My cast-mates wave to the audience and step off of the stage. Lena follows with a punch to the air, and I swallow a laugh. Genevieve gives me a thumbs-up. I offer a weak smile in return.
“Alright, now. We have a special way to close up tonight,” Jeff gestures for me to join him and puts his arm over my shoulder. “This is Tarni Bird. And man, we love her a lot.”
My throat tightens, and my face heats. Jeff pats my back.
“She has written a poem about this camp and what it has meant to us. And I already know, it’s going to be brilliant.”
Despite the fact you haven’t heard it. I keep my smile pasted in place. Jeff winks. He hands me the microphone, applauds with everyone else, and walks away.
For two heartbeats, I am frozen again. The blinding stage lights cast the audience in shadows. The urge to run and hide swallows me up, but I take a deep breath and open my phone notes. I set my phone on a stand, making the crowd disappear. And focus on my writing.
“‘We are family.’”
“‘Twenty-nine days ago, I stepped off a plane . . . here. Twenty-nine days have felt like an eternity and a minute all at once. Before I knew it, I was hearing and speaking of things unexpressed to anyone else. Burdens were rolling off backs. And we could never go back. The only way to describe us was family. With who else could we be this crazy, this sane? With who else could we be this sad, this joyful? With who else could we be this teased, but this loved?’”
I smile shakily at the audience and scroll down.
“‘We are safe.’”
“‘Some of us are in true danger in our country. Some of us are in danger of being judged, ignored, hated. Some of us are in danger of ourselves. Some of us are all these things. That was my position. But here, we are safe to be. To try. To fail. I am rotten at foursquare, but no one ever said that. I am even worse at handball, but everyone continued to support me. And push me to do it even when I didn’t want to.’”
Everyone laughs. I find Maya in the crowd and gesture, “I’m watching you.”
“‘Even better than the ability to fail, I was able to share the rawest parts of me and still be embraced.’”
“‘We are free’”
“‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am a mess. For the past few years, I have tried to hide that mess to please people who never loved me. Exhausting, but I didn’t believe I could be loved any other way.’”
I swallow hard and wipe my eyes.
“‘I want to be liked, even when I am rolling on the floor with laughter at a terrible pun. I want to be respected, even when I am geeking out over something. I want to be loved when everything I say sounds like gibberish. With you, I can have that. With you, I can sob my heart out. With you, I am me. And because of you, I am free to keep being me.’”
“‘We are loved.’”
“‘I mean this so utterly and undeniably. The care surging through our group is insane. I think of our honoring times. I think of our bonfire nights, our dancing, our late-night conversations, and noon feasts. Love binds us tighter than tangled galaxies. Friends? This -.’”
I open my arms to the room, tears still rising through my throat. My nervousness flees away, cast out by care for this beautiful, strange, wandering crowd.
“‘- This can not be summed up by ‘friends.’ Soul mates. What else can you call a group of this many kids who dove into each other’s hearts the way we did? Our souls are all one in Christ. In our understanding of each other. Our hurting hearts met, and cracks began to seal. We’re still broken. We’re still hurting. But the past twenty-nine days have healed more than years.’”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“‘We are revived.’”
“‘The pain of the last few years has left a mark on my heart. But before I got here, I didn’t know it was present. You restored broken parts of me I didn’t even remember. And for a moment, summer lasted forever. You inspired me. You encouraged me. You have invigorated me for the road ahead.’”
“‘We are church.’”
“‘Never has a Communion touched me like ours. Never have I been more nourished. Never have I felt the Holy Spirit’s presence so strongly in so many. Never have I found more love for the Word. Never will I take church lightly again for we were living as one.’”
I look at the last paragraphs and take a deep breath. I lick my lips.
“‘We are leaving.’”
“‘Yet, as much as I hate goodbyes, I am not scared this time. Because your influence will continue. Our work will continue. Our laughter will continue. At “Noah’s” incredible acting. At shrieks in bone-chilling water. At foursquare antics. At showing up to dinner in full makeup and dresses. These days live on in my heart and will continue to sustain me because God was with us and is with us.’”
