by Molly Booth
But wouldn’t Bee have told me if it was?
“I’m a genius.” Donald twirled his pointer fingers.
“But, genius,” Margo whispered, “what comes after that? After they hear they like each other?”
“Yeah, how do they get together?” Claudia asked.
“Aha! That’s the best part!” Donald bounced on the bed. “They have to figure it out, and we get to watch!”
Claudia lit up. “Okay, that’s good. But what if they don’t figure it out?”
“Oh, they will.” Margo nodded. “Eventually. Probably. Hana, what do you think?”
Three pairs of eyes on me.
I wanted Bee to be happy. And right now, when she and Ben weren’t busy shouting at each other, they were ignoring each other. Something had happened, and she wouldn’t even talk to me about it, but I could tell she was still upset by whatever it was. I wanted to fix that for her. Maybe this would.
“Let’s do it,” I said, finally.
“We have the sisterly blessing!” Donald whooped. “Let’s start this week, so they’re paired up for the sparkler party.”
Margo shook her head. “Darlin’, you’re one part schemer, one part disgusting romantic.”
“Darlin’,” he twanged back, “I’ve never claimed otherwise. And now you all get to share in my glory!” Donald grinned. “Because we’ll all be the camp cupids this summer. And this will be our ultimate victory, in the name of love!”
Claudia, Margo, and I looked at one another, wide-eyed. Donald had finally lost it. I grabbed his water bottle from the floor and tossed it to him.
“Bro”—Claudia moved toward the door with me—“go to sleep.”
We slammed out into the night air, and Margo followed a few moments after.
“I tucked him in,” she whispered.
On the trail back, Margo couldn’t stop giggling about our plan, and her giggles combined with the night peepers made a soothing, happy soundtrack for our walk.
At Little Bat, she turned to us and said, “Well, I’ll leave before this gets awkward,” and bounced away.
“Good night!” I shouted after her.
“Thanks for not making it awkward!” Claudia called half-heartedly.
In the dark, I couldn’t quite see Claudia’s face. But I could feel her hands, and then her lips, her breath. I could feel her. I wanted her. My mind pulsed, begging this night to never end.
But eventually, the kisses got longer and sleepier. One more kiss on my cheek. A whisper:
“To be continued.”
Forever, I thought.
I watched her leave, striding back to her own cabin, her shoulders slightly hunched. This adorable, awkward, perfect human was mine.
I stayed outside for just a few more moments, and then, as if just for me, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, lighting up the world in a blue crush. I stood on Little Bat’s porch, listening to the peepers and the waves, still feeling Claudia’s lips on mine, aching for them for one more second. I wouldn’t need to make any paper stars tonight. I was already filled up with my own.
A light caught the corner of my left eye. I turned to see Margo and her flashlight, popping up back down the other side of the trail, near the boys’ cabins. The exclusive exclusive after-party. I wondered how any of them could even stay awake. I’d just been kissed within an inch of my life, and I’d never been so happy to snuggle down into my sleeping bag. It was easier to fall asleep when you were happy.
COUNTDOWN TO CAMP: zero days, one hour.
I had been waiting my entire life for this. Well, umm, about five years. But that’s still a long time. Fine. I had been waiting more than a third of my life for this.
My mom found Camp Dogberry when I was eight, and she’d sent us here every year since. My sisters came for the first time last year, but they’d been to camp to pick us up and drop us off so many times it was a tradition for them too. We all loved camp. The food was great, the cabins were cozy (especially Little Bat—and it has a skylight roof), and I wasn’t one of those campers who got homesick. In the past, it had been this big escape, but I still got to be with Ben. So it was perfect.
Mom woke me up with a finger to her lips. She pointed to the girls—they were still asleep. She whispered she’d gotten a babysitter for the morning so we could drive up to camp alone together.
“And get breakfast?”
“Yes, we’ll get breakfast.”
