Nothing Happened

by Molly Booth

  “So, do you actually think this is going to work?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is John going to hook up with Claudia now?”

  I held my breath, trying to remember everything. I wished I had my phone to write this down. Did one of the kids leave their dream journals?

  “Ehh, I doubt it. Like, highly doubt it. But maybe…” Connie didn’t sound pleased at the idea. “But maybe if he tries to, and she blows him off, he’ll finally get over her.”

  “Oh, and you’re counting on that?”

  More shuffling, another louder yelp.

  “OUCH! I’m going to bed before you do permanent damage.”

  “It’s not my fault. Quit saying gross stuff.”

  Jeez, I’m glad I’m not their CIT. When their footsteps and grumbles sounded safely far away, I hopped onto the grass out front to pace. Think, think, Vanessa! So John likes…Claudia. Connie likes…John. But the bigger point: Connie, John, and Bobby had set up Claudia?

  With Margo as a pawn? Maybe?

  Somebody had to tell her.

  I thought about sneaking to Sophia’s cabin, but then I realized that waking up to the shock of all of this just might kill her.

  I WASN’T ALWAYS sure that my mood controlled the weather, but that weekend was proof: Saturday morning rain pelted down. I spent the first few hours in my bed, in my cabin, just listening to the sound. Wallace and Doug both got up for brunch. Wallace asked if I was coming. I mumbled something about catching up on sleep. I hoped my face didn’t look obviously puffy from crying. They left.

  Fuck everything. Fuck it all to the moon.

  My stomach started protesting the whole not-ever-moving-again thing I had going. I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag and shoved into a slicker.

  On the weekends, when the kids went home, we usually hung out in Dam too long during meals, messing around, and then chilled upstairs in Luna. Watching movies, playing card or board games. If we had any leftover energy, sometimes we’d do ropes course teams, or go bowling in town.

  Not this Saturday. The trails felt like the roads of a ghost town. No campers, no counselors, not even any squirrels or chipmunks. A couple snails. That helped, a little.

  I opened the door to Dam quietly, just in case. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. But there was nobody in there, either, except Shane and a few CITs, finishing up pots and pans from brunch.

  I grabbed blueberry pancakes and bacon, and sat right in the middle of the room, because why the fuck not? It was usually Donald’s seat, but where the fuck was Donald?

  My head cleared some after eating. Maple syrup can do that. I took out my phone and texted Donald:

  Hey, where are you guys? In Dam.

  …(typing)

  …(typing)

  Seriously? I thought. It’s a simple question.

  We’re off campus.

  Where?

  I wanted to add And what the fuck are you thinking? But also: Why wasn’t I invited?

  I’m not gonna say, no offense.

  I stared at his response. Why even bother texting back if you weren’t gonna say. Just don’t say anything back at all.

  Look, I need to talk to both of you. What happened last night? This is messed up.

  Not interested, sorry.

  Another nothing response. They were freezing me out. I felt like throwing my phone in the harbor. I shut it off and shoved it in my pocket. Returned to my pancakes.

  I was starting to get a creeping feeling that Bee was right about Donald and Claudia. And that really shouldn’t have been surprising. She was always right.

  AS SOON AS I opened my eyes, alarms went off in my brain: You need to talk to Ben!! And Margo??

  Right. Something totally messed up had gone down last night, and I might’ve been the only one who knew.

  I flumped out of bed—still no Margo; maybe she was in Little Bat? Or maybe she’d been here and had actually gotten out of bed before noon.

  I changed clothes, slid into rubber boots and my slicker, and charged through the rain to Dam. Luckily, Ben was in the corner, eating alone. I shook off and ran over to him.

  “Ben—”

  “You might want to get pancakes before they go cold.”

  He was correct; I did want that. I grabbed a plate and a mug of tea and squished in my boots back over to the table.

  “Ben.”

  “Nessa.”

  He looked tired. Nothing new, Ben was tired a lot. But something else. The bags under his eyes were shiny and red. He’d been crying.

