Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe

by Sarah Mlynowski

  Maybe it’s not that big of a deal. Botts doesn’t know Eli. He doesn’t know Kat. He’s our friend! Maybe he’s happy for us! Wouldn’t he want his two friends to be together?

  We’re quiet for two minutes until Gavin runs his hands through my hair and I feel my body responding. So Botts saw. What’s the worst thing that could happen? He announces it on Instagram? He’s not going to do that. And even if he did . . . does it really matter? Am I really going to pretend none of this happened with Eli? How would I go back to normal? And maybe I want to be with Gavin. For real.

  “You okay?” Gavin asks.

  I nod and my lips find his.

  “I borrowed one of Janelle’s condoms,” I whisper. “Just in case.” Truthfully, I have three.

  “Borrowed?”

  I elbow him.

  He tries again. “You did? Really?”

  “Yeah. Do you want to?” I ask.

  “Very much yes.”

  He kisses me harder.

  Botts is acting overly enthusiastic the next day, but not looking me in the eye. Does he think I’m a horrible person?

  “Good morning, Sam! How did you sleep last night?” he booms from the kitchen. “We’re making French toast and turkey bacon. Are you starving?”

  My cheeks burn. What’s he trying to say?

  It’s not like we’re rubbing it in his face. Gavin fell asleep in my bed, but left around six in the morning to go back to his room. By the time I got up, he was already in the kitchen, making coffee. Priya’s door is still shut. She must still be asleep. I’m assuming with Smokin’ Hot Benji.

  Botts can’t possibly know we had actual sex. We were very quiet. I think? As quiet as you can be during sex, I guess.

  But it wasn’t just sex. It was good sex. And so different than with Eli. Not better, not worse, just different. With Eli, it’s sweet and gentle. With Gavin, it’s sexy and new.

  “I slept very well, Botts, thanks for asking.”

  “This is like the nicest house ever,” Lis says. “Can we just stay here the rest of the summer?”

  I wonder what happened with the two of them last night. She didn’t come knocking, so hopefully all went well.

  “What?” Botts asks. “And miss the Superbowl? And my kids go to the water park. The last two weeks of camp are the best.”

  There are only two weeks left? I shake my head. Less than two weeks. Eleven days. The summer went fast.

  If there are only eleven days left, then Eli is coming back in five days. On Sunday.

  “But we can all come back for our last day off,” Botts says. “You guys in? Sunday night?”

  “Maybe,” says Lis. “You in, Sam?”

  “I . . .” I hesitate. The plan is that Eli is flying back to NYC on Sunday, which means that he can come up to see me for my last day off. Next Monday is the last possible day to take a day off and we coordinated it. He’ll see me and then he’ll drive back to Connecticut to see his parents for two weeks. I’ll come visit him for a week, and then I’ll spend just a few days with my parents before meeting him back in New York.

  “Actually, next week I’m taking Monday/Tuesday. I already coordinated it with Danish.”

  “What are you doing?” Lis asks innocently.

  Botts freezes. Gavin drinks his coffee.

  “I’m . . . well, Eli is coming up to see me.”

  Gavin chokes.

  “Oh, yay!” Lis says. “He’s coming home finally! That’s great. I can’t wait to meet him. Is he coming up to camp?”

  There is no edge to her voice, and I can tell Botts didn’t say anything to her. I didn’t think he would, but good to know for sure.

  Botts smirks. “Eli, huh? How is Eli? Is he enjoying his trip around the world?” He is not going to make this easy, I can tell.

  “I believe he is,” I say sharply.

  I look over at Gavin, who is looking at me. He fakes an extra-large smile.

  Botts turns to Gavin. “And when is Kat coming back?”

  “Not until the end of August.”

  “I bet she’s having a great time too,” he says. “But not as great as you guys are.”

  “Probably not,” I say.

  “Omigod,” Lis says, pulling me into a hallway after breakfast. “What is going on?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, heart pounding.

  “Why did he invite me here if he wasn’t going to make a move?”

  “Oh, Botts.”

