by Tim McBain
Anyway, whatever Hellickson had left there was long gone.
Erin
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
10 days after
Kelly-
When I got back to the tent last night, my mom wasn’t there. I was kind of annoyed that I’d run all the way back when I could have spent a few more minutes with Max.
Just as I finished writing you, I heard her come in. I stowed my notebook in my bag and swung my legs around so I was in a sitting position. I could see the flicker of the tiki torches outside as my mom slipped inside. Night had fallen as I wrote, and I couldn’t resist pulling a little nag-reversal.
“Look who was out by herself after dark,” I said and waved a finger at her. “Naughty, naughty.”
“Don’t be cute,” she said, not sounding as if she found me cute in the slightest.
“Whatever,” I muttered and turned away.
I should have known she’d have no sense of humor about it. I’m pretty sure she lost it a long time ago.
“Where were you tonight?” she asked.
I assumed she was trying to suggest I’d been late, which was bullshit.
“What are you talking about? I was back well before dark.”
“Before that.”
“Oh,” I said. “Just hanging out with Breanne.”
“Breanne?” my mom repeated.
“Yeah.”
“That was Breanne I saw you with outside the fence?”
My life flashed before my eyes in that second. She was talking about Max. She must have seen us sitting under the tree together. Jesus… we’d been holding hands for part of it, too.
Busted.
“No.”
“Who was it?”
“Max.”
“Max,” she said the word as if she was testing the sound of each letter. “Who’s Max?”
“My friend.”
“And this Max is here with his parents?”
“No.” I practically gulped as I swallowed. “He’s in the National Guard.”
My mom’s lips shriveled into a little pout.
“Uh-huh. And how old is he?”
“Nineteen.”
She started to shake her head back and forth.
And suddenly I realized how fucking stupid it all was. Am I not allowed to have friends that are boys? It’s not like he’s some thirty-year-old letch. Frankly, he’s probably a better influence than Breanne.
“Why does it matter?”
Instead of answering the question, she said, “From now on, you need to stay away from them. They have a job to do. They’re working, and they don’t need you in their way.”
“Oh, then there’s no problem,” I said, laying the attitude on thick. “Max and I only hang out when he’s off duty.”
“Erin, I don’t want you bothering those—”
I couldn’t take it anymore. Does she think I’m that stupid? Or is it just that she’s used to me blindly complying with her dumb rules?
“If this is about me bothering them, then why did you ask Max’s age? I don’t see how the two ideas relate.”
“Because you are sixteen years old! You’re a child.”
And there it was.
“What does that have to do with us being friends?” I emphasized the last word.
“Those boys have no business being friends with girls your age.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Well that’s how it is. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” I felt tears welling in my eyes. Hot, angry tears.
She sighed and sat down on the cot across from me.
“I know it seems like I’m being unfair right now. Lord knows, when I was your age, I thought all of my mother’s rules were completely arbitrary and made just to make me miserable. But looking back, I know she only wanted what was best for me.”
She reached out and put her hand on my knee.
“I’m your mother, Erin. It’s my job to protect you.”
“I know that,” I said, sniffling. “But you don’t have to protect me from Max. He’s a nice person.”
She nodded.
“I don’t doubt that.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected. She’d actually listened to me for once, which was practically unheard of.
And then she added, “But it’s still inappropriate.”
The words stung as if she’d slapped me across the face with them. She hadn’t been listening at all. She’d only been feeding me more BS so I’d submit.
“Says who?” I demanded.
“Says me!” she said, her tone saying there was no point in arguing further.
“Well fuck being appropriate!”
Her head reared back, eyes wide and showing too much of the whites.
“And it’s just a mystery where you would have picked up that kind of language,” she said.
“Oh yeah,” I said, matching her sarcasm. “I’d never heard the word fuck before I got here. My poor virgin ears.”
Her lips shrank into that harsh little circle again.
“I wonder what your father would think to hear you speaking to me like this.”
Of course she’d throw that in my face. But I was beyond caring now.
“He’d probably agree with me. He wasn’t a psychotic control freak. Unfortunately, he left me here with one.”
Yeah, I know. Cold. Totally bitchy and uncalled for. I guess at least I stopped short of saying that I wished she’d been the one who died.
Sigh.
Also slapping a sleeping bag shut is a lot less effective than slamming a door, let me tell you.
When I woke up this morning and remembered our argument, I went right back to being pissed. She must feel the same way, because we’ve been giving each other the silent treatment all morning.
We were in the middle of our shift in the quarantine tent, and I walked to the back with a basket of sheets and found her hunched over an empty bed with her eyes closed. I thought she might be crying.
Hearing my approach, she turned around. There were no tears that I could see, but she did have that sour look on her face and those two lines between her eyebrows.