“‘We are church.’”
“‘We are revived.’”
“‘We are loved.’”
“‘We are free.’”
“‘We are safe.’”
“‘We are family.’”
“‘No distance can take away the short piece of heaven we have experienced. So we don’t have to fear and anguish over our separation. God moves with us. All of us. And so, though we will be miles apart. Though never in this life will all of us be together at the same time, we will forever be working together.’”
“‘We live as one.’”
I step back from the stand, and applause fills the amphitheater. The noise rushes over me like a torrent of rain. My nervousness rushes with it. I blink, trying to see past the blinding stage lights. Jeff walks back up, wiping his eyes. He pulls me into a hug.
“Beautiful, Tarni. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he smiles and lets go. “Tarni Bird, everyone!”
I laugh and brush my hair out of my warm face. I wave, walking off stage. A cheer rises, and I don’t have time to blink before a group hug ambushes me. I laugh again as Lena, Rachelle, the Harrison triplets, my roommates, and Amias all try to hug me at once.
“All right, all right, give her some space,” Maya orders.
Everyone else backs away. And of course, my roommates jump at me again.
“That was beautiful,” Genevieve whispers, squeezing me so tight I wince. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” I step out of their reach, grinning.
I yelp as Amias scoops me up in his arms.
“You were amazing!” He cheers, lifting my feet off the ground in the strength of his hug. “I told you your fears were over nothing.”
“And you were right,” I pretend to sigh.
My parents, grandparents, and Koa appear from the crowd, trying to hug me too. My eyes widen, then I sigh. I surrender to the flurry of embraces and accept that I will die of suffocation.
I mean -. I smile at the ceiling as people crowd around me. - dying from hugs is a pretty good way to go. And with a full heart, I shut my eyes. Home. One more night at home.
Chapter Fourteen: Goodbye
I wake to the sound of doom.
Genevieve’s alarm.
Every girl in the bungalow groans at once. I flop an arm over my face, scrunching up my nose as the noise continues.
“Genevievvve.”
“I hate it as much as you do,” her bunk creaks. “But it would be rude if I didn’t see him off.”
“Are you going to cry?” Maya shifts above me.
“Probably not. Gotta save my tears, you know.”
I watch in fascination as the least morning person I know pulls herself out of bed. Genevieve’s red hair tangles all the way to her waist. She scowls at the mirror. And then at the window, filling with light.
“No,” Abi’s quiet moan comes. “For once, I never want to get uuuppp.”
“Are you going to cry when you say goodbye to Drew?” Maya leans over the edge of the bunk with a little too much curiosity.
“We talked last night. Finally,” Abi sighs like the lovesick teenager she is.
“And?” Genevieve pauses, rifling throug
h her suitcase.
“He said he really likes me, but doesn’t think we should talk much about it yet. For now, we are going to keep in touch and keep getting to know each other. We will revisit the subject in a year. So . . . yeah.”
“Ugh. Lame,” Maya rolls out of view.
“Hey, we’re being smart,” Abi makes a face.
“I know. That’s what annoys me.”
We chuckle, and Abi rolls her eyes. I cross my arms and release a heavy sigh.
“Me too,” Genevieve echoes my sigh, putting on her jeans. “I want this day over with. And at the same time, wish it would last forever.”
“Summer doesn’t last forever,” I say almost without thinking.
“Jeez, Tarni, you don’t have to say it.”
I almost smile.
“I’m going to miss you, girls,” Abi peers down at us.
“Ugh! Abi!” Maya punches the bunk railing. “Don’t do that yet.”
“Everyone bring your water bottles,” Genevieve half-teases, pulling on a bright green shirt. “We need to rehydrate often thanks to all the tears lost.”
“You need to shut up, too,” Maya throws a pillow down at her.
Genevieve catches it and throws it back, “I’m heading out. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.”
