The next morning, I woke up to bright light flooding into the tent. Rather than sleeping in, like I did for Justin's Ferry, I gathered all my things and began getting ready.

    The nearest actual bathroom was almost a mile away, so going there was out of the question. Instead, I grabbed my large water bottle filled with water from home and my toothbrush, walking to the large faucets on a wooden plank at the edge of the camp sites. With difficulty, I managed to brush my teeth using the paste from home and the water bottle, spitting near the faucet.

    I stuffed my wet toothbrush into a plastic bag and shoved it into my toiletry bag. Carefully, I pulled out two contacts cases and used the camera on my phone as a mirror to put them in. I went to the bathroom and changed in the porta-potty at the edge of the road, across from the campsite. In a few minutes, I was dressed and ready to go.

    It was lucky too, that I got up so early, because there was soon a line for the porta-potty. I grabbed my plate and shifted under the uncomfortable clothes I was wearing. But, it would come in handy later with kayaking.

    The clothes were a water-wicking sports shirt with a rain jacket on top. My pants were also sports pants, but I had put thin rain pants on top of those. My shoes were thin water shoes that made me feel like I was walking with socks rather than shoes.

    Breakfast was probably my favorite meal of them all, with fluffy pancakes and maple syrup, topped with berries. I stuffed another orange in my backpack, eating one after the sweet, syrupy pancakes and finally drinking some iced tea to clear my stomach.

    While many students had finished eating like me, others were just waking up. To pass the time, we decided to play a game.

    "It's called Ninja," Jeanine explained. "You pretty much start out in fighting stance and have to avoid your arms from getting hit with a single move. But you have to stay in that position until your turn comes again."

    It turned out to be really fun, but I wasn't the best at it. I usually got hit on my first or second time and spent the rest of the round watching people intently playing. One girl aimed for another girl at the other end of the circle, jumping forward and landing face-first on the hard sand. Needless to say, she missed.

    Soon, Mr. Marvin joined us. He was a pro at the game, having played it so many times before. It all came down to him and Jeanine, but he won with a skillful jump through the air, hitting her other hand and landing on one foot. It was awesome.

    More students finished eating and Mrs. Callie suggested we play "What Time is it Mr. Fox?" The game involved one person saying a time and everyone walking that many steps towards him or her. At one point, "Mr. Fox" would yell "dinner time" and turn around, tagging people until they reached the safe zone. If you were tagged, you became a "Mr. Fox."

    This, I was really good at. I hated long distance running, but I wasn't that bad at short sprints. So I invested all my energy into running away and never once got tagged.

    Finally, it was down to five people. There were eleven "Mr. Fox"s and we had to run away from all of them. Clary was one of them, so I knew she would be chasing me. I took a deep breath and readied myself to run.

    "What time is it Mr. Fox?" Mrs. Callie called out in a strong voice.

    Unanimously, the eleven students in front of us replied, "Twelve o'clock!"

    Slowly, we took twelve steps towards them on the sandy beach. "One, two, three, four, five, six," we counted. "Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!"

    We were inches away from the "Mr. Fox"s.

    "What time is it Mr. Fox?" we called out in trembling voices.

    "DINNER TIME!"

    All eleven students whipped around and began chasing us. I ran as fast as I could, my breath panting, not bothering to check back and see who my pursuer was. My eyes fixed on a point in the distance, a sandy area with dry grasses. My legs extended to reach it, my arms moving back and forth. And finally, I felt the grasses brushing my ankles.

    I slowly turned around in triumph, seeing that two people had gotten tagged. There were only three left. As I began thinking how impossible this was going to be, Mr. Cardinal called us to the bus, telling us that everyone had finished. Smiling, I slowly walked to the bus, ready to go kayaking.

    "You know," Clary said, catching up to me. "I would have totally tagged you next round."

    I grinned. "You wish," I scoffed.

    When we reached the bay where we would be kayaking, there were many safety protocols to go through. From putting on lifejackets to picking partners to learning how to paddle, it was almost noontime before we began actually kayaking.

    Heaving my huge double sided paddle over my head, I followed Clary to a canoe. We found a large green one with a black balancing stripe on the sides. Carefully, I put one foot into the canoe, wary of it tilting over. Once we had finally managed to sit inside, we tried to figure out how to move.

    The canoe was wedged between two walls of mud, so we both had to get up and push it into the water. With a large splurge, it floated into the shallow water, ready to be rowed.

    I turned to Clary., "Okay, we have to paddle in opposite directions if we want to go forward," I instructed.

    Left, right, left, right. With all the strength we could muster, the canoe began moving forward.

    "Yes!" we yelled in triumph, only to see that most students were already feet ahead of us. Clenching my teeth, I paddled harder until we reached them.

