I lie on my back across the bench behind home plate, and he sits beside my feet.
“I’m guessing this is somehow related to your boyfriend drama?” he asks.
“It is,” I say. One of my arms dangles to the ground, and I lean the other against my forehead. “I just . . . I told Eli. About Gavin. And now he hates me. And I don’t even know why I did what I did! I just got so caught up in this place! I love it here! I love the kids! And the staff! And I think Eli just doesn’t understand me or what this place means to me! I tried to explain but he doesn’t get it and I know that isn’t an excuse for what I did. And then he broke up with me.” I start crying again. “I just can’t believe I would do something like that. Not the telling, the . . . Gavin. Omigod, the look on Eli’s face. I’ll never get it out of my mind. I’m such an asshole.”
“You can’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I can, actually. Eli was in Europe all summer and didn’t hook up with anyone else!”
“Yeah, maybe, but Gavin has the whole broody thing going on. And those abs! I mean, you’re only human.”
I laugh, but shake my head. “I ruined a great thing.”
He picks up a baseball off the ground and tosses it from hand to hand. “Maybe your relationship wasn’t that great,” he says. “I don’t know. Maybe you wouldn’t have been looking for something else if you were so happy. Like, look at Danish and her girlfriend. They talk every night. Danish never looks at anyone else, and Marissa practically throws herself at her.”
“What? Marissa?” I remember that Marissa is Danish’s ex.
“Yeah. You haven’t noticed?”
“No,” I say.
Was I happy? I think I was when we were together. “I guess I’ve changed a little since I came to camp. I’m not the same person I was in June. In some ways for the better, and in some ways for the worse. I don’t want to be the kind of person who cheats on her boyfriend. It’s just not who I am. Or maybe it is. Maybe I have to get used to the idea that this is who I am. Someone who cheats on her boyfriend just because a guy is hot. A guy who also has a girlfriend! Ugh, I’m the worst.”
“You’re not the worst.”
“You looked at me like I was the worst. When you saw us. Gavin and me.”
“I did not.”
“You did!”
“I did not. I was just”—he hesitates—“surprised.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
He laughs.
“Thank you for not telling anyone,” I say.
“I would never do that to you,” he says.
“So what happened with . . . Lis?” I ask. “Not my business?”
He shakes his head. “She’s just not the right person for me. And I guess I knew it. I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings.”
“She’ll be okay,” I say.
“What, you think I’m that easy to get over?”
I laugh. “Summer’s done. She’ll move on.”
“Leaving a trail of broken hearts wherever I go,” he says. “That is what I’m known for.”
We hear the sound of children laughing from the road.
“I guess the movie is over,” I say. “We should go back.”
“Any guy is lucky to have you. You know that, right?”
“I guess.” I sit up and spin to face him. “Thanks, Botts.”
“Anytime, Rosenspan. Anytime.”
My girls are all walking back to the bunk, getting milk and cookies.
“Sam!” Prague screams, wrapping her arms around me. “I’ve missed you terribly! Where have you been?”
“Just dealing with some stuff, my dear,” I say. “How was the movie?”
“Great!”
“Boring!”
“Slugger fell asleep!”
“You all need a good night’s sleep,” I say, putting my arms around them. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”
Back at the bunk, Janelle is running to the shower. “I stink,” she calls out. “But today was so much fun!”
Lis and Talia are both sitting cross-legged on Talia’s bed.
“Hey,” I say.
“What happened to you?” Talia asks. “Why was Danish covering?”
I don’t want to get into it. “I had to deal with something. But I’m staying in tonight if you want to go out. You have OD, right?”
“Oh,” Talia says. “Thanks. I’m so tired, though. Lis and I were going to crash anyway.”
I strip off my clothes and put on sweats and a T-shirt.
“Did you see Janelle and her tube tops at practice today?” Talia says.
“She really needs to invest in a sports bra,” Lis says.
Talia laughs. “And a razor.”
I can’t deal with this right now. “Can you guys just stop? It’s enough.”
“Excuse me?” Talia asks.
“The bitchiness. The cattiness. I can’t listen to it anymore. So she wears tube tops. Big freakin’ deal. And why does she need to shave her armpits? The guys don’t! She shouldn’t have to shave them if she doesn’t want to!”
Lis looks scared at my outburst, but Talia rolls her eyes.
“Don’t pretend she’s not a freak,” Talia says.
“So what if she’s a freak!” I say. “Everyone’s a freak!”
“We’re not,” Lis says.
“Lis, you’ve signed your name in at least fifteen spots in this cabin. Why? And Talia! You use too much sanitizer. Like way too much. There’s no way that much sanitizer is good for you.”
They both glare at me.
“And, look, I’m a freak too, okay!” I say. “I’m freakin’ Porny! And I messed up the most important thing in my life for possibly no reason! And I kind of love frog hunting! Which is a really weird thing to love! And I’m very bad at folding! So big deal if Janelle likes tube tops! And her hairbrush! So WHAT?!”
I hear the front door open and I stop.
Janelle comes into the counselors’ room.
