Dragon

"Henry, which one is your yacht?" the Black girl asked excitedly, hopping up and down.

"Her name is Dragon. She should be very conspicuous among these yachts," Henry said honestly, though he was full of mischief. "Really?" Marty Franklin shaded her eyes with a hand and searched for the large white yacht bearing that name. She looked back and forth several times in excitement, yet stubbornly failed to find the boat Henry had mentioned. She could not help feeling like she had been played. "Don't tell me you lied to me and that boat isn't docked at this pier at all?"

It was the girl who always kept her head lowered and seemed lacking in confidence who found the Dragon first. Julia Carpenter tugged at her companion's clothes and pointed at the five letters L00NG in front of them. "Is this the one?"

The girls, including Cathy Weber, all looked toward the boat the white girl was pointing at. At once, everyone was disappointed and dumbfounded, with a sense of betrayal mixed in.

Because the boat with "LO0NG" painted on it was not a yacht at all. At best, it was the sort of little boat fishing enthusiasts used on inland rivers. Not only was it shabby and worn-out, but installing four seats besides the driver's seat had crammed the boat completely full.

"What the hell is this?!" Marty Franklin shouted.

To the left stood a row of yachts as tall as a one-story building. To the right were medium and large luxury yachts with two or three decks of space.

And the boat they were supposed to board was a battered little inland vessel. The sort of boat where a single wave might send them from the surface to the seabed, then back to the surface, flipping over once