Reclaim

by Martinez, Aly

  If the last two days were any indication, I was going to need a lot more drawers for Camden Cole.

  We played in the water for several hours. Made bets on who could hold their breath the longest—him. And who could do the most flips underwater—me. We even played Slapjack, and surprisingly enough, he beat me twice. By the time we returned to our little slice of peace on the creek bank, our fingers and toes were prunes and the sun hung high in the midday sky.

  “I’m starved. You hungry?” he asked, collapsing onto his towel.

  I shook my head despite the emptiness of my stomach.

  “Oh, come on.” He started zipping and unzipping various compartments on his bag. “No use in us sitting out here wasting away.” When he found what he’d been searching for, he lifted two plastic baggies in my direction. “I brought one peanut butter and jelly and one turkey and potato chip. Made ’em myself. Your pick.”

  Oh. My. God. This was worse than the bug spray.

  So, so, so much worse.

  Because it was so, so, so sweet.

  I couldn’t accept it though. Ramsey and I had made a deal years ago not to take handouts from strangers. It was easier to keep our secrets that way. If we weren’t in need, nobody asked questions.

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I had a really big breakfast.” Technically, the bowl had been really big, but the leftover cereal mixed with the dust from the bottom of the bag inside said bowl was a different story. Still, my body’s built-in lie detector did not accept half-truths and my cheeks went up in flames.

  He eyed me curiously. “You sure? You gotta be hungry by now.”

  “I'm positive.”

  That should have been the end of it. He could eat his lunch and then we’d be back to normal. Just two normal kids hanging out at a creek, running a racket on worms.

  Only the speed in which his smile disappeared as he tucked not one, but both sandwiches back in his bag wasn’t normal at all.

  His whole body deflated as he mumbled, “Okay. Never mind.”

  I narrowed my eyes and stared at the side of his face. What exactly was happening?

  Was he…disappointed? Judging by his Stegosaurus backbone, he could have benefited from eating both the sandwiches himself.

  I grabbed my backpack and sat on it so my wet bathing suit didn’t get muddy in the dirt. “You can eat, ya know?”

  He kept his gaze trained on the ground. “Nah. It’s okay. I’m good.”

  “Cam, you literally just said you were hungry. Eat.”

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, and it was so unlike him that it was jarring.

  Wow. He was disappointed. Like, actually pouting because I didn’t want to eat the sandwich he’d brought.

  No. The sandwich he’d made.

  For me.

  That he must have made at the crack of dawn because he was already at the creek, complete with bug spray, at an ungodly hour waiting on me.

  Damn, why did all of that make me feel like I was a jerk for not taking the sandwich?

  This was why I didn’t have friends. I didn't understand my own feelings, much less anyone else’s.

  We sat there in total silence for what felt like an eternity.

  Him staring at the dirt.

  Me pretending to pick at my fingernails just so I had somewhere to look that wasn’t at him.

  All of it super awkward.

  None of it worth ruining both of our days over.

  Besides, Ramsey couldn’t get mad. He took food from Thea all the time. Camden wasn’t really a stranger anymore.

  And I was hungry.

  And he was hungry.

  And there were two perfectly good sandwiches sitting right there.

  I sighed. “On second thought, maybe I am hungry.”

  His whole face lit as if it were Christmas morning. Moving fast, he retrieved them from his bag. “Which one? The peanut butter and jelly probably tastes better, but I’m awful at spreading the peanut butter, so I think I tore the bread a few times. The turkey is good too though, but I don’t know if you like sour cream and onion chips. Especially not on your sandwich. I thought about just going for regular turkey, but we were out of mayonnaise, and it seemed too plain.” Grinning from ear to ear, he thrust two baggies toward me. “Anyway, I’m not picky. So whichever one you want, I’m good with the other.”

  I bit my bottom lip. Deep down, I didn’t want either of them and not because of anything to do with torn bread or sour cream and onion chips. It was because taking his sandwich felt a whole lot like charity.

  I didn’t know the situation with Camden’s life. I’d gathered they didn’t have a ton of money and his grandparents were hard on him. But I knew myself and if I was going to take a sandwich from him and not choke on every single bite, I had to feel like it was tit for tat.

  “What’s your favorite kind of sandwich, Cam?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever. I’m easy.”

