Your Cramp, My Style

I once jumped off a small cliff into a lake.

Before the jump, I was noticeably nervous. I was shaking. My knees weak, arms were heavy… my friend’s mom’s spaghetti…

You get it.

There were loose rocks near the edge of the cliff, and what was underneath the water directly below the cliff was in question. I took all these things into account when discerning my approach to the jump. How fast should I approach the jump? How far out should I aim? Should I do a flip? Should I try an actual dive (after all, I’d seen cliff divers do it on TV. If they can do it, why not me? If my friend could do it — and he had — why couldn’t I?)

We were at a friend’s lake house for Spring Break, so there were cute girls around. There were manly teenagers around. I couldn’t embarrass myself. That would just be the end of my high school run for “Coolest Weirdo in the Land”. I couldn’t have that.