“You did?” I say, making my eyes light up. “You weren’t scared?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not, there’s nothing to be afraid of at camp! It was so much fun! I want to come back next year and do it again!”
“Well I’m glad to hear that! Maybe I can try it too.”
“Will you come back next year and go on it with me?” she asks.
I smile at her and pinch her cheek softly. “I will try my best to come back, just so I can go on the big swing.”
I stand up from my kneeling position and she wraps her arms around my legs, hugging me tightly, or at least trying to. Her lifejacket makes it a little hard to get her small arms to hug.
“Found someone!” Sophia cheers, pulling Kenny by his hand with her.
“Heard you need a fourth person,” Kenny says smiling. “Now if only we had a paddle boat.”
“Mr. Kenny,” Daisy says pointing her finger to the side of the lake. “There’s one right there!”
“Well, look at that!” I say. “Our chariot awaits.”
The four of us walk over to the paddle boat and Kenny pushes it back into the water, through the cattails and other plants.
“I’ll just boat it over to the dock, you guys can get on over there,” he says. “It’ll be easier, I don’t want you ladies getting dirty.”
We do as Kenny says, both of the girls holding my hands as we go to the dock.
“Mr. Kenny is such a gentle-man,” Daisy says dreamily.
“It’s ‘gentleman’,” Sophia corrects. “I had that word in a spelling bee. One word.”
“Did you get it right?” Daisy asks.
Sophia shakes her head. “No, I spelled ‘gentlemen’ not ‘man’.”
“Ladies,” Sampson says as he drifts up to the dock. I sit down and steady the paddle boat with my feet and help the girls on one at a time to the back of the boat. Once they’re situated, I climb on board at one of the pedal seats.
“Everyone ready?” Kenny asks.
“Yeah!” the three of us cheer.
I push us away from the dock and Kenny and I start pedaling the boat, trying our best to avoid fishing lines. The girls chatter in the back, pointing at the tadpoles and dragonflies at the surface of the water.
“Miss. Penelope,” Sophia says. “What are those two bugs doing?”
I turn to look at where she’s pointing. Two dragonflies are connected and sitting on the side of our boat. I can’t actually tell them what they’re doing. I won’t be the one to tell them about the birds and the bees or in this case, the dragonflies.
“Umm,” I say, not knowing what lie I can make up.
Kenny turns and sees what the girls are watching and laughs. “Penelope, what are those dragonflies doing? I’ve never seen something like that before.”
He’s screwing with me. He has this huge smug smile on his face, and he’s screwing with me.
“I think they’re just chilling out,” I say. “They’re trying to be friends.”
“Friends?” Kenny asks. “You sure about that?”
“Pretty sure,” I say.
Daisy swats at them to go away. “Get out of here, go be friends somewhere else. Our boat is full.”
Kenny and I both burst into a fit of laughter, so bad that my stomach aches from laughing so hard. Daisy and Sophia probably think we’re out of our minds. Eventually, Kenny and I regain control and take two more trips around the lake. We listen as Daisy and Sophia chat about their friends back home and what they’re doing when camp is over.
“Alright girls,” I say. “You guys ready to go in? We need to get back to land.”
“Aww, do we have to?” they plead.
“Afraid so,” Kenny says. “We have about an hour until pool time.”
“Fine,” Daisy says. “Maybe we can hang out at pool time too. Kenny, will you hang out with us at pool time?”
“If you’re inviting me, I can,” Kenny says.
We come to a stop at the dock and Kenny gets out to tie us off. He then helps the girls out, followed by me. I tell the little ones to go take their lifejackets to the shed and gather up the rest of their cabin mates.
“Hey,” Kenny says as I’m about to go put my lifejacket up and retrieve my backpack. “You busy this weekend? I have Friday off and scored some tickets to a concert, thought we could go.”
“Oh man,” I say. “I totally would but I have my orientation this weekend. I’ll be gone Friday until Sunday.”
“That sucks, maybe next time then?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say. “Have fun though, let me know how it goes.”
“Totally,” he says, but I can tell he’s a bit let down.
“Maybe someone else here can get the weekend off and go with you,” I suggest.
If it wasn’t for my weekend visit to Maryville, I would take Kenny up on the concert immediately. I have nothing left to lose.
“Welcome Class of 2021 to Maryville college!” reads the banner leading to the quad. I approach the check-in table and give them my first and last name. The bored orientation leader gives me a welcome packet along with an oversized Go Scots! shirt that I’ll only be able to wear when I’m sleeping. They were out of smalls and only had large and XXL left.
I head to the performing arts center for the official welcoming committee. The president of the school gives a fifteen-minute speech on what the school means to him and how he hopes we enjoy our time here. The guy sitting at the end of my row is already snoring, and I wonder how long he’ll last in school, or why he’s even here in the first place.
Various organizations around campus join the president on stage discussing Greek life, spiritual organizations, clubs, and so on. Snoring Guy only wakes up when he hears someone in the art club mention that they have pizza every Friday at their meetings.