  Mooooom! I wanted to yell behind me. Ben’s crying! Come help!

  Instead, I pushed the maple syrup toward him. He nodded at me and doused his pancakes again. The rain tapped at the windows. I grabbed an end of my hair and chewed it a little. How to bring this up?

  “You excited about the girls coming on Monday?” he said.

  “Ben, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said, at the same time.

  He looked up startled. “Okay, Ness, what is it?”

  “I overheard this thing, and I just want to know if—”

  The door to Dam slammed open, surprising us both. We turned. There stood Sophia, in an orange poncho and rain boots to match.

  “Nessa!” she yelled, and squelched over. She slammed down her hands at our table. Ben protectively scooped the small glass syrup pitcher away from her.

  “Nessa, you’ll never. be. lieve this,” Sophia said, with huge breaths in between the words. She didn’t even wait for me to prompt her, she kept going.

  “Last night, at the sparkler party…” Did she even see my brother sitting there? Probably not. “Claudia dumped Hana.”

  “What?” I gasped. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

  “I know,” she whispered. She didn’t know the half of it. The third of it! “I can’t believe we missed it! But yeah, turns out Hana was cheating on Claudia with some townie guy. Can you believe that? What a total slu—”

  “Wait,” Ben said quietly, startling us both. “Where did you hear this?”

  Sophia glanced at me, I nodded. “Connie?” she said. “Well, I overheard her talking to Rachel about it this morning in the bathroom.”

  Ben nodded slowly. He set down his fork. I could tell a grown-up speech was coming.

  “Ness, you’re better than this,” he said. Yup. “This isn’t funny, and I don’t expect either of you to tell anyone about it. And I don’t want to hear gossip anymore.” He looked at Sophia. “And I definitely don’t want to hear that word you were about to use.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Sorry, Ben,” I added.

  Ben shoved away from the table, grabbed his plate and put it away, then disappeared out the side door without another word. Sophia watched all of this silently, but the minute he was definitely gone, she made a face.

  “Your brother’s kind of a pain.”

  I smiled at her but felt sick inside, like rotten eggs were scrambling in my stomach. My brother was disappointed in me, and I had this enormous secret. I’d have to go to Margo.

  Suddenly, I really, really missed being a camper.

  SLEEPING WELL SEEMED like a thing of the past, so hauling myself out of bed for Monday morning when my body screamed at me it needed more sleep just felt totally normal.

  Nothing else felt normal.

  I poured cereal, milk, coffee like nothing was wrong. I sat down at a table with Margo, who rubbed my back, and continued listening to Ellie overanalyze her feelings for Doug. She knew I didn’t want to talk, and I felt super grateful for that.

  This weekend was the worst. The worst I could remember for a very, very long time. The cereal wouldn’t fit down my throat. Its sharp edges caught and scraped. I let it get soggier.

  Pull it together, pull it together, camp is in one hour. There’s days when you’re gonna have to teach through some bad shit, Bee, I reminded myself. When the president gives another craptastic address, or you actually go through a real brea
kup, or your dog might die. After you get a dog. And you’re still gonna have to teach.

  I forced myself to surface, finish my cereal, toss my dishes in the bins, and made my way out for setup. As I was leaving, though, little whispers reached out from tables by the door—

  “Can you believe that? She brought some townie onto camp grounds.”

  “Well, if you’re the director’s daughter, I guess you can get away with anything.”

  “I just feel bad for Claudia. She was crying so hard.”

  “I haven’t even seen any of them all weekend.”

  I blinked. Were they talking about…? I turned to look, and both Rachel and Doug immediately shut up. Technically, I’d known there had been other witnesses on Friday, but I’d fled with Hana immediately. I hadn’t even thought—I turned and looked out at the dining hall, usually a hubbub of singing and laughter.

  Thirty faces looked back, blushing, curious. The face you made when you’d been talking about someone.

  I turned and slammed the door behind me. Fuck. Fuck.