“Hi,” I say. I take a deep breath. “I’m going to brush my teeth,” I say, and head to the bathroom.
The last day of Superbowl is busy.
Our girls’ game is in the morning. We beat the other team. I manage to avoid talking to both Lis and Talia the whole time, too. I feel gleeful that we beat them.
Since Gavin is with the boys all day, I somehow manage to avoid talking to him.
We win inter boys, senior girls, and CIT boys, too. It all comes down to the staff game, which is Evening Activity.
Not all staff has to play, so I sit it out. So do Lis and Talia.
But we have the Tank. And Janelle. And we win the game. And the whole Superbowl. Janelle is so ecstatic when a bucket of water is poured over her and Tank to declare them the winners that I start to cry, but this time out of joy. Well, mainly.
On Friday, the second to last day of camp, it rains all day.
The kids are all inside the A & C while the four of us—me, Talia, Lis, and Janelle—are helping clean up the A & C porch.
I try to forget about what happened here with Gavin and focus on the cleaning. It doesn’t help that the four of us are barely talking. There are beads everywhere; and for the record, Janelle and I have picked up twice as many beads as they have. Janelle doesn’t seem to notice any of this—she is still on a high from winning Superbowl and she’s humming “We Are the Champions” to herself.
But suddenly the rain changes from a drizzle to a downpour.
“Wow,” I say. “This is intense.”
“Yeah,” Lis says. “Definitely intense. Can’t we make up before the end of camp?”
I look up at her and can’t help but laugh. “I was talking about the rain,” I say.
Talia sits down and sighs. “Both are pretty intense.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Janelle asks.
The three of us laugh, and we all sit down.
“I’m sorry,” Talia says suddenly. “Janelle? I know I was a total bitch this summer.”
“Me too,” Lis says
quickly. “You were a great co-counselor and I did not appreciate you.”
Wait, what? Am I in the Twilight Zone?
“You were both bitches,” Janelle says, and looks back and forth between them. “While I was nothing but nice to you.”
“You’re right,” Talia says, her voice soft. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re sorry,” Lis adds.
Janelle holds for a beat. She looks at Talia and then at Lis and then back at Talia. She opens her mouth and then closes it. Then she shrugs. “I try not to hold grudges. They’re bad for the soul. Gimme a hug!”
She lunges toward them both and wraps her arms around them.
Lis hugs her back while Talia pulls away a bit.
“Too much?” Janelle asks.
“No, it’s fine,” Talia says.
“I’m a little shocked here, ladies,” I say.
“We talked about it this morning,” Lis says. “And we decided apologizing was the right thing to do.”
“The weird thing is . . .” Talia hesitates. “I don’t know why I was so mean. I think it was because it was so easy.”
“Um . . . not sure what to do with that,” Janelle says, biting her lip.
“I don’t know either,” Talia says, and sighs again. “The girls I went to high school with were bitches. Locked me in a bathroom stall once for about three hours. Left a dead mouse in my locker.”
“Shit,” I say.
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “So when I started coming to camp, I just . . . I don’t know.”
“Thought if you made fun of other people, no one would make fun of you?” Janelle asks.
Talia nods. “Maybe. Like a strike first thing. You’re not the only person I’ve been an asshole to. But I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Lis says.
“But maybe it’s not just about you being an easy target. I think we’re just so different. You’re just so out there with your guys and your brush and your tube tops. And the truth is, I’m not . . . I’m just not that into guys.”
Ah. “Do you like girls?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Not like that. I don’t like anyone like that. Not the way you—not the way everyone—seems to.”
“Everyone’s different,” I say.
“Yeah,” she says. “Sometimes I just wish I weren’t.”
“I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday,” I say. “About the hand sanitizer and the wall signing. You’re not a freak.”
“No, you were right,” Talia says. “I am. But we all are in our own way. I just need to relax about it, maybe.”
“Eric gave me some of his pot,” Janelle says. “Want to try that? Very relaxing.”
I laugh. “Have you forgotten we are in charge of the welfare of children?”
“Goody-goody,” Janelle says, and blows me a kiss. “But fine. You’ll have to come visit me in Canada. Pot is legal there.”
“Deal,” Lis says. “Will we get to meet your half sister?”
“Maybe. I don’t introduce her to just anyone, and you guys are still on probation.”
“Fair enough,” Talia says. “I’ll try and behave.”
“And on that note,” Lis says, jumping up. “I am going to get some paint, so I can write all of our names in that empty spot right next to the door.”
I stand up, too. “Let me help.” I motion to the storm around us. “It looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.”
On Saturday, Talia packs up the kids one at a time, while I take them to activities. They leave out their shower stuff, a fancy outfit, one pair of pj’s, and an outfit to go home in. The bus leaves at ten a.m. Since the counselors are all staying an extra night, we’ll pack ourselves up then.
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch?” I ask. “I don’t mind packing.”
“I am much more organized than you,” she says. “And you are a much better counselor than me.”
The kids are sad to say goodbye to their friends, but it’s been six weeks and they are only eight and nine. They miss their families and are excited to go home. They can’t wait to see their houses, pet their dogs, hug their cats, and sleep in their own beds.
