by Heather B. Moore, Kaylee Baldwin, Annette Lyon, Jennifer Moore, Shannon Guymon, Sarah M. Eden
“I sure did.” Michael tilted his head to one side and then the other. “Of course, they didn’t call it that. But yeah, I spent the entire summer before my junior year of high school at a camp meant to help obese kids lose weight.”
“How awful.” She knew all too well.
“It was pretty miserable. You wouldn’t believe the rules. Every calorie we ate had to be accounted for. We had to take one bite at a time, put the fork on the table, and chew a specific number of times before swallowing. I couldn’t even go the bathroom alone— worry over bulimia or sneaking food out of the cafeteria and eating it there, I guess. Privileges had to be earned, stuff like being able to bring snacks to your room. There were daily weigh-ins. Group therapy.” He shook his head. “Rough, rough summer. And most of the rules didn’t really help.”
“But something obviously did,” she said, remembering fat-camp rules all too clearly. “Something must have made a difference, because look at you— you made a change...” She gestured up and down his lean frame from shoulders to feet.
“A few things helped. The nutrition classes were big. I hadn’t grown up understanding what food was made of and how it fueled the body— you know, basic stuff you can’t be healthy without knowing. My trainer and counselor were both great. But the biggest thing...” His voice trailed off, and when he didn’t go on, Alex looked up to see him blushing. His cheeks had bright pink spots on them.
“The biggest thing...” she prompted in what she hoped was in a casual tone.
“I’ve already told you a lot more than I usually tell anyone.” He shrugged and seemed to be ready to change the subject.
But Alex didn’t want him to. She playfully nudged him. “So what’s one more deep, dark secret?”
He eyed her skeptically, raising one eyebrow and laughing. But not, she noticed, answering the question.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll spill something about me first.” She paused in her step and held out one hand. “Deal?”
Michael ran his fingers through his hair again— it looked better and better every time he did that, as if the action released some of the gel or whatever it was that held his hair in place, letting out waves and gentle curls. She’d always been a sucker for curls on guys. She made a mental note to take a selfie with him before they said goodbye at the pier just so she could see his hair again any time she wanted to.
“Maybe it’s a deal,” he said, eying her hand. “Depends on how deep and dark your secret is.”
“Okay,” Alex said lightly. But her insides tightened at the idea of verbalizing the past. If she could have emailed the information to his brain, that would have been so much easier that saying it all.
They kept walking, and with each step, she had to remind herself that telling Michael shouldn’t be scary. He’d gone through the same things she had; he wouldn’t judge. Besides, they’d say goodbye soon, likely to never see each other again. Today would be a pleasant memory during an otherwise difficult time, when a man happened to notice her, and she got the chance to flirt a little and feel feminine.
“Okay,” she said as they left the market. “Here’s my big secret: I went to a fat farm too. It was the summer before my sophomore year, and I weighed well over two hundred pounds. Those places must all be the same, because it was just like you said. It totally sucked, but I learned enough to keep myself healthy.”
The truth, if not all of nitty-gritty details.
“So,” she said, nudging him again. “Finish your story. Camp didn’t totally suck because of your nutritionist, your trainer, your counselor, and...”
Michael’s step slowed to a gradual stop on the sidewalk. He stared straight ahead, his expression suddenly intense. “This is going to sound completely nuts, but humor me, okay?”
“Okay,” Alex said, unsure what type of shift his mood had taken. “What is it?” She wanted to add, You can trust me.
“Where was your camp?”
“Tahoe,” she said. “Wellness Meadows for—”
“Teens,” he finished, and nodded as if he’d expected the name.
Alex felt her eyes widening with surprise. “Yeah.”
She suddenly felt as if someone had drawn back a curtain, but instead of revealing some grand truth, she couldn’t make out what she was looking at. A crucial detail still hovered at the edge of her peripheral vision. She narrowed her eyes and tried to picture Michael younger and chubby. Maybe with his hair a bit longer, not as held in place, curlier...
The pieces clicked into place. “Mikey?” she said with wonder. Her hand moved on its own toward his face as if she needed to feel what she was seeing to make it true, but her hand stopped a few inches short.
Before she could pull away, he reached for her hand and held it. His thumb traced the inside of her palm, sending her middle into a flurry of butterflies. His mouth curved into a smile, revealing perfect teeth instead of braces. Yes— there was the cleft in his chin. The same freckle below his right eye. She searched his face, not entirely believing, but wanting so much for the man before her to be the boy who had made that otherwise awful summer endurable.
The first person she could almost call a boyfriend. Her first kiss.
Finally, he spoke, wonder in his voice too. “Al?”
She nodded, unable to speak for a second. “Yeah.” She couldn’t manage more than that. Camp was the only place she’d ever gone by Al. She’d wanted a different identity there, a new start. No one there knew her as Alex or Dria. Back then, both names felt fat. She’d introduced herself to everyone as Al. And then she’d fallen hard for the boy with the curly hair and braces.
Michael— no, Mikey— reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’ve always been a sucker for gingers.”
They stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes as if time itself had stopped. Her mind spun, around and around. Was this really Mikey? How could they have found each other again after all this time? This kind of thing didn’t just happen. But maybe it had. And if it so, it was as wonderful as it was unbelievable.
“Why didn’t you ever email me back?” he asked.
She shook her head adamantly. “I would have— if you’d ever emailed me. When I tried emailing you first, it bounced. I still have your old email memorized: [email protected].”
Now he was the one shaking his head. “No way. I cannot believe that my bad handwriting kept us apart all these years. It wasn’t six-six; it was zero-zero. I’ve kept that address all these years, on the off chance…”
His gaze held hers now; however their messages had crossed in cyberspace, they were here now, together. His eyes slowly moved from her eyes to her lips, and then he stepped nearer and lowered his face to hers. She held her breath and closed her eyes, waiting to feel his lips again after so long. It would be the same and yet oh, so different.
But sudden loud sounds burst the bubble— a loud squeak followed by the roar of an engine. They startled, pulling away to look across the street, at the sound in the store parking lot.
Where a tow truck was driving away with Michael’s car.
Chapter Four
They took off running for the traffic light; Michael hoped it would change so they could cross the busy road. When they got there, the light was still red. He mentally cursed; they had no way of catching the tow truck now. It turned a corner and went out of sight, pulling his Mustang behind it. They stopped at the intersection, trying to catch their breath.
“They can’t just tow your car,” Alex said, clearly upset. “You didn’t break any law. And how are you supposed to know where they took it?”
“I don’t know.” Michael groaned and ran the back of his wrist across his forehead to wipe off the sweat from their sudden sprint. His brain couldn’t keep up with this day. First he’d gone to the beach to get over Rachel, only to end up finding the girl he’d first fallen for so long ago. And then his car got towed.
He didn’t know what to think or feel. Or what he’d tell Nate. That would be
an interesting conversation.
When the light finally changed, they hurried through the press of pedestrians, and when they reached the parking lot, they walked straight to the now-empty parking stall. Even though he’d seen the tow truck, Michael could scarcely believe his eyes. His car had been here a few minutes before, but now it was just— gone. He blew out some air and looked around, not knowing what he was looking for.
Alex seemed to do the same, only instead of coming up empty, she pointed at a hut that advertised key-copying services. “Maybe that guy knows something.”
Michael looked over. Sure enough, a portly man inside watched them, wearing a knowing smirk. As soon as he saw them coming in the hut’s direction, he came out of the side door and waited for them. He reached for his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Michael spoke first, skipping any pleasantries. “Did you see a tow truck take a black Ford Mustang a few minutes ago?”
The man nodded, then flashed a grin filled with yellow teeth. “Sure did.”
“Why did it get towed?” Michael asked.
Alex jumped in. “And where did they take it?”
The man slipped a business card out of his wallet and handed it to Alex. “There. That’s the address. Go there, pay the fee, and you’ll have your car back.”
She handed the card to Michael, who asked the question again. “Why did it get towed?”
The man slipped a toothpick between his teeth and chewed on it. “Did you cross the street?” They both looked toward the market, and he laughed. “That’s why. This lot is only for store customers. The sign says so.” He pointed to one mounted on a light pole.
Michael stepped closer to read the small print. Sure enough— parking was for customers of the grocery store only. But it wasn’t as if the store’s customers were hurting for places to park; the lot was half empty.
“Great way to make money,” he said. “I bet the store gets a nice kickback from each tow.”
The man shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t know. I do know that they’re always watching. Cross the street, and I guarantee that your car won’t be here when you get back.”
Alex grunted in annoyance. “It’s like they’re deliberately trapping people to make a few extra bucks.”
The man laughed. “Try several hundred bucks.”
They exchanged looks of shock. Michael regained the use of his tongue first. “So how far away is this place?” he asked, pointing at the card in Alex’s hand.
“A fifteen- or twenty-minute drive,” the man said. “Assuming traffic isn’t bad.”
Alex took a step forward, as if the guy had crossed a line. Michael put a hand on her shoulder to be safe; he didn’t want her getting hurt by anyone, least of all a slimy key-copying guy. Then again, Alex seemed to be holding her own. She always had, even back at camp.
“How can we drive there without a car?” Her face had a spark of anger to it, making her brown eyes even prettier.
The guy didn’t seem at all perturbed, which seemed to annoy her all the more. Michael had to stifle a smile; he liked seeing her this way. A common phrase from fat camp group sessions came to mind.
Anger is a secondary emotion covering the primary emotion.
Among the primary emotions were frustration, embarrassment, shame, hurt, and fear. What was Alex’s primary emotion was right now?
He surreptitiously admired her figure; she, too, had learned how to stay trim and healthy, whether from anger is a secondary emotion or some other tool. He liked to think that whatever her key to overcoming her weight had been, that maybe she’d found it at camp too— because that would mean he’d been there, that maybe he’d been part of her success, as she’d been part of his.
The key man pointed down a side street. “Taxis always wait over there. Tell them your car was towed; they know where to go.” He held out his hand as if asking for the business card.