The canoe in front of us was fast approaching. Panic welled up in my chest as we began paddling backwards in hopes to slow down the boat. But, the current was already flowing and paddling backwards did little to stop it.

"Incoming!" Clary warned. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact, when I only felt a slight bump and we were suddenly moving backwards. Squinting, I saw that the boat had finally slowed down and we barely collided.

I sighed in relief. "Thank goodness," I muttered under my breath, craning to see how much farther we had to row. It was a long time, but we plowed through, occasionally bumping into someone or the other. 

Finally, an island came into view. Fueled with the drive to reach it, Clary and I paddled faster. The water became shallower and the boat slowed down until it barely moved.

In front of us, everyone else was pushing their boats onto land. Clary and I shared a look, knowing what we inevitably had to do. Taking a deep breath, I carefully lifted my feet out of the canoe and placed them into the water.

The cool water rushed into my pants and shoes, climbing its way up to my knees. Ignoring the coldness and wetness at my ankles, feet, and calves, I began pushing the boat to shore with Clary's help.

The canoe was finally on shore as we walked on the sandy ground that was packed hard below our feet. Balancing on a rock, I pried off one of my shoes and let the buckets of water flow out that were sloshing below my soles. But, even as I put them back on, I still heard the plop of my feet being submerged in water. Shaking my head hopelessly, I went to join the class.

We took large nets and scavenged through the water for signs of life. After three scoops of the seawater, all I had found was a colony of algae.

"You need to go in deeper," suggested Mr. Cardinal. "Life only lives where it can thrive."

Taking his advice, I walked back into the deeper waters. Soon, the fine mesh of my net had what looked like a glob of hand sanitizer. I picked up the wriggling creature and leaned closer to it.

With further inspection, the clear skin contained thin blue veins that were the thickness of a single strand of hair on my head. I picked up the net and splashed to the sandy shore.

"Check out what I found!" I called. "It looks like a blob of hand sanitizer with veins!"

Mrs. Callie laughed, looking closer to the creature. "I think that's a slime jelly," she suspected.

Mr. Cardinal nodded. "Yes it is," he agreed. "They actually glow at night. It's very beautiful."

I closed my fingers around the jellyfish and peeked through a crack. Sure enough, it was glowing a bright purple with its veins a prominent blue. "Woah," I marveled. "That's so cool."

Carefully, I slid the slime jelly into a large, clear plastic bag when I heard a loud scream from out in the water followed by a huge splash and pounding feet.

"It's a- it's so big!" cried a terrified student. Everyone splashed towards him and Mr. Marvin carefully picked up the creature by its claw with a throaty laugh.

"Mating horseshoe crabs," he stated. "They're closer to spiders than crabs, really." I slowly backed away, careful not to fall into the cool water. I wasn't terrified, of spiders, but the creepy crawlies weren't my favorite creatures either.

Mr. Cardinal began explaining to us how the female crab was much larger than the male and how they mated. He offered to let us hold the crabs and the class enthusiastically agreed. Well, most people.

I clamped my hands around the hard shell of the crab to remind myself it was a crab not a spider. But the eight legs waving in the air with the beadlike eyes in the middle caused a scared shudder to run through my body as I handed it to Madeline next to me.

We began rowing back to shore when I spotted a family of small, blond kids playing in the shallow waters of the beach. When they spotted us, their eyes widened and they padded back to their parents sitting on some beach chairs, reading.

I stifled a laugh. "Are we that intimidating?" I asked incredulously.

Clary shrugged. "For some reason, everyone's afraid of teenagers. Especially in large groups."

I bit my lip to hold back the smile that was tugging at the corner of my lips. Afraid of teenagers? That was the biggest joke I'd ever heard. I probably had the maturity of a ten year old with how hyper I usually was. But, the perception was unfortunately true.

We docked our boats and took the bus back to the campsite. In the little free time they gave us, I ran back to my tent and changed into warm, dry clothes under the cover of my sleeping bag. The tent wasn't inherently see-through, but it let light pass through in a way that you could see shadows in it. And that was the last thing I wanted when I was changing.

I changed into a dry pair of sneakers after drying the sandy, shriveled soles. Then, I stepped outside in my pink t-shirt and denim shorts.

The cold wind brushed by me, pulling a few strands of hair from the tight bun on the top of my head. After being exposed to water, sand, and wind, my hair was a mess. All I could do was tie it up out of my face in a thick bun and hope it stayed.

I quickly learned that it may have been a bad idea to wear shorts and a t-shirt, but I wasn't going to change now. As we began analyzing the wave patterns at the edge of the beach, I clenched my hands into fists to prevent shivering.