“Are you OK?” I asked, feeling like I had to say something.
“I’m fine. Just a headache. The propane from the cookstoves always does it.”
“Maybe you should take a day off—”
“I can’t just take a day off. People depend on me!” she snapped.
“You don’t have to bite my head off. I was trying to help.”
I turned to go.
“Erin, wait,” she said and stepped closer so she could pat my elbow. “I’m sorry I barked at you. You know I get snippy when I don’t feel well.”
I almost said something about how she must never feel well, then. I managed to bite my tongue, but I pulled away from her touch.
“I have to get back to work. Richie needs my help changing Mrs. Robertson’s bed.”
Maybe I should have taken the opportunity to smooth things over, but I was still pretty mad about the night before.
After my shift ended, I wandered around until I found Breanne. She was in her own tent for once, watching her dad and stepmom play Rummy. I knocked on the canvas and poked my head inside, and she practically leaped off her cot.
“Later!” she called to her parents and then ushered me back outside. “Thank God you’re here. They are so boring, I’m pretty sure my heart stopped for a few minutes.”
I snorted.
“You missed me that much, huh?”
“Of course. And I have huge news.”
“Let’s hear it, then.”
“You’re going to love me. You’re going to fall on your knees and kiss my feet. You’re going to—”
I grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Will you just tell me already?”
She grinned so wide I thought her lips might flip inside out.
“You and me,” she said, drawing it out for maximum suspense, “have a date with M
ax and Bennett. Tomorrow. After dinner.”
“Wait, what? A date? What are you talking about?”
Those were just three of the approximately five thousand different thoughts and questions and worries spinning around my brain.
“OK, it’s not technically a date. I mean, that isn’t what I told Max. Oh! Did he show you the radio he got working?”
I pressed my knuckles into the side of my head, trying to slow the cyclone swirling in my mind.
“Back up. What did you tell Max?”
“I just suggested we get together again. The four of us. Like the night of the big flash. Except… well, I wouldn’t say skinny-dipping is completely out of the question, but—”
“Breanne, what did you say to him?” I hissed.
“Will you relax? I played it totally cool. As far as he’s concerned, it’s just four friends hanging out.”
I relaxed a little. Enough to think more clearly and realize there was a big, gaping hole in this plan.
“Don’t Max and Bennett hate each other?”
Breanne scoffed and waved my silly suggestion away.
“They worked it out.”
“Really? Because the last time I saw them in the same room together, they were working it out with their fists.”
“Trust me. This is what boys do. They fight, and then they get over it. They don’t hold grudges the way girls do.”
I must have had some lingering doubt in my eyes, because Breanne put a hand on either side of my head and pressed her face so close our noses almost touched.
“Will you stop freaking out over every little detail? I assure you that Max was 100% down for it.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure he likes you.”
Suddenly I groaned. I’d been so worried that she’d blabbed something she shouldn’t to Max that I hadn’t even thought about my mom yet.
“What now?” she asked.
I gave her a quick recap of the argument from the night before and explained how my mom had forbidden me to go anywhere near Max or any of the other guys for that matter.
“So don’t tell her.”
“You don’t get it. After the fight we had last night, she’s going to want a detailed itinerary anytime I’m not within sight. I guarantee you the next time I set foot in that tent, she’s going to grill me about where I was and who I was with.”
I frowned, kicking at a rock.
“So lie,” Breanne said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.
“And if I get caught?”
A mischievous smile spread slowly over her lips.
“The risk of getting caught is part of the fun.”
We passed a handwritten sign for tomorrow night’s reading from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. A group of people from camp have been doing a sort of radio play, where they read the book out loud and every reader is a different character. I saw part of one the other night, and it wasn’t half bad.
Breanne aimed a pink fingernail at the block letters on the paper.
“Tell her we’re going to that.”
I considered it for half a second.
“What if she goes and sees that I’m not there?”
Breanne crossed her arms and sighed. She snapped her fingers.
“OK. How about this? Tell her that me and my stepmom invited you to do laundry in the river with us. We have soap.”
My head was already shaking back and forth.
“She’ll know that was BS when I don’t bring back any clean clothes.”
“Idiot! We’ll have time to do our laundry before we meet up with Max and Bennett. I’ll even come by your tent lugging some detergent to help sell it. You can volunteer to do hers too,” she said and clapped her hands together. “It’s perfect!”
I scratched at a mosquito bite while I let the plan sink in.
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
“I can’t believe I’m volunteering to do laundry,” Breanne grumbled. “Hey! If you see Max, ask him if we can borrow that radio.”
As predicted, my mom gave me the third degree when I got back to our tent. In that pseudo-casual way she has, where she’s trying not to sound like a nag.