  Even if my mom convinced Hana to get out of bed, she’d now have to deal with this? I thought about banging the gong in Dam and announcing that anyone who talked about my sister could fill out their resignation paperwork immediately, and I’d be happy to help them.

  But I’d promised my parents I wouldn’t do anything rash about this. I’d promised Hana.

  Check-in went fine. How could I care? But I smiled and fist-bumped kids, inquired about their new siblings, their new schools. My heart ached through all of it. And then, two little faces stared up at me, and the sun came out.

  “Ava, Layla!” I cried, and bent down to hug them both. They were arguably our cutest campers: almost identical—pale; freckly; big brown eyes, like Ben’s and Nessa’s; dark, shoulder-length hair; and adorable, pointy chins. The only way most people could tell them apart was that Layla had thick red glasses. By the time we’d finished our hug, Ben had appeared, and they both lit up. I tried not to light up too.

  “BEN!” Ava threw herself into his gut. “I thought you were DEAD!”

  “Well, she tried to convince Mom you were,” Layla said, arms crossed, waiting her turn. “So she could have your Play Station.”

  Ben scooped up Ava, twirled her around, switched to Layla, and did it again.

  “Twice for Layla, since she didn’t try to kill me off,” he explained to them. Ava stuck out her tongue, grinning. “I missed you munchkins,” he said. And he had. You could tell. His whole being glowed now that they were here. For a moment, I forgot how pissed I was at him.

  “Missed you too, Bunny!” Ava cackled.

  “He doesn’t like that.” Layla kicked her.

  “Hey, babies!” Nessa called out from the lice check. They squealed and sprinted over to her.

  Ben’s mom, Colleen, appeared, kissed my cheek, and fussed about the weight Ben had lost in the last two weeks. He smiled and took it all good-naturedly, gently asking her how everything was at home, at work. I took a step back so they’d have some privacy.

  I glanced at Nessa wrestling Ava into the folding chair while Layla chatted in her ear. Colleen, laughing easily at a joke Ben made. The Rosenthals. Their happy family, free. Tears welled in my eyes.

  “I’m gonna go say hi to Nessie,” Colleen said with a wave. I waved back, faintly. As she left, there stood Ben across from me. I couldn’t hide. Our eyes met.

  He registered the tears and quickly closed the distance between us. “Can we talk, later?”

  I said nothing back. I had so many feelings, but nothing came before Hana.

  “I know, okay?” he whispered. “I promise, I’m on your side.”

  His eyes flickered back and forth, searching mine. My side. That sounded like an improvement on last night.

  “Okay.” I gulped. “Later.”

  He nodded, then went and joined his sisters.

  “Bee!” yelled a car pulling in. Three kids tumbled out, and I smiled brightly and showed them where to put their stuff.

  MONDAY MORNING, WE offered mini activities while the new session’s campers settled in. Claudia ran the knots elective again, and I volunteered to help. I found them at the campfire pit, sitting on logs. From the top of the trail, I could see Claudia explaining the basics with her low, calm voice.

  But when I walked up and got close, her voice sounded raspy and on edge. She glanced up at me—her face paste pale, purple bags under her eyes like they’d been drawn on with a Magic Marker.

  “This is John,” she said to the campers. They nodded or said hi quietly. Claudia’s mini sessions were always like this: chill as fuck. The kids knew, sensed not to mess with her.

  I helped a couple kids through the basics of a fish tail till the session was over. They returned the ropes and then hightailed it to their next activity. The farther from the campfire they got, the louder their voices boomed. Spell broken.

  I grabbed the ropes and threw them in the box, then finally looked at Claudia again. She was slumped on a log, staring at her phone.

  “Hey, you okay?” I sat down next to her.

  Her bronze eyes looked up at me, tears welling on her lower lids. Crap.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  Shit.

  “Uhh…no.”

  “You get a prize.” She looked away again.

  I’d meant, I thought—I thought I could maybe bring something up here. Movies this weekend. But her face, her eyes, her shoulders hunched, I didn’t…

  She sighed. “Sorry, but this was the worst weekend ever. Like, ever.”