“Alright,” says the head of admissions after a few hours of orientation. “On the corner of your name tag you’ll see a small sticker. This will tell you which group you need to follow for your personalized campus tour. Green follow me, blue will follow our English department representative, orange will follow mathematics…”
The woman goes on, stating all the colors and majors, and all the incoming students start getting up to follow their designated person. I join in with the psychology group of twenty other future Scots and try my best not to look like a horrified freshman. I manage to put on a decent smile as my right leg bounces uncontrollably, my nervous twitch.
Our leader starts counting us and looks down at her clipboard to check something. “Alright, looks like we the right amount of people. I will call you by last name just to make sure we’re all in the right place before we begin.”
All but one person was in the right place, so we swap them out for our missing student who went to the sociology and anthropology group. We all shuffle out of the auditorium and quietly walk to our first stop on the tour, the student center known as Bartlett Hall that houses a cafe, the bookstore, post office, and more. We quickly finish up there and move onto the library in Thaw Hall, and I stare around in awe at the amount of books. It’s not the library I imagined, the stereotypical college movie library with dark and dingy with floor to ceiling shelves, but it does look like a good research environment.
By the time we finish up at the main cafeteria, I’m turned completely backwards and wish I could go on two or three more tours. If I’m being honest, I forgot where I was thirty minutes into the tour.
“Alright,” our tour guide says as we stand in front of a long, four story building. “This is Carnegie Hall, one of the student housing buildings you’ll have the option in staying in at one point or another during your schooling. Tonight, you’ll be staying here, pair up with someone in the group and I’ll hand out keys once you have a buddy.
“And before you think about it,” she goes on. “Same sex only, we’re not matchmakers.”
Everyone in my group quickly pairs up to room together for the weekend, and I’m the odd one out. Once everyone else gets
their keys and heads to their rooms, I approach our tour guide.
“Looks like I’m last,” I say. “Should I just wait for an assignment?”
She shakes her head and hands me the last key. “Lucky you, you get the room to yourself. I didn’t want to say there was one single room because people usually fight over it. You fine with your own room?”
I nod. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“Alrighty, I’ll see you at tomorrow morning’s meeting. Enjoy your night.”
“Wait,” I ask as she begins to walk away, already starting a text on her phone. “That’s it, we have to stay in our rooms until tomorrow morning?”
I glance down at my watch and it’s only 3 o’clock, we’d just be headed to the pool after ‘feet off the floor’ time if I were at camp.
She laughs. “No, you’re free to explore campus, go off campus, hang out in the residence halls. Whatever, that’s part of the experience. There is a summer RA on duty. If you need anything, he’ll be at the front desk.”
“Okay,” I say, staring at my key. “Thanks.”
All this freedom is blowing my mind. Is it a smart idea to just set us free for the evening? I guess they have the sink or swim mindset.
I pick up my overnight bag at the front desk and head to the third floor, room 310. Laughter comes from one of the other rooms, and I note that the walls are paper thin. I drop my bag and pull my sleeping bag out to put on the bed. It’s not much different from the bunks back at camp. There’s a few more inches on the mattress and they look a little less worn, but that’s about it. I sit up on the bed and stare at the bare, off-white walls and fluorescent lighting.
With a bookshelf full of books and some of my stuff from home, this place might become habitable.
Wait, technically I am a student. School starts in four weeks. I registered for my first semester classes this morning.
I’m officially a college student.
I sit on my bunk, staring out the window for who knows how long before I startle at a knock on my door. When I open it, there’s four girls standing, dressed very differently from earlier. Their tops are cut lower and their skirts are shorter.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“We wanted to invite you out,” says one of the girls. “We’re heading to an Irish Pub off campus.”
“I don’t think I’m dressed for a bar…” I say, feeling stupid for not bringing something nicer. All I had was camp shirts and gym shorts, and the only pair of jeans that I’m currently wearing.
“Oh shush,” says another girl. “Just come with us, the more the merrier.”
“Okay,” I say as I turn to grab my backpack and my room key. “I’m ready.”
“Do you need that big backpack? Just grab your purse,” suggests the first girl.
“I actually haven’t used a purse all summer,” I say, shutting the door behind me and locking it. “I’ve been working at a summer camp nearby, so my bag has held my life in it all summer.”
We all start walking down the hall and one of the other girls gets excited over that fact, grabbing me by my forearm, her eyes bugging out. I gently pull my arm out of her grasp.
“That’s so cool, minimalism is so in right now,” she says. “I envy you, I have no clue how I’ll be able to fit all my clothes and shoes into one of those tiny closets. I wonder how much a storage facility costs.”
We head out to the parking lot and load into one of the girls’ cars. I cram myself into the middle since I’m the shortest of the bunch. The girls all discuss more about how cool the minimalist movement is and how awesome tiny houses are, but they could never get rid of their clothes. They all agree that they have dresses in their closets that they haven’t worn since middle school dances.
“What about you?” asks the girl driving. “How do you think you’ll manage getting your stuff into your dorm?”
“I’m not sure,” I say staring at my hands. “I planned on only bringing necessities, but I might have to bring everything. My parents…”
“Go ahead,” says one of the girls sitting next to me. “We’re great talkers but even better listeners.”