She waves and walks out of the door. I marvel over her record dressing time for a moment, then roll over. A weight of silence fills our bungalow. I pull out my phone and open Instagram, trying to distract myself.
It doesn’t work.
The sun grows brighter, dooming us all. I rub my tired eyes. This is going to be an absolute nightmare. I sit up. My leg bounces on its own accord. I eye it for a moment but decide stopping requires too much effort. I take a deep breath. The smell of early morning fills my lungs, something somber and hopeful.
But not this morning.
“I have an idea,” I stand.
“Oh?” Maya glowers.
Abi doesn’t bother acknowledging me. I nod.
“Let’s jump in the cold springs.”
I expect cries of confusion and alarm, half-a-dozen questions about why and my sanity and the hour. Instead, Abi raises her head. She looks at me. Then at Maya.
“I’ll text Brynn and Drew,” Maya grabs her phone out of her covers.
“I’ll text Genevieve,” Abi agrees.
I smirk, shaking my head. We are crazy. I open my own texts and send one to Amias.
Hey. The girls, triplets, and I are going swimming in
the cold springs. Wanna join?
I toss my phone on my bed and search for my black floral swimsuit. I peer in the bathroom, grab the rack of random suits in the shower, and hurry back into the room.
“Here are yours,” I throw Abi’s and Maya’s onto their bunks.
I change, and my phone buzzes. I hurry back over.
Now???
I grin at Amias’s dubiousness. I sit back on my bed as my roommates get into their swimsuits.
Yup. And if you do it, I’ll get you a coffee.
A good coffee.
I grab my towel and hoodie. I might be crazy enough to jump in the cold springs at six-fifteen in the morning, but I am not bold enough to avoid all warmth. I look down at my phone.
Oof, tough one. Alrighty. Give me ten.
“Amias is in,” I announce to the room.
“So are the triplets,” Maya nods at her phone.
“Genevieve hasn’t seen her message yet, but she will probably join us,” Abi twists her long box braids into a bun. “No point waiting on her, though.”
I give her a thumbs-up and stuff my things into my bag. A few moments later, we walk outside. I shiver in the cool air. The springs are going to be freezing! I turn back to the path, following Abi and Maya. We walk over to the dining hall and sit on the steps. I fight a yawn, pretending the sunrise doesn’t exist.
“There they are,” Abi stands up.
I raise my eyebrows. Amias and the Harrison triplets walk towards us, dressed in swimsuits but bundled in towels and jackets.
“You are nuts,” Amias informs us.
“Not backing out, are you?” I stand and give him a hug.
“Nah. I have enough self-respect to see this through.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. Amias squeezes me tighter, and my heart aches.
“This was a good idea,” he decides. “Even if it’s crazy.”
“We need to pretend we have all the time in the world,” Brynn agrees in a low voice. “Because then, maybe we will feel like it too.”
I purse my lips but otherwise ignore her gloomy statement. I pull out of Amias’s grasp.
“All right. Shall we?” Maya bounces down the path.
We don’t speak much as we trek through the resort, feeling the relative earliness and our heavy hearts. So Maya laughs and jokes with Brynn and Kelly while I hold Amias’s hand tight and try desperately to stop thinking. The crisp air twists around our silence and towels. I shiver, moving closer to Amias. He glances down at me and smiles. Abi and Drew hold hands, silent and avoiding each other’s gaze.
We reach the cold springs. The sunrise tries to peer into the shadows, spotting the water with pink flashes. As if following some unwritten law, we ignore the bank and walk to the stone bridge. The boys regretfully take off their hoodies.
“Okay,” Drew hops on the ledge and offers Abi a hand. “Abi, you and me first, darlin’. I know you will bail otherwise.”
Brynn whistles at the pet name, and the rest of us laugh. Abi gives him a look.
“Yeah. Darlin’,” Drew shrugs despite his flushed cheeks. “Sue me, it’s early and our last day.
“I was referring to how you think I am a coward,” Abi lifts her chin.
“You haven’t jumped yet.”
Grimacing and glowering, she takes his hand and sits on the edge, “Oh. Oh, I hate this.”