  I froze.

  She shifted, looking up at the trees above us. “I just feel like, what’s the point of me being here anymore?”

  “Seriously?” I laughed. “Hana’s so…young. She was probably just messing around with a girl for fun. You don’t need to throw away your summer ’cause of her.”

  She didn’t reply, just stared up at the trees. I checked my watch: we both needed to go.

  “I think it’s time for—”

  “John,” Claudia said quietly. “Fuck. Off.”

  Everything stopped. The waves, the birds, the bugs, the air. I stared into the ashes of the fire pit. She stood up, grabbed the box of ropes from my hands, and walked away. I couldn’t have moved if I tried.

  How Claudia acted felt so familiar. But it felt familiar because I’d felt like that, acted like that, a hundred times in the last five years, ever since my “family” went public. But this time, it was me. It was my fault.

  I’d kind of thought this before, but here it was, knotted in my face: I was an asshole. As big an asshole as my father.

  “IF YOU GO to work today, we’ll talk about whether you have to work tomorrow.” My parents broke. “We’ll talk” was code for “We’ll cave.”

  “Fine, I’ll go.” I forced myself out of bed, brushed past them into the hallway to use the bathroom. I turned on the shower, but listened to them whisper about calling Louisa, my therapist, at the door. When I got like this, my family seemed so pathetic. So small in comparison to the wad of dark crap settling into my chest.

  I changed into my swimsuit, pulled myself together for the waterfront. Smile, welcome, buddy board, don’t let anyone drown. Swim tests, tests, tests. For the first time in a long time, the water felt frigid.

  “Hana.” Judy looked at me, eyebrows pinching in worry. “Your lips are turning blue. Sit the next one out and go warm up.”

  I nodded in reply, grabbed my big towel, and shivered into Dam for a snack and coffee. No, coffee made everything worse. But maybe I could talk to Shane into making me cocoa?

  Dam bustled with counselors and CITs running in and out, grabbing food or forms from the paperwork corner. No sign of Donald or of…her.

  I went to the counter to plead my blue-lipped case. Dave and Jen came out of the bathroom, walked by me, I guess not noticing I was there.

  “Yeah, Claudia’s so messed up about it.”

  “What a bitch.”

/>   “I don’t know, man. I was hanging out with this girl last year, and then there was another girl I kind of liked, and so I broke up with the first one before I did anything with the second one….It’s the right thing to do….”

  Their whispers faded the closer they got to the whirring drink machine.

  “Hey, Hana.” Shane appeared behind the counter. Sweet, professional, older. Didn’t know I was a bitch/slut or anything. What a relief. “Can I get you something warm?” he asked.

  “Can I just have a packet of instant?”

  He smiled and handed me a whole box of cocoa. “Sure thing.”

  “And can you tell my mom I feel sick and that I needed to go lie down?”

  “Sure, but does Judy—”

  “Judy knows. Thanks.”

  “Hana! Are you—”

  The side door’s slam cut him off. I clutched my box of cocoa and walked barefoot through the needles and ferns back to our house.

  FIRST DAY AGAIN, Sproutball. Outline the rules, hand out a million rainbow squishy balls. And, screaming in three…two…one…go!

  Claudia and I both went down fairly quickly, because half the fun of Sproutball was being tagged as a seed and getting to throw balls at people (both maniacally and helpfully). Claudia and I made a big pile in the middle of the field and crouched down.

  “Hey. We need to talk after this,” I whispered, tossing a few to Maddie. Session 2, she was vicious.

  “No thanks.” She lobbed one across the field that hit Ilse in the butt.

  The freezing out continued all morning. When we finished our last session, Claudia disappeared with the final group, leaving me to put away the giant bag of sproutballs and cones by myself. Cool.

  I’d now given both Donald and Claudia opportunities to explain their shitty-ass behavior. But neither one of them was interested. Which meant…I had no way forward to fix this.

  “ARGH!” I said out loud on the field, to no one in particular. “Just ARGH!” And then: “I told you so!”