“My parents are possibly going through a divorce,” I blurt out. “I don’t know if they’ll sell their house or what. My whole life is up in the air right now.”
“That’s so shitty,” says the girl driving. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Maybe we can get a townie to buy you a beer,” suggests the girl in the passenger seat. “Guys love girls with emotional issues… or so I hear…”
“Carla,” scolds the driver. “That’s a bit rude.”
“Sorry,” Carla says, turning around to look at me with a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t have a filter.”
I smile. “You’re fine, just means you’re more likely to tell me the cold hard truth. I think more people need that.”
We pull to a stop and all climb out of the car. I follow the girls in and we get a table next to the bar. I, personally, would have chosen a table in the corner, but I can tell these girls like attention. We get some water and a giant plate of nachos, the nachos compliments of a guy sitting at the bar wearing a camo hat and worn out jeans. I’m not underdressed at all.
Carla blows a kiss to the guy and we all load up our individual plates with some nachos.
“How do you do that?” I ask Carla.
“Do what?” she asks, smiling.
“I don’t know, get a guy's attention so easily?” I suggest. “Or feel comfortable enough to flirt?”
“I’m not here to impress anyone,” she says. “They’re here to impress me. Once you get that drilled into your head, it becomes easy. They’re the ones who have something to lose.”
Me, Carla, and the driver, Hayley, exchange stories. I thought for sure these girls would be total ditzes or bimbos, but they’re actually smart. Carla spent most of her summer backpacking through Europe. She’s fresh off the plane from Germany. I found out she’s already fluent in German and half fluent in French. She plans on taking some Japanese after her freshmen year.
Hayley wants to become a dietician one day and comes from a family of doctors and nurses. Yet here I am, trying to still decide what I want to do with my life. I can’t work at camp forever - I’ve barely survived this summer.
“Penelope?” says a voice behind me.
“Oh, girl. Who is that?” Carla asks. I can practically see drool running down her chin.
I turn around and see him and quickly turn back around. “Shit, that’s Sampson.”
“Well, Sampson is coming over this way,” Hayley says. “Want me to tell him to beat it?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. He’s just a co-worker.”
Sampson greets our table and I blush as all the girls say hello in unison like some sort of planned sorority greeting. They all have the same silly grin as Carla’s. All except Hayley, who seems to be gaging my reaction. She seems like someone I need to keep as a friend, no doubt. She just seems sincere, possibly because I’ve been around Viv all summer, but I just feel like Hayley and I have clicked as friends already.
“Sampson,” I start. “What are you doing here?”
“I was dropping off a paper for my summer class,” he says. “I come here all the time for a drink after class.”
“Oh, well, you want to pull a seat up?” I ask. “We’re just eating appetizers. We didn’t want to be stuck in the dorm all night.”
“No, I was actually just picking up an order to go, I have a meeting with my study group. We have a final next week.”
“Oh, okay.” I say.
“You want to meet me in about two hours?” he asks. “I can show you around campus.”
“No thanks, we already went on our tour,” I reply. Someone kicks me under the table and when I glare at them, they mouth the word ‘Go’. “On second thought, yeah. I’d love to get another tour. Honestly, I’ve already forgotten where half the buildings are.”
“Still remember where the library is?”
he asks and I nod. “Meet me there, say around eight? That work for you?”
“Yeah, yes.” I answer.
“I’ll see you there,” he says. “Ladies, enjoy your food.”
After he gets his to go and exits the pub, all the girls eyes’ are on me.
“Hubba-hubba, talk about campus hottie,” Carla says and the other girls giggle. “You never told us you already had a boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say. “It’s complicated and messy. He probably only wants to talk about the fact that I ruined his relationship.”
“You’re a homewrecker?” Carla says, slapping her hand on the table. “I didn’t see that one coming, you look so shy and innocent! I guess they do say it’s always the quiet ones.”
“She can’t be a homewrecker, she looks too innocent,” Hayley says to Carla before turning back to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
And to my surprise, I do want to talk about it. I tell them the whole story. Viv cheating on him with Casanova and me being afraid to tell him and all the in between details just come spilling out. I don’t care if this is just the kind of gossip these girls feed on, and I don’t care if I sound like I’m whining. I haven’t been able to tell anyone the whole story, not Kelsey, not my mom, not Janine who I haven’t heard from since the party incident. The girls listen, all of them, and they offer mixed reactions.
One tells me that I should stand him up for being a jerk last week when the truth came out. Another tells me that I should give him a chance. Carla thinks that I should hook up with someone else in the bar and see how that makes him feel, but there’s no way I’m going down her route.
“What do you think?” I ask Hayley who hasn’t said a word.
“I’m honestly not sure,” she says, taking a sip of her water. “I mean, he seemed nice enough. You said it’s been a few days since you last spoke, maybe he’s cooled off. And without his ex around, maybe you can talk and finally have a normal conversation.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I just want things to be normal between us, but I don’t think they ever were.”
The Last July: A New Adult Romance Page 16