I quickly showered and threw on the first-day outfit I’d prepared: well-worn red Camp Dogberry T-shirt, so I looked official, running shorts and Keen hiking sandals. I said good-bye to Smooshie. I felt bad I couldn’t say good-bye to Ava and Layla, but they were sleeping like logs. Snoring logs. I hoped I didn’t have eight-year-olds in my group.
We put my big bag out in the car. It was heavy, but I was positive I hadn’t forgotten anything. And I’d brought an extra pair of Ben’s pants, just in case.
Mom and I talked about everything at the diner, even though we’d talked about all of it for the last week straight. Which counselor and cabin I wanted, which campers I hoped were coming back, what they’d name the goats this year. I told Mom the story of Capture the Flag two years ago again—the one where Ben had defeated Claudia with a gorilla suit.
We finished breakfast and got back in the car. As we passed the town line, I felt an itty-bitty pang of sadness. We’d just moved here. Even after the month at Aunt Deb’s, I still wasn’t used to walking around a home freely, no longer waiting for a bomb to go off, a burst of ringing anger.
Dishes! Money! Your mother! Your brother! You people!
I winced. How long would it take to forget all of that?
Camp. Think camp.
Countdown: thirty minutes.
I’d wanted to be a camp counselor since that first summer. The counselors were so cool. They were all best friends, and they got to stay up late and decide which games we were going to play, which art projects we were going to do. I wanted so badly to be a part of that.
Ben always said it wasn’t as glamorous a job as it looked, but I think he just told me that so I wouldn’t be jealous. Now I didn’t have to be jealous anymore, because this year I’d get to spend the entire summer at camp as a counselor-in-training. CIT. I loved saying the acronym out loud. It felt professional.
We roared up I-95, and the trees and bushes got wilder and wilder the farther north we went. Mom chatted on the way up about the girls, and how they’d be there in a week so I didn’t have to miss them too much.
“Can’t wait!” I said. I knew in my heart that was true, it’s just my heart was kind of full of other things at the moment. Like my cabin assignment and being on staff with my favorite counselors.
Countdown to being a first-year counselor: 1 year, 364 days.
“Nessie, are you going to get out of the car?”
We were here!!
Warm, sunny Camp Dogberry, which always felt warmer than the rest of Maine. I opened the door and breathed in that camp air: boat grunge, saltwater, animal poop, and rising bread. I hopped out of the car, grabbed my backpack, and tried not to run to check in. The dirt parking lot felt like a red carpet under my sneakers. I was a CIT this year!!
“Vanessa!” Bee checked me in with a big hug. Her hair was up in this braided faux-hawk do. She looked so cute. No wonder my brother secretly loved her.
“Bee!!” I grinned. “Where’s Ben?”
“In Dam, stuffing his face.” She smiled.
“Sounds like Ben.” Mom came up behind us, carrying my bigger bag. “Hey, Bee”—she kissed her cheek—“is your mom around?”
“In the office.” Bee nodded. “She said to tell her when you got here.”
“I’ll go find her myself, thanks!” Mom said. She kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”
“Sure, sure!”
I hugged Mom, and she went off in search of Nik. Our good-byes at camp were never super sad or long, because she came to visit a lot. Or to drop off something Ben f
orgot. And she always wrote me letters and postcards, even though we were only a couple hours apart.
I was just about to ask Bee what my cabin was, when I got slammed by Sophia, right in the stomach.
“Your bangs are so cute I’m going to die!!”
“Sophia!” I laughed. “You’re going to kill me!”
“With love!!” she screamed, squeezing tighter.
When she finally released me, I took a moment to check out my best camp friend: dark tan skin, brown curly hair, wicked grin, shorter than me this year!! Wearing an all-pink ensemble, complete with pink handkerchief and pink sunglasses. Sophia took her color coordination seriously.
“I missed you so much!” she squealed.
“I couldn’t tell!!” I smiled.
Somewhere behind her, my other best camp friend, Wallace, waved at me. I smiled—the same black, cowlick-y hair, ridiculously pale skin, and a new NASCAR T-shirt. He was tall and gangly this year, which was weird. I waved back through Sophia’s bubbling, and eventually made it over to say hi.
