunge forward. My arms are around the tree.
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