Nothing Happened

by Molly Booth

  This I could speak to. I really did think Ben was the best. “Totally. He’s hard-working and goal-oriented, and he’s so good with his little sisters. And he might be the nicest person at camp.” When I said it out loud like this, I really did believe that Bee and Ben would be perfect for each other. I almost couldn’t believe it hadn’t happened already.

  Margo nodded along, and then, as I finished, got that wicked grin on her face. “Wait, what about Claaaaudia?”

  “Claudia’s not nice like Ben’s nice,” I explained. But that sounded bad. Whoops. “I mean, she’s nice, but she’s also…”

  “Dark? Brooding? Sexy?” Margo wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  “Maaaybe.” I giggled back. Sexy. Tents. Sexy tents.

  “But, wait—why don’t you just tell Bee all that about Ben?” Margo leveled suddenly. “I mean, you’re her sister—wouldn’t she listen to you?”

  “To me?” I laughed. “No way. Ben’s kind of an off-limits subject. She’s never…She wouldn’t let me, even if I tried to. She’d just change the topic or distract me.” It was true. It usually worked on me, too, embarrassingly.

  Margo nodded. “She hides those feels so well….”

  Did she?

  “…She can be tough.”

  “Very tough,” I said, hoping Bee would like that. Tough was a Bee word.

  “And besides, if she knew he liked her, she’d have so much more ammo to make fun of him,” Margo pointed out.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, before I could stop myself. “I wouldn’t want him to get hurt.” That was true. I was terrified that Bee was going to hurt Ben—or vice versa—more than they already had. I knew what heartbreak was like. Suddenly, I super wanted this conversation to be over.

  “That’s real,” Margo said. “I guess Ben’ll just spend the summer hiding sad erections in his sleeping bag.”

  I choked on my own laughter.

  Suddenly, the toilet in Bee’s stall flushed.

  “Ghost toilet!” Margo screamed, and we both burst out laughing and tore out of the bathroom, down to the waterfront, leaving my sister emotionally reeling in a toilet stall.

  I CAN’T MOVE. I can’t breathe.

  I’d climbed up onto the toilet back and accidentally stepped on the flush handle on the way down.

  After Margo screamed and they ran out of the bathroom, the familiar whirring started in my ears. They pulsed hot. I stumbled out of the stall, yanked on a faucet—cold water—and splashed it on my face and ears.

  Ben, telling Claudia and Donald that he’s in love with me?

  In love with me?

  I heaved a breath, looked up at myself in the mirror. Early morning puffiness, braids flopping to one side, boobs kind of lopsided in my one-piece.

  Me?

  Seriously?

  After all of that?

  IT SHOULD’VE BEEN uncomfortable to make out on a stack of tarps, but I barely noticed. Every once in a while I could feel them crinkling under us.

  First I kissed him, and after a moment, he kissed me. And then I lost count, but it just seemed like we were kissing each other. Press, push, tongues, release, repeat. Passing breaths back and forth. Why did it feel so good?

  Ben’s arms held me close, and almost every part of me was touching every part of him. Maddening. I wondered which move, which kiss, brush, or graze, would strike and burst us both into flames?

  Now his hands were on my neck, his lips on my ear. I shuddered. If I did the same thing back to his ear, was that copying? I tried it. He didn’t seem to care if it was original.

  His hand moved down; his fingers paused at the edge of my T-shirt hem.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Then my shirt was off. Then his shirt was off. Skin against skin, I felt dizzy. It felt like I’d always wanted to touch him like this. Be touched like this.

  But even with all the contact, it still didn’t feel like enough. Because we needed to be closer than this. This was nowhere near close enough. Whatever that feeling was, it kept us going….

  Finally, after what felt like hours, we drifted off in each other’s arms, shirtless with bruised lips.

  And when we woke up, everything had changed.

  I DRIED THE cold water off my face. Had Ben been feeling this way this whole year, just like me? Did he really want me? Me?

  Of course you.

  Because Ben’s yours, too.

  The thought popped into my head without warning, and I gasped. Actually gasped, by myself alone in the bathroom. But I’d been so harsh to him since he’d arrived. How could this be real?