Before we could really catch up, though (I had to tell them both about the divorce and the big move), Bee ushered us into the dining hall with the rest of the CITs for our first meeting.
Walking into Dam was how I would imagine walking into the great hall in a castle. The big main room was made of beautiful, spiral-y wood. Slabs of enormous trees were loosely shaped into long tables. The walls were covered in fading charts and maps of Maine’s animals and plants, and an abandoned wasp nest hung like a disco ball from rafters in the center of the room. The poles and crossbeams were wrapped in twinkle lights that were never turned off. At the back, there was a friendly window—the drive-thru window, we called it—where you could talk to the cook, Shane. And where you ordered eggs. Next to it, a narrow wooden door led back to the kitchen for dish duty.
Not even dish duty could make this place less magical.
“He-llo! Nessie?” Sophia’s voice cut through my dreamy entry. “Come on!” Most people at camp called me by Ben’s nicknames, which I always forgot at first. I jumped and went to go sit down with her and Wallace. At the table were the other CITs this year, Joe and Isabelle. This was their second year, which meant they got to be first-year counselors next year. I was so jealous.
“So,” I said as I slid in next to Sophia and Wallace. “Did you guys know that Claudia chopped off all her hair?”
Wallace’s eyes widened. Sophia’s mouth dropped open. “No. Way. Why would she—”
“All right, kiddos! Welcome back!” We looked to the top of the room, near the fireplace, and there stood Nik and Andy, both in cargo shorts, green camp T-shirts, and baseball caps; both smiling; and both holding clipboards. If I’d taken a picture of them right now, that would be, like, the quintessential Nik and Andy shot.
First, they doled out cabin assignments. I got Moose with Margo!! I’d wanted Little Bat, but I guess it was covered, since it already had two counselors, and the Leonato sisters were the best counselors ever. But Moose was a cute cabin, with a cute purple bench out front. And I loved Margo, and now I’d get to hear her bedtime songs all summer.
Sophia got Connie in Puffin, and Wallace got Donald in Coyote. Wallace was really excited about it, and Sophia just shrugged. I knew she probably wanted Margo—she kind of worshipped her style. I felt a little bad.
“We’re all so excited to have you here,” Andy finished, after the last assignment. “And to get you guys trained so you can be the best Dogberry counselors ever someday.”
“Much better than this year’s,” Nik added. “They’re terrible.”
“Hey!” called voices from the kitchen. Everyone laughed.
“We’ll give you”—Bee looked at her watch—“fifteen minutes to stow your stuff, and then it’s back here for the first hour of orientation. Now, we need three volunteers.”
There were six of us total, and we all raised our hands.
“Excellent.” Nik laughed. “You can all take out the compost buckets on the way to the cabins. Pairs are better anyway, since they’re heavy. Let’s get going!”
A couple other CITs, including Sophia, groaned loudly. I didn’t say anything. Okay, so compost was gross—every piece of food scrap from the camp went in there—but I was determined to be the most hirable, helpful CIT there ever was. No way was I screwing up my chances of working here like Ben. Speaking of, guess who was waiting at the compost buckets?
“Hey, Nessie!”
I ran up and threw my arms around him. He gave me a squeeze, ruffled my hair, and turned and greeted the other CITs warmly.
“Now, who’s ready to help the environment??”
The other CITs looked doubtful, but I raised my hand. After we lugged the gross glop to the garden, he grabbed my big bag and walked me to Moose.
“Everyone’s really excited you’re a CIT this year,” he chatted happily. “All the girl counselors fought over you, gladiator-style.”
“And Margo won?” I smiled.
“Naturally.” Ben nodded. “She called on her vicious woodland creatures to help.”
I laughed. I liked my brother even more at camp—he was more energetic and just…happier. He had that layer of magic camp dust on him now. Soon I’d have it too.
We paused outside my cabin. I wondered where Margo was. I wanted to make a new, profesh impression on her.
“So everything’s good at home?” Ben asked. I knew what he wanted to know.