“You haven’t tried the water once,” Maya crosses her arms.
“I still hate it.”
Drew chuckles, “Come on, Abi. On three.”
“Five.”
“Four,” he starts. “Three. Two.”
Abi shrinks back from the edge, eyeing the water.
“One!” Drew springs off.
After a muttered prayer, Abi follows. I hurry to the bridge wall and look down. With gasps, the couple’s heads emerge. Abi smacks water into Drew’s face.
“Gah!” Her shuddering gasps sound icier than the water. “I hate you. I hate you, Tarni! This. Is. So. Cold!”
“This,” Maya holds her hand over her heart. “Is perhaps the most hilarious thing I have seen in my life.”
“Agreed,” Kelly grins as her brother is nearly drowned by his “darlin’.”
“Now, I’mma join the fun!” Brynn hops over the bridge, straight into the water.
Maya jumps with a whoop. Which cuts off when she hits the water.
“Coming, Tarni?” Amias releases my hand.
“Oh, you know it,” I adjust my braid.
I march forward, sit on the bridge, and dive off.
And everything vanishes, swallowed up in the cold. My nose takes in the smell of ice, and my mouth fills with the taste of mud.
Dark.
Cold.
Exhilarating.
Losing feeling has never felt so much like finding it.
I swallow water in the shock of cold and swim to the surface, coughing and shivering. (Let me tell you, that is not a fun combo.)
“How is it?” Amias asks from above.
“Fine,” Maya manages in a high-pitched voice.
“Freezing my butt off!” Abi shrieks.
“That’s more like it,” Amias laughs, jumping from the bridge.
I grin and wait.
“Wowie!” He shouts when he surfaces. “Wow.”
“Pretty much!” My teeth clatter together.
Kelly dives in. But she emerges perfectly calm.
“Ah, you poor children,” she shakes her head.
But h
er teeth chatter together. Our laughter rattles with the cold. My brain hurts so badly, it’s hard to think. I reach my arms out for the sunrise. Reach for the last taste of summer.
We laugh and swim for as long as we can bear it. But for these few minutes, time freezes with everything else. We swim and chat, our teeth chattering. Genevieve arrives in her swimsuit five minutes late. And she jumps into the springs without a word about her goodbyes.
Soon, the cold bites through our numbness. We scramble out, the white kids’ faces pale and blue. I wrap myself in my towel, shivering uncontrollably. I look up, and my heart sinks down to my toes. Ice fills the cavity it leaves behind. One moment, I wish for the sun to arrive. The next, I fear what it means.
“Breakfast?” Kelly suggests.
“Breakfast,” Genevieve dries off and pulls a wrap dress around her.
I dry off a little longer before slipping into my hoodie. We walk back through the resort. Cheerful. So blissfully consumed with our cold, we can’t think of anything else. We race into the warm, empty dining hall, and Drew cheers his victory. My stomach aches with shivers and laughter. We walk to the buffet tables, scooping piles of food onto our plates.
“Last breakfast here,” Maya gazes mournfully at the crepes. “No more croissants or yogurt or any other loveliness.”
“Ugh, so sad,” Kelly agrees, chomping down on her toast.
“At least there will be good coffee again. Maybe,” I frown.
Amias squeezes my hand, and we walk to our table. We watch people file in. And out. Our lightheartedness dwindles away. I lick my honey-covered lips and look down at the table.
“What time does everyone leave?” Drew asks the dreaded question.
“Nine,” I whisper.
They stare at me for a long moment.
“I leave at five,” Genevieve offers in a small voice.
“We’re going at three-thirty,” Drew gestures between himself and his sisters.
“I am too,” Maya holds up a hand to Brynn. “We can sob on the bus together!”
“Yass!” Brynn snaps her fingers in the air.
“True queens cry together,” Kelly winks.
“Oh, you know it,” Maya throws a peace sign beside her eyes.
“I think I leave at noon,” Abi stares at the table.
Summer Doesn't Last Forever Page 18