  But how could it not? Why would they all know otherwise? Did Hana and Margo really think I was too proud to admit I was in love with Ben?

  Wasn’t I?

  I took deep breaths, but that just let in a suffocating rush of bathroom mildew and bubbly antibacterial soap.

  I needed air.

  I pushed open the bathroom door. Outside had changed. The sun was finally beginning to rise, now pink-and-gold. The grass, dew, cabins awash with yellow glow. My feet automatically steered me down to the waterfront.

  “Hey, sleepyhead!” Margo called as I approached.

  Margo. She clearly thought I’d judged her for hooking up with Bobby. Well, I had. And for the first time, I actually felt bad about it.

  “Morning!” I replied, my voice somehow working without me.

  A dozen campers swarmed me, and I gently led them back down to the water, patting heads and asking questions, not quite sure what I was saying. Maddie and Jay bragged to the group that they’d gotten me sent to Kangaroo Court. I managed to act put out.

  “You missed the warm-up,” Hana said, concerned. “Why don’t you do some jumping jacks, and we’ll wait?”

  “Okay,” I said. Because what else would I do. “Will you all count for me?”

  My trusty, disloyal campers cheered me on, and once I was through, we went out to the dock and lined up all along it.

  “Polar bears at the ready?” Hana called.

  “Ready!!” The kids screeched, giggling.

  “One…two…three…jump!”

  I didn’t jump immediately. The spray hit me, fiercely cold, and I balked. But there was no turning back now, particularly because I knew if I didn’t jump, the campers would pull me in, waterfront safety be damned.

  Instead, I sat on the edge of the dock and carefully lowered myself in. Torturous, but somehow more manageable than a plunge. When I was up to my waist, I let myself fall—icy liquid closed over my head, and I came up screaming, much to the delight of everyone around me.

  That was the worst of it. I went under again and again. Partly because then no one could accuse me of half-assing polar bear swim and make a case for extending my sentence.

  And one more reason.

  When I dove under, I was alone, and if only for a few freezing seconds, I could think. The cold water cleared my head. Voices giggled and shouted above me, people who wanted my attention. But I wasn’t really there. I was sinking, floating, feeling minuscule grains of salt pricking my skin in a million places.

  And I knew I hadn’t imagined or dreamed it.

  Any of it.

  Ben.

  Every time before I submerged, I took a breath and held Ben with it, tightly suspended in my chest.

  I loved him.

  I loved him.

  I loved him.

  I HAVE TO tell you, I was totally relieved when we got to Pirate Day. Thursday Theme Days at Camp Dogberry were always fun—we dressed up, there were special activities—but as a camper, I never appreciated Pirate Day the way I did now.

  Because the kids spend the second half of the day on boats, being all pirate-y. And those less waterfront-inclined counselors/CITs get the afternoon off. We made up for it by working on another theme. I’d signed up for Halloween Day in a few weeks. So today, Pirate Day, I got a whole afternoon. To myself. I dropped off the kids at the water and thought for a sec about going back to my cabin. I could spend the break catch
ing up on sleep.

  Well, as soon as I finished an extra dish shift. That was part of the price for my afternoon off. An extra chore during your break. Campy Dogberry’s fairness felt a little annoying to me at this exact moment.

  I dragged myself through Dam, into the back. Sophia and Wallace were already at work in the big sinks with the hoselike faucets. I grabbed a pair of dish gloves.

  “Nessa!” Sophia shouted above the spray. “Did you hear about tomorrow?” She’d drawn on a blue beard to go with her outfit.

  I flicked up my eye patch. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “The Fourth of July!” she reminded me. “It’s a party, like, a real one.”

  “Reeeeeally?” A party sounded like heaven.

  “Totally. With sparklers and beer and everything.” Sophia smiled, despite the gross bean dip she was scrubbing out of a bowl. “I heard Donald talking about it at art today.”

  “Wow,” I said. “We’re going to a real party.”

  “I know—”

  “Except that we’re not invited.”

  Wallace, loading the industrial washing machine, in a skull and bones captain hat, looked at both of us like: duh.