They pass around their addresses and parents’ emails and promise to stay in touch. They promise to come back next summer.
We go through the lost and found. We recycle the empty shampoo bottles. We help them untape their pictures from the walls. They write their names everywhere with Sharpie.
I write my name beside my bed. Sam Rosenspan slept here.
On the last night, dinner is a banquet. Everyone gets dressed up in their fanciest outfits and we head to flagpole. They ask Ben and Lacy, the two youngest kids at camp, to lower the flag. “Walk, don’t run to dinner!” Jill says afterward, and the kids all run.
There are white tablecloths on the tables for dinner, and the plates are set out. Oooh, pretty. Then there are three courses—salad, then steak or chicken, and finally cake.
Instead of calling freeze, we tell the girls that this time the counselors will stack. They clap but help us clean up anyway.
After dinner, we’re told we have a short twenty-minute Free Play, and then we are to head to the Rec Hall. As soon as we get to the Rec Hall, the lights dim, the screen is pulled down, and we go right into the slideshow.
Nostalgic music like Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” plays as pictures from the first day of camp scroll across the screen. Awww! It’s the girls getting off the buses! We all scream, “Lily!” as we see her walking down the road, smiling. Pictures go from day one through the first few weeks, and I love seeing candid shots of my girls. Playing softball. Eating Milk and Cookies. POTH!
Suddenly there are pictures of color war—of me and Gavin whispering and cheering.
“Go, blue!” someone yells.
The final color war picture is of us being pushed into the pool. The look on my face is pure shock and bliss.
I look over at Gavin, and he is looking at me. I smile. He smiles back.
I guess we’ll always have color war.
I look back at the screen and watch the pictures of the dance show, and Visiting Day. And there we are frog hunting! Woot!
My girls clap and scream out each other’s names as they appear on screen.
When the Superbowl pictures are done, the slideshow comes to an end.
The screen stays down, and we go right into a Sing-Song even though it’s Saturday. Jill plays the piano, while the words to all our favorite camp songs appear on screen, and everyone sings together.
We start with “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” and then move into “House at Pooh Corner,” “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,” “Hey There Delilah,” “Closer to Fine,” “One Tin Soldier,” “Summer Nights,” and “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do.” Finally we start singing “Stay (at Camp),” the final song. Everyone sings their parts.
“Why can’t we stay at camp,
Just a little bit longer.
We want to make our friendships,
Just a little bit stronger.
And the counselors won’t mind—”
All the counselors yell out, “We won’t mind!”
“And all the campers won’t mind—”
The campers yell out, “We won’t mind!”
“And all the good times that we share and all the people that we care about . . . one more time!”
We sing the song over and over again, and everyone is jumping on the benches and hugging, and the kids are crying because they don’t want to leave.
I’m going to miss this place. I came not just because it was a job, but because I wanted to prove to myself that I could make it here.
Sure, it didn’t go exactly the way I planned.
I lost a part of me.
But I gained a part, too. I learned to stand up for myself. And for other people. And that maybe I want different things than I thought.
And that I’m a freakin’ amazing counselor after all.
Just like we greeted them on the fir
st day, we put the kids back on the bus. Although this time we hug them tightly first.
They pound on the windows and wave goodbye.
We keep waving until the buses are down the road and gone.
“Now what?” I ask Lis.
“We pack up,” she says.
After we pack, and eat, and then pack some more and eat some more, we all head to Upper Field for a final bonfire. I flash back to the bonfire we had at pre-camp. Everything has changed so much. How will it feel to be all alone in my room at my parents’ house after this? No one to talk to at all times?
Muffs is sitting next to Lis. Is that her hand on his knee?
Interesting.
Talia is sitting next to Janelle.
Gavin sits down beside me while everyone sings “Leaving on a Jet Plane.”
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say back. “How’s it going?”
“It’s okay. Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure,” I say. We haven’t spoken in days.
We head down to the beach, passing counselors as we go, saying hi.
It doesn’t even matter if anyone wonders about us anymore, since we’re both single.
“Want to sit on the dock?” he asks.
I nod. We take off our shoes, leave them at the lifeguard chair, and walk to the end of the creaking dock. We sit down and dip our feet into the water.
“So what happened with Eli?” he asks.
“I told him,” I say. “He broke up with me and I haven’t heard from him since.”
“Sorry,” he says.
“Me too,” I say. “Any word from Kat?”
“Nope. Radio silence.”
“Are you going to try and get back together?” I ask.
“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s not like this other guy lives in Maryland. And it’s not like I was an angel this summer.”
“Right.”
“What about you?”
“I texted him a few times, but it might be out of my hands.”
“I guess you regret it, then,” he says. “What happened with us.”
“I . . .” That’s a good question. “I don’t know, actually.” I laugh. “I had a really good summer. One of my best summers ever, possibly.”
He laughs. “Me too.” He scoots closer to me. “So. We’re single now . . . what do you think?”
“I thought you wanted to get back together with Kat?”
Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe Page 23