I had to resist the urge to start laying the groundwork for the laundry scheme early. If I brought it up now, there’s too much chance for something to go wrong.
Your sly and devious BFF,
Erin
Erin
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
11 days after
Kelly-
I won’t lie. I woke up with butterflies in my stomach, thinking about sneaking out to see Max tonight. Maybe I should feel guilty, but I don’t.
Breanne was leaving the mess tent earlier just as I got there. I could tell by the way her eyes were all red that she’d been crying. Instead of getting in line, I pulled her aside.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
She sniffed and fiddled with her sleeve.
“Bennett and I had a fight.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. He’s still PMSing. I told him how we were all gonna hang out, and he flipped out about the stress he’s under, and how he doesn’t need me deciding his plans for him.”
“I guess that means tonight is off,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed, even though I was.
“Yeah. I guess so,” Breanne said, then raised her eyes to meet mine. “Or not.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well just because Bennett’s being a butt doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go.”
“Are you crazy?” I asked.
There was no way I was going without her.
“Don’t you see? This is even better! You and Max… alone…”
I started to shake my head.
“Come on, Erin! This is your chance!”
All the butterflies I’d had since that morning fluttered en masse. I almost got dizzy thinking about it.
Before I could change my mind, I said, “Yeah. OK. I’ll do it.”
“Yes!” Breanne yipped.
I was surprised how excited she was about it.
“So we’ll stick to the plan, just like we talked about before. You’ll tell your mom about the laundry. I’ll come by with the detergent. We’ll go wash our crap really quick, and then — oh! — I can help you get ready!”
Doubt began to fester again, but Breanne grabbed my hand.
“It’s going to be perfect. Trust me.”
We went over the scheme one more time before parting ways. I was so jittery, I almost couldn’t eat, but I forced the spaghetti down anyway and practiced playing it cool so I could get through the rest of my shift in the quarantine tent without my mom figuring out something was up.
When our shift was over, it took me the whole walk back to our tent to work up the nerve to ask my mom about the laundry. I kept thinking of all the reasons she might say no. Or what if she insisted on coming along?
By the time we got back, I’d come to the realization that our little plan was riddled with problems.
But it was too late. Breanne would be there any minute with the detergent. I had to speak up.
“Um… So… I ran into Breanne earlier. At lunch. They’re going to the river to do laundry today, and they said I could come do mine, too. And use their soap. I mean… If it’s alright with you.”
I threw in that last bit about wanting her permission, because I knew she’d be all over it.
“Well, that was nice of them,” she said. “It’s fine with me, of course.”
“And if you have anything you want me to wash…” I offered.
“Oh.” She sounded surprised.
Shit. I’d gone too far with it. Kissed too much ass. Especially since we were still barely speaking to one another since our fight. She was getting suspicious.
I added a sullen shrug and made my tone a little more petulant, like I didn’t really want to be making such a sacrifice.
“I figure I’m doing it anyway.”
I put out my hand, forcing myself to keep my posture and my face sulky. But inside I was giggling like a lunatic. The plan was working.
My mom pulled the pillowcase from her pillow and stuffed her few pieces of dirty laundry inside.
“They’re short-handed in the quarantine tent this evening. So I told Dr. Kaiser I’d take an extra half shift. Can I trust you to be back here before dark?”
“Yes, mother,” I said.
It seemed stupid to me that she’d be taking an extra shift when she hadn’t been feeling well the past few days, but whatever. It’s her life.
Just as she placed the sack in my hand, a voice came from the other side of the tent.
“Knock, knock!”
Breanne barged in, toting a mega-sized jug of detergent in an orange bottle as promised.
“You ready?” she asked.
I held my two bags of laundry aloft. “Yep.”
“Remember what I said about being back before dark,” my mom said.
“I know.”
I shot Breanne an impish smile behind my mother’s back and paused to hold the tent flap out of the way.
Breanne passed through, and I released the canvas curtain.
The sun was warm on my face, and I squinted up at the clear blue sky.
“Did Max say it was OK if we borrowed the radio?” Breanne said, and I froze.
What the hell was she doing? Why would she even mention Max when we were still within earshot of the tent?
I stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. She bit her lip.
Maybe my mom hadn’t heard.
“Erin.”
My name sliced through the air like a cleaver.
I turned. My mom was standing in the entryway, hands on hips.
“I need to speak with you, please.”
I glanced at Breanne before slinking back inside the tent.
“Is this how you think things work now? I ask you not to do something, and you go right out and do it?”
The funny thing was, I hadn’t even seen Max since she’d forbidden me to have contact with him.
“I didn’t—”
“How am I supposed to trust you when this is how you behave?”
Breanne burst back into the tent.
“It was my fault. I asked her to talk to him.”