Michael took the card from Alex before the man could take it, wanting to tear it up or let it fall to the ground— or maybe do that under-the-chin flick the cop did to Ren in Footloose. But that was anger creeping up. Secondary emotion, he reminded himself. In this case, his primary emotions were frustration and worry. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly— another tool he still used from camp. Alex noticed, and her eyes crinkled with amusement; she recognized the calming exercise. She joined him, breathing in, holding it, then breathing out.
Both of them calm once more, Michael spoke. “May I take a picture of the card first? In case we need any information from it.”
The man shrugged as if to say he didn’t care.
“Good idea.” Alex held her hand out, and he placed the card on top— a simple action, barely a touch as his fingers skimmed her palm— but enough to send a zing through him.
A powerful emotion followed. Not anger or anything else secondary, just attraction, pure and simple. Much like the summer they’d first met, but somehow better. He pulled up the camera on his phone and focused on the card. The camera clicked, and Alex handed the card back to the man, who tucked it into his bulging wallet and half waddled, half strutted, back to his hut.
Michael looked in the direction of the taxis and gestured with one arm. “Shall we?”
“Let’s,” Alex said, not seeming upset anymore, maybe because they didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Or maybe for her, the key man had been the trigger for her primary emotion— a desire to find justice for Michael. Or her trigger had been the unknown, and now that they both knew how to find his car, her emotions leveled out.
Even my thoughts are starting to sound like a shrink. Thanks, Nate.
They walked side by side, and before he realized it, Alex’s hand was in his again. He couldn’t remember consciously taking hers, but he didn’t think she’d taken his, either. Maybe they’d both reached for each other. However it had happened, it felt right, inevitable.
As if Michael’s subconscious were a prophet, he could hear Nate’s chastising voice as they walked toward the taxis along the curb.
You aren’t ready for a relationship, Nate would say. Don’t go falling for another girl when you’re still vulnerable; you’ll use her as a rebound, and you’ll both end up hurt. Take some time to be on your own, without a woman.
Intellectually, he agreed with pseudo Nate’s lecture. This entire day could still turn out to be a monumental disaster. It was already pretty bad; he’d gotten his car towed, for one thing. But he’d also taken a gorgeous woman to his favorite crêpe place when he should have been mourning his ex. Instead of facing his emotions, he’d turned not only to a different woman, but to food. His old camp counselor would flip out if he could see him now.
Or maybe Nate would be thrilled that Michael had found Al after all these years.
Oh, right, he could hear Nate saying. And puppy love from one teen summer will totally still be alive and well today. Not only that, but I’m sure it’s morphed into something grownup all on its own that can sustain a long-term, adult relationship. Of course. Excuse me while I snort. Finding love with this girl is about as likely as Krispy Kreme donuts never being a temptation again.
Stupid Nate and his stupid advice.
Michael glanced over at Alex nervously, unsure how long it had taken to reach the taxis and hoping she hadn’t minded his silence. She hadn’t attempted conversation either, so maybe she felt as comfortable with him as he did with her. They fit together like puzzle pieces.
He and Rachel had been more like puzzle pieces you want to fit, ones that even look like they should fit, so you try to cram them together, but it’s all wrong. But this felt right.
That word again: right. As odd as it seemed— and as unlikely as it was— this did feel right. And even more unbelievably, it felt possible.
That thought made something big twist in his middle, and not unpleasantly. He opened the back door of the first taxi. Alex smiled up at him, then climbed inside. He followed and found her not near the window, but in the center of the bench so he had n
o choice but to sit close to her. He told the driver about the tow. Sure enough, he knew exactly where to go.
As they pulled away from the curb, Alex’s hand slipped into his. And even though he knew he was about to fork out enough money to cover a car payment just to get his car back, for the moment, he didn’t mind. Somehow, it even felt worth it. He glanced at their hands, rested his head against hers, and smiled.
Yep. This feels right.
Chapter Five
Alex found herself talking about camp during the entire drive to the impound lot, which took a little over fifteen minutes, just as the key guy had predicted. Suddenly she felt like camp had ended last week. As if they’d never been apart.
Except that they were both adults now. She was a size six— or four, depending on the cut. He’d undergone a similar transformation. He still had the same curly hair, though he wore it shorter and somewhat tamed. He had the same quirk in his smile. The same laugh.
“Remember the counselors’ skit where Dot pulled that practical joke?” Alex asked.
“You mean when Dot made Steven laugh so hard that he spit water all over the campers? Or the time she replaced Tate’s punch with that baby gum medicine?” Michael laughed.
“I’d forgotten about the water,” Alex said, laughing too. “I think Jenny had Coke shooting out of her nose. I meant the numbing medicine. Man, the look on Tate’s face after drinking it...”
“And how he talked afterward with his tongue half numb—”
Alex caught her breath between chuckles. “I almost peed my pants right there in the amphitheater.” Her eyes widened with embarrassment at having lost her filter. “I mean. Forget I said that. I—”
“I almost did too.” Michael shrugged as if she hadn’t mentioned something awkward. “It’s me— Mikey— remember?” He playfully put an arm around her shoulders, as he’d done so often at camp. Back then, the gesture had begun as a buddy thing, but it had quickly become something more, and it had remained something more for the rest of the two months they spent at camp.