Even Brett was wearing long jeans and a sweatshirt. I turned to him, wrapping my cold arms around myself. "How do you always manage the cold?" I asked. "I am seriously freezing right now."

He laughed. "You want to switch jobs? I have to run from shoreline to the top of this dune. Maybe running back and forth will warm you up."

I took the pad and paper from his hands and handed him mine. "Thank you so much," I thanked. "We can switch back later if you want."

He waved his hand. "Don't worry about it."

Running back and forth did help. Once we had gotten the data, we began analyzing it and calculated the wave patterns. It was fascinating.

Finally, we had finished all the calculations and my skin didn't feel as cold anymore. As we walked back to the campsite, I profusely thanked Brett again.

We sat at the picnic tables, writing our journal entries when I heard a few gasps from around me. Craning my head towards the barbecue area, I saw a majestic horse.

It was a beautiful chocolate color with a mane that glittered in the sunlight. But its head was headed towards one of the food boxes.

"No!" Mrs. Callie cried, throwing a large plastic lid at the horse. It hit its head and the horse turned sideways, neighing in pain and galloping over the fence into the distance. Tears filled her eyes. "Oh no," she gasped. "I only wanted it to leave. I didn't mean to hit its head!"

I giggled. "Mrs. Callie, I'm sure it's fine," I assured. "It'll be alright."

Mrs. Callie gave me an unsure nod and picked up the lid , closing one of the boxes. I continued writing my entry.

I used to always go to the beach and collect sea shells. I never wondered where they came from and what nature used them for. Only on this trip did I learn all of that, and more. Honestly, this trip changed my life and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was the perfect closure to a great year.

Smiling, I closed the journal when a savory smell hit my nose. Something I hadn't eaten in weeks... Pizza.

As everyone finished their journal entries, pizza was distributed among us. I sunk my teeth into the cheesy delight and let the tasty sauce and bready crust fill my mouth.

"Mmm," I said between bites. "This is heaven on earth."

Biana nodded. "I swear, I haven't eaten pizza in so long." I eyed the slices of pepperoni on her pizza and gave a small nod. I felt better than I had of late. I had retrieved a sweatshirt from my backpack and pulled it on, leaving the shorts. The tasty pizza filled my stomach and I sat back, feeling extremely relaxed.

The sun had began to set and we decided to take a walk on the beach. Waves lapped dangerously close to my sneakers, but I carefully steered clear of them. Warm winds brushed past us and my mind flashed back to my winter break.

My mom had asked multiple times to go on a beach walk when we had gone to the Bahamas, but we never granted her wish. I silently dedicated this walk to her, hoping it would be enough. In front of me, Clary was holding a bright flashlight, searching the beach for signs of life.

Suddenly, I heard a gasp in front of me. Right in the light of Clary's flashlight was a medium-sized white crab snapping its claws and staring at us curiously. We gathered around the crab and watched it walk in circles in the warm night air.

"What should we name it?" asked Jeanine.

I shrugged when someone called out, "J Rick the Crab!"

I laughed. J Rick was what everyone had coined Mr. Rickman as after he had left. Someone even submitted a Global shirt with that name on it.

"J Rick the Crab it is," Mr. Marvin agreed. "In tribute to Mr. Rickman."

We walked for a bit longer and I let the wind pass through me and listened to the quiet lapping of the waves, talking in deep undertones. Finally, we reached a large sand dune with soft, dry sand and sat on it, burying our hands in the warm sand.

"You have five minutes to create a short skit about something this year," Mr. Marvin instructed. "What do you think when you think of Global Ecology Grade 9?"

We formed a small group of me, Clary, Biana, and Madeline. Out of the five minutes we had, we spent three of them arguing on what to act out.

"I think we should act out all the teachers," I suggested.

Clary shook her head. "We should act out Justin's Ferry."

Madeline held her hand out. "No way! We should do the Water Buffalo video!"

We kept arguing about the merits of each even when Biana held her hand out.

"Guys!" she reprimanded. "We don't have much time! Let's just do the Water Buffalo video."

So we assigned the jobs. and planned out the play just as Mr. Marvin called that time was up. We barely had time to plan it, much less practice it, so I hoped it would turn out to be a flop.

The plays began, each describing a moment we had experienced before. Imitating the teachers. Justin's Ferry when the homeless man intruded and some kid fell asleep watching the stars. Mrs. Bendich's horrors. Every moment we had experienced together, every moment that made us a family.

Laughter escaped my lips once again and again and again. Inside jokes. Imitations. Everything that brought us together. I thought back to what Mr. Marvin had said at the beginning of the year. We really were a family. And that was all that mattered.