“Everything’s good,” I assured him. “He hasn’t called more than he’s supposed to. Layla and Ava are so excited to come next week once Jewish Community Center camp is over.”
“Good old JCC.”
“And Mom got an A on her first quiz in her summer courses,” I offered.
He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t even want to know how you found that out.”
I smiled. “I have my ways.”
Mom leaves her computer open sometimes. Or sometimes she leaves her phone out. Or not out, but easily accessible. I just like to make sure everything’s okay.
“But yeah, everything’s good,” I finished, anxious to get into my new space. “Except Smooshie’s definitely mad you left again. I feed him treats, but I don’t have those magic Ben chin-scritching skills.”
Our cat inexplicably loved Ben with every long, floofy gray tuft of fur on his body.
“I miss him,” he said wistfully. “I hope he writes.”
I laughed and gave him one more hug. “Okay, I need to go in.”
“See you later, on Monarch!”
Oooooh right, evening games tonight, special for just CITs and counselors. I loved evening games. I guessed I would love them even more with Ben running them now.
The cabin was empty, but there was a colorful note from Margo on my bed—the one on the opposite side of the room from hers.
Nessie!
You’re my CIT now. I promise to rule over you with fairness and as little gloating as possible. Here is a tiara I made Donald make for you. Also, I saved one of the baby goats for you to name.
Love love love,
Can’t wait to see you,
Margo
I sighed happily, put on the daisy crown, and held the note to my heart for a brief second. And then I ran to orientation, because I realized I was already five minutes late!!
THE ACTIVITY LEADERS were set to come that afternoon for a few hours to organize and set up their spaces, which meant Ben and I would be on opposite ends of camp, thank goodness, since I was Raph’s improv assistant this year. Margo would be with Doc in nature, Donald with Nell in art, and Claudia, lucky her, with Ben in sports. Seriously, I couldn’t believe he was leading an activity. Mom would neither confirm nor deny, but I suspected that he’d planned nothing this week. What a Ben-shaped train wreck.
“Raphael’s here!” Mom called when I walked into Dam. She was sitting at the paperwork table. Dad was in the corner with the CITs, happily supervising their camp nametag creation.
I looked around wild
ly. No beautiful man. “Wait, here here?”
“Luna!”
“Thanks!” I grabbed a camp calendar and dashed back out the door, hearing the group chuckle on my way out.
Luna Moth was our all-purpose building, in between Painted Turtle (art) and the boat shed. It was newer than the other buildings and had bright green trim instead of red. The first floor of Luna’s kind of a catchall for stuff we have at camp that doesn’t have any other place. Part library, part counselor hangout, part trial room for Kangaroo Court. It was big and sunny, with enormous windows on all sides, and since there were squishy purple-and-pink rugs piled on the floor, it was the only building where you were allowed to take off your shoes. It was also where all improv classes took place, which made it the best building.
But it was only the best building when the best activity leader ever was inside it. And, actually, the only person in the world who knew my last-summer secrets.
I burst through the door and saw him at the back of the room, hanging up posters. “Raph!”
“Bee!”
I slid off my shoes and toppled into him. I was a lot bigger than he was. I barely had time to take in his slick new haircut—short on the sides and long, styled, and suave on top. I wondered if he partially did it to smooth out his receding hairline. Well, it totally worked. He wore his usual brightly colored shorts, salmon this time, and a striped tank top.
“It has been forever.” He smiled. Raph had a perfect small mouth, with perfect small teeth.
“I can’t believe you’re finally here!!” I squeezed his hands. Now it really felt like summer had arrived.
“Neither can I, let me tell you.” He sighed. “I had such a bad health year in New York. I got terrible asthma. Thank God for camp! I can actually breathe out here.” He closed his eyes and took a big breath.
Raphael was in his late twenties, doing a masters program in directing in New York City.
“That’s awful!” I shook my head. “I know you love it, but I get so claustrophobic when I’m in a city.”
We’d done family trips to Portland and Boston, and one to New York City to see some shows. Amazing theatre, way too many people for me, and not enough trees or stars.