  “Yes, Botts,” she says. “Nothing happened. We were sitting alone in the hot tub, and then he was like, oh, I have to go to sleep, I’m super tired. And he left! Who does that when they’re in the hot tub with a girl they’ve already kissed? But then this morning he invited me to come back. When he said come back, he meant me too, didn’t he? What do you think the deal is?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” I say.

  “Did I sound dumb last night or something? I didn’t drink or smoke or anything. I wanted to be completely sober. But Botts is so smart. I feel like he probably thinks I’m too dumb for him. Or too silly. Do you think I’m silly?”

  “No, not at all,” I say.

  “Can you find out if he likes me or what?”

  “I . . .” I really don’t want to have a personal conversation about anything with Botts right now. And this is so eighth grade. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you!” Lis says. “You’re the best.”

  “You guys are not going to believe what happened,” Talia says the second we get back to the bunk. Actually, the second we get back to the bunk we are swarmed by children who want the Munchkins we’ve brought back, but the second after that, Talia pulls us into the counselors’ room. She sticks her head out into the hallway to see if anyone else is around.

  “What is it?” Lis asks, eyes wide. “Tell me, tell me!”

  “Craziness,” she says, laughing manically. “Total craziness.”

  “What?” Lis asks. “You’re killing us!”

  “Janelle hooked up with Lawrence last night,” Talia whispers.

  “Okay,” I say. “We were expecting that, right? Are they a thing?”

  Talia shakes her head. “No, they’re not a thing! He just hooked up with her because . . . why not! She hooks up with everyone!”

  “Did she tell you?” I ask. “Were they here?”

  “Yes! They were here! She put up a sheet between our areas at least. But I could tell what was happening. It was way worse than with Jamon. She was super noisy and gross about it!”

  “So why is this such a scandal?” I wonder. “Does Allie know?”

  “Oh, she definitively knows. And she’s mad. Everyone knows. But that’s not the crazy part.” Talia’s eyes are gleaming. I cannot for the life of me figure out what she is so excited about, but it makes me feel slightly sick.

  “Ready?” Talia asks.

  “Just tell us,” I say.

  “He asked her to”—she lowers her voice—“masturbate for him and she did and used her hairbrush!”

  Lis gasps.

  We all look at the purple brush that is oh so casually lying on her windowsill.

  “And then he went back to his bunk and told Lenny and Max about it,” she finishes.

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  “Because I saw Max on the beach and he asked me if I saw it! And then he told me about it!”

  “Poor Janelle,” I say. I feel sick to my stomach. Janelle trusted Lawrence. They were together, and she trusted him, and he completely betrayed her. Now the whole camp is probably talking about her.

  “Poor Janelle?” Talia says. “Poor me! I had to hear the whole thing.”

  I clench my fists. “I’m sorry she did it in the room when you were here, and it definitely makes me feel differently about the hairbrush, but it’s not that big a deal. Couples do stuff together when they have sex. They try things out.”

  “They’re not a couple!” Lis says.

  “That doesn’t make Janelle wrong for doing it,” I say.
“She was sharing herself with him!”

  Seriously, who cares that she masturbated in front of him? I mean, really. Who. Freaking. Cares? And so she used a brush. Big freaking deal.

  People love to talk. People love to judge. But I mean, that’s what couples do. Try to please each other.

  But still. This is going to be a problem for Janelle.

  “How many people know?” I ask.

  “It’s spreading,” Talia says. “And she is so clueless and—”

  Talia’s sentence is interrupted by Janelle throwing open the sheet and bouncing inside in one of her trademark tube tops. “You’re back!” she says. “Hiiiii! How were your days off? I can smell the powdered sugar!”

  We all freeze.

  “Great, thanks,” Lis says quickly.

  I don’t know what to do. Do I say something? But what would I say exactly? The very fact that I know is going to make her feel horrible. “It was good,” I say slowly. “How was . . .” I hesitate. “Your day?”

  “Totally exhausting. We had soccer, which was a total shit show. Our girls cannot block a ball. But General Swim was fun. It was so hot that I went in.”