  “We’re not?” Sophia shut off the water.

  “No way.” Wallace shook his head. “CITs don’t get to go to those kinds of parties. Doug told me.”

  “How do you always know everything?” I wondered aloud.

  Wallace shrugged.

  “Well, that’s the worst.” I sighed, flipping a pot onto the drying rack. “But we can probably grab some sparklers and hang out together—”

  “Is this the way the entire summer is going to be?” Sophia demanded. “We bust our butts, and we don’t get any perks?

  Wallace shrugged again. “We get weekends and some time off.”

  “To do what?” she replied. “Make more friendship bracelets??”

  “It sounds like a cool party,” Wallace agreed sadly. “It’s up in Nest.”

  “The view from up there is so beautiful,” I said, remembering that year Doc had taken us on a stargazing trip, when I was a little camper. I hadn’t been there since.

  “Too bad we won’t get to see it,” Wallace said.

  “What if we go on strike?” Sophia suggested.

  “Isn’t a strike kind of hard to pull off when your parents are paying for you to work?” I said. “Plus, I don’t think Nik and Andy would care too much about CITs not getting invited to parties that are probably inappropriate. And then the counselors would hate us for bringing it up.”

  “Good points,” Sophia sighed. “Wait…What if we talked to one of the counselors about it? Ben?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “I don’t think he’d be super sympathetic…but maybe—”

  Suddenly, Bee’s head appeared in the drive-thru window. “Hey, all, great teamwork!”

  We startled and looked at one another, then at the kitchen around us. None of the faucets were even running. We looked back at her dubiously.

  “Hint, hint.” She smiled, knocked once on the doorway, and then disappeared again. The side door slammed. We quickly got back to work. I had an idea now.

  After dishes, I ran and found Margo—I knew she’d be sunning herself outside our cabin.

  “Hey, chickadee!” She smiled as I walked up. She was lying out on her beach towel, wearing a swimsuit and her big star-shaped sunglasses. No shoes. Scandalous.

  “Hey.” I sat down in the grass next to her. “Can I ask you a question?”

  She smiled into the sun. “I know everything about birds, fungi, and periods. Ask away.”

  I laughed. “It’s about the party on Friday.”

  “Ooooh.” She sat up and slid her sunglasses back onto her head, pushing back her purple curls. “What about it?”

  “Do you think that—”

  “Aww, sweetie.” Margo shook her head. “Sorry, but CITs totally can’t come.”

  “Oh, okay.” Margo’d been so nice and welcoming, and she was a lot less scary than Bee, and cooler than my brother (sorry, Ben). So I figured maybe…Now my ears were burning. I felt so juvenile for even asking.

  “Hey.” Margo snapped me out of it. I looked at her—she looked kind of pained. “I’m really sorry.” She ducked her chin emphatically. “It’s just, it’s an older person kind of thing.”

  “But what if it was just me and Sophia and Wallace?” I ventured. “We wouldn’t tell the others, and we’d be really cool there, I promise.”

  She smiled her dimply smile. “You’re the coolest, Nessie. But if we brought you, we’d for sure all get fired.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t even thought of that. Of course they’d get in trouble.

  “You’ll be able to go when you’re older!” Margo slung an arm around me and squeezed.

  “Right.”

  “And I’ll totally sneak you guys some sparklers, if you’ll be careful. You can have your own hoppin’ Fourth!”

  I grinned, the disappointment starting to fade. “That would be great! Really?”

  “You got it. I’ll make Donald get you some outside snacks from town, too.”

  After another hug, I went and found Sophia and Wallace in Luna. Neither of them had had any luck, either.

  “I ran into Hana at the bathroom, but she totally blew me off,” Sophia complained. “She just said, ‘You won’t be a CIT forever!’ and then left. Probably to go make out with Claudia.”

  I was glad I’d got Margo, at least she was super nice about it. We both looked at Wallace.

  “Oh, I chickened out,” he said quickly. “I didn’t ask anyone.”

  Neither one of us said anything, because we’d figured he wouldn’t.

  “Look,” I said. “Margo’s getting us snacks and sparklers. It’ll still be good.”