  I nod.

  Eric comes on over the loudspeaker. “Attention, all campers and counselors. Attention, all campers and counselors. It is now the end of Dinner Washup. I’m hungry. Are you hungry? Please proceed to flagpole.”

  “There’s lots more, but I’ll fill you in tonight!” she says with a wink. She grabs a sweatshirt off her bed. “Let’s round up the troops!”

  Talia and Lis are smirking to each other as they follow Janelle out of the cabin.

  I can’t help but wonder—is there any chance that Talia was the one who told everyone? Or that she made it up? Is she pulling a Zoe Buckman?

  No. She wouldn’t do that. Would she?

  Gavin and I are walking to the Counselors’ Lounge after Milk and Cookies. “What’s wrong?” he asks me.

  I sigh. “Did you hear about . . . what happened?”

  “I did,” he says. He doesn’t even hesitate.

  “I figured. She has no idea that anyone is talking about her,” I say. “I hate it.”

  “He’s a jerk,” Gavin says.

  “I can’t believe he told everyone. Or Talia told everyone.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Why does anyone do anything?” I ask. I hesitate. “How do we know that everyone isn’t talking about us?”

  “Because I am not an asshole. And no one knows. Besides Botts. And he doesn’t know what he knows.”

  “We don’t know that we’ve never been spotted. Someone could have seen something. Everyone could be gossiping about us behind our backs.”

  “True. But if everyone was talking about us, we would hear it. And we could always deny it. If we wanted to. No one knows what happens between us except us.”

  “I guess,” I say.

  “And anyway, no one really cares. Even about this brush thing. By tomorrow everyone will be over it.”

  But he’s wrong. By the next night, all the counselors in camp know. Or at least it feels like that.

  Lis and Talia stand even farther away from Janelle than they normally do at flagpole. Before she was the annoying co-counselor. Now she is genuinely a leper. Allie and her friends are clearly whispering about her on the other side of the flagpole circle.

  At dinner, I go to the kitchen to get the lasagna, and then sit beside Talia.

  “Ugh,” Talia mutters, taking a bite of her faux–peanut butter sandwich and jutting her chin at Janelle. “She is so gross.”

  “She is not gross,” I snap. “Who cares what she does?”

  “Everyone.” Talia shrugs. “I’m just glad I didn’t see. My eyeballs would be scarred.”

  “He’s the one who’s gross,” I say finally. “Why would he tell his friends?”

  “Guys always tell their friends.”

  “No, they don’t,” I say. “Not if they’re decent guys.”

  “Lawrence is a jerk. She should have known he’d be a jerk.”

  My head hurts. “So now it’s her fault that he’s a jerk?”

  “You know what I mean,” she says with a shrug.

  I don’t. And I do.

  But seriously, what the hell did Janelle do wrong? Besides hooking up with a guy she thought was hot and getting intimate in her own way? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend!

  “Why is he allowed to do whatever he wants but she’s the one everyone is whispering about?” I ask.

  Talia laughs. “Because he’s Lawrence and she’s a weirdo.”

  I help myself to a second piece of lasagna. “So if he was a weirdo, and she was . . . Allie, then everyone would be whispering about Lawrence?”

  “If Lawrence pleasured himself in front of Allie with a brush, then yes.”

  “Are you kidding me? Guys always have their hands down their pants,” I say. “Look at Bunk Two! Five guys have their hands down their pants right now! And we’re at a meal! We’re literally eating and boys everywhere have their hands down their pants right in the Dining Hall!”

  Talia just laughs. “At least they’re not eating with their hands.”

  Three boys from Bunk 2 pick up pieces of French bread. With their hands. Oops, make that four. Oh, wow, all five.

  I turn to Talia and eye her meaningfully.

  After the meal, Botts taps the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

  “I hope everyone enjoyed their lasagna!” he says. “Do you want to hear what tonight’s activity is?”

  Everyone cheers.

  “It’s Ugly Counselor Night!”

  Everyone cheers louder.

  “What does that even mean?” I ask.

  “It means the kids dress one counselor from every bunk up really ugly,” Talia says. “Guess who we’re dressing up?”

  “Don’t choose Janelle,” I say.

  “Why not? It’s just a game. And she’ll love it. Do you want to do it?”

  Part of me wants to be a good sport and save Janelle, but I’ve been where she is, and I never want to be there again. I cannot be there again. I can’t take a chance that anyone would be laughing at me instead of with me.

  Janelle is still clueless.

  At Free Play, the girls dress her in rain boots and a yellow feather boa that comes from who knows where, and tease her hair and cover her face in clown makeup, giggling the whole time.

  After Eric calls the activity, they lead her to the Rec Hall by the hand, while giggling hysterically. Every bunk has one poor counselor dressed up.

  The whole camp is in the Rec Hall for the activity. All the Ugly Counselors wait backstage while the kids get settled.

  The lights flash on and off. Here we go.

  Dance music comes on, and Josh takes the microphone.

  “Welcome to Ugly Counselor!” he calls out. “Who will be the ugliest of the ugliest?”

  Everyone cheers.

  The junior boy bunks go up first. Muffs’s face is painted purple and he is wearing a raincoat and a plunger on his head, which does not seem hygienic at all.

  Danish laughs next to me on the bench.

  Janelle is next.

  “Next up, we have Janelle from Bunk Six!”

  My girls all cheer.

  Janelle prances across the stage and shimmies.

  The rest of the campers start cheering as well, getting louder and louder.

  “Use your brush!” I hear.

  I freeze. Shit.

  There are laughs throughout the senior boy section. Lawrence’s bunk.

  His campers know too?

  “Use your brush!” someone else calls out, and suddenly the entire back section is chanting, “Use your brush! Use your brush!”

  No, no, no.

  What do I do? I have to stop it. This is the worst. The worst. They could easily be chanting Porny.

  I touch Danish’s arm.

  Onstage, Janelle seems oblivious to the chanting. Or maybe she can’t hear ove
r the loud music.

  “We have to stop them,” I say. “The boys.”

  She listens. “What are they saying?”

  “They’re telling her to use her brush.”

  Danish looks at Janelle and then back at me. “I don’t get it. Because her hair is messy?”

  “No,” I say, putting my head down. “Because she apparently masturbated with it in front of Lawrence.”

  Danish closes her eyes, looking pained. “Shit,” she says.

  “Yeah.”

  “And he told everyone.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What a fucking asshole,” she says.

  I have never heard her swear, ever.

  “She doesn’t know that everyone knows?” she asks.

  “No,” I say.

  The chanting continues. “Use your brush! Use your brush!”

  “Dammit,” Danish says. She motions to Josh to move it along.

  “Thank you, Janelle!” he says. “Next up, we have Bunk Five!”

  Danish goes to the back of the room and I see her whispering to Priya and Botts.

  “What did you say?” I ask when she comes back.

  “I told them what was going on. And told him to threaten their staff that they would all be zapped with OD if any of their campers uttered anything about a damn brush again.”

  The show continues. After all the counselors have their turn, they return onstage. Josh calls them out one at a time and asks for applause.

  I hold my breath for Janelle. There is a lot of applause. And a lot of laughing. She turns around and shakes her butt, totally obliviously. Everyone whoops and hollers.

  “Crap,” Danish says.

  “At least they’re not saying anything about a brush,” I whisper back.

  No one else gets as much applause as Janelle, so she is declared the winner.

  “Are you going to tell her?” I ask Danish when the event is over and the kids are sent to Milk and Cookies.

  She nods. “I would want to know. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes,” I say. I would.

  Danish motions for Janelle and the two of them head out of the side door. I take a deep breath and follow my kids to the Dining Hall.

  Janelle and Danish don’t return to the bunk until after curfew. Lis and Talia are in the bathroom so it’s just me in the counselors’ room.

  Janelle’s eyes are red, like she’s been crying. She’s still wearing her Ugly Counselor makeup, outfit, and teased hair. She sits on her bed and leans her head back against the wall.