  “I guess.” Sophia sighed. “But we won’t get to be in the middle of all of that action!”

  A thought occurred to me. “But, Sophia”—I nudged her shoulder—“we’ll be around it….”

  Her eyes widened. “We’ll totally have to do some surveillance.”

  “Yes!” I agreed. “It’ll be like a scavenger hunt. For gossip.”

  “Totally!” she squealed. “And, Wallace—”

  “Yeah?” he said excitedly.

  “You keep doing whatever you’re doing,” she finished. “Because somehow you always wander into it.”

  “Got it!” He saluted, beaming. Sometimes I wondered what Wallace thought about all of this gossip stuff, but looking at his smile, I realized he probably didn’t care what we were talking about as long as he was talking to Sophia.

  Then I told them I had to go check in at the waterfront, because Rudie never reapplied his sunscreen unless I sang to him during the process.

  THURSDAY AFTERNOON, DONALD grabbed Bee and me for a run into town for party supplies. Apparently, Donald had set up a contact to sell us a few fireworks, too. Bee claimed she just needed time out of the woods. I wanted to get a present for Hana, for the party. We piled into Donald’s green Mercedes—Bee and Donald in the front, me in the back.

  I clicked in my seat belt, lost in thought. A present. I wasn’t sure what kind of present you bought for this kind of occasion—the we’ve-made-out-a-lot-but-we’ve-got-a-tent-now-so-we-both-know-this-is-going-to-go-further occasion.

  Maybe chocolate?

  A knock on my window startled me.

  “AHH!” I yelled at Ben’s face.

  “AHH! is right,” Bee snorted.

  I rolled it down.

  “What’s up, creeper?” Donald said.

  “Can I come?” Ben asked. “I need Capture the Flag stuff.”

  “Capture the Flag isn’t till next Wednesday,” Bee pointed out.

  “Just planning ahead.” Ben grinned.

  She shook her head and turned back around.

  The car went silent for a full three seconds. I looked at my knees, just in case Donald was looking back at me. I knew we’d both crack up.

  No complaining from Ben a
bout the Capture the Flag change. No “Oh, planning ahead for once in your life” from Bee. That was the most pleasant exchange between Ben and Bee that we’d seen this year.

  “Makes sense,” I said, finally. I opened the door for Ben and slid over.

  “Thank you!” Ben said brightly, and climbed in. Since Counselor Hunt, being around Ben felt like hanging out with a cardboard cutout version of him who showered more. As I scooted toward the middle, suddenly the other door opened. John.

  “Hey, guys, heard you’re making a run?”

  Before Donald could flip out, Ben said, “Sure, you need something?”

  “I just want non-camp coffee,” John explained, sliding in next to me.

  I nodded at him. I missed real coffee too.

  “Well, we can bring you some,” Donald offered lightly. “Or not. Either way, you need to get out of my car.”

  John froze. “It’s my car too, for the summer.”

  “Cool, you can have it when I’m done,” Donald shot back. He was being stubborn. Whenever there was a town run, we took whoever.

  Bee touched Donald’s hand on the gearshift. “Hey, we all need a break from camp. Let’s just go.”

  Donald took a breath, paused, then shifted into drive. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  He pulled out of the lot at a speed most of us would find dangerous, but Donald seemed completely comfortable with—in fact, he kept it up the entire way to downtown Paris, the closest actual town to Messina. When we finally found a parking spot and pulled over, I think everyone felt on the brink of puking.

  “I vote John drives back” was all Bee said as we got out.

  “It’s only fair,” Ben agreed, then after Donald’s scowl, added, “Equal share of the car!”

  “So, should we have a Maine Adventure?” Bee asked.

  Reny’s was this wild department store they had in Maine, and their tagline was “A Maine Adventure” because they stocked everything. Clothes, toys, household stuff, pet supplies, hunting gear, not to mention a wide variety of quality hiking socks. I knew I could find something for Hana there. A person could probably find their long-lost cousin there.

  “Reny’s!” Ben snapped his fingers in her direction. “That’s a good place to go! Yes!”