  “No. You gotta tell me. Or I’m not taking either one of those.”

  He slanted his head to the side with confusion that was so cute it made me even more uncomfortable. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ve been doing a lot of nice things for me and it’s freaking me out. Just answer a question for once, would ya?”

  “I like doing nice things for you.”

  Dang, he was smooth.

  “Not an answer,” I said firmly.

  “Okay, okay. Fine. I think my favorite would have to be chicken salad.”

  I curled my lip and finally looked back at him. “Ew.”

  He laughed. “Hey, you asked.”

  “Well, I’m no chef, so do you like anything else?”

  “I guess ham with pickles and mustard would be my second favorite.”

  Now, that I could do.

  I took the peanut butter and jelly from his hand, because let’s be honest, turkey with potato chips sounded disgusting. “Tomorrow, I’m bringing lunch.”

  He opened his mouth to object, but nothing came out.

  “And two Cokes.” It would take almost all of my money for the day to afford it, but whatever. Ramsey and Thea would eat a ham sandwich with pickles and mustard too. They’d have to buy their own Cokes though.

  “Nora, you don’t have to do that.”

  I took a big bite of the sandwich and peanut butter covered my hands because he wasn’t wrong. He had shredded the bread. I talked with my mouth full. “I know I don’t. But you brought lunch today. I’m bringing it tomorrow.”

  I felt his eyes boring into the side of my face, but he didn’t argue as he unwrapped and ate his sandwich.

  Things went back to normal after that. I broke out the batteries for his radio and we listened to music on the other side of the creek for a change in scenery.

  We laughed.

  We talked.

  We played.

  I beat him three times in a row at Slapjack, leaving the backs of his hands bright red.

  Then, right as the sun started to fade, he took off with his bucket of worms, running home in time for dinner.

  I smiled watching him go because I knew he was doing it with the ten-dollar bill I'd snuck into the front pocket of his backpack.

  The next few months were pretty uneventful for Camden and me.

  We fell into an easy routine together, arriving every morning at nine, alternating who brought lunch and the occasional Coke, and then we did absolutely nothing for the rest of the day.

  Sometimes we’d lie in the sun, reading magazines Thea had snagged from the waiting room at her dad’s barbershop. Other times, we’d play hide-and-seek, which was really just a nice way of saying I’d hide and then jump out to scare the crap out of him.

  The one thing that always remained consistent though was the ten-dollar bill we’d secretly swap each day.

  We were always together, so hiding it in each other’s stuff could be hard.

  The majority of the time, I put it in the front pocket of his bag, and his go-to spot in a crunch was to wrap it up in
my wet clothes. But every now and again, we’d get creative. Once, Camden used fishing line to sew it into a hole in the lining of my backpack. I searched for days before I found that thing. In retaliation, I used a safety pin to attach it to the back of his shirt. He’d told me he was halfway through dinner before his grandpa pointed it out.

  I had very few things to look forward to about going home each afternoon, but giggling like a fool while trying to figure out where he’d stashed the money always made the nights brighter.

  Afternoon rain showers in Georgia were as much of a guarantee as death and taxes. On those days, Camden and I would huddle up under the canopy of trees with our towels held over our heads and talk about meaningless crap. He’d let it slip a few times that he was dreading going back to Alberton. His dad worked at the papermill in town, and he was already expecting his only child to follow in his footsteps—an idea Camden wasn’t sold on. But from what I could tell, his mom sounded okay. He might have just been hungry, but he spent an hour one afternoon telling me all about her famous banana pudding. His smile was so big when he promised to bring me some one day that I didn’t have the heart to tell him I hated bananas.

  Shortly after that conversation, while fat drops of rain soaked us to the bone, he asked about my mom. I shut the question down quicker than she’d peeled out of our driveway the day she’d left.

  Camden and I were close, and I was relatively sure my secrets would have been safe with him. But having a mother who’d not only abandoned you, but had also never once looked back wasn’t bragging material.

  Thankfully, Camden never asked about my dad. Ramsey and Thea came up a lot though. They were the only family I had to be proud of, so I was all too happy to fill his ears with hilarious stories about the three of us.

  That summer, Camden killed thirty-five bugs for me Thirty. Five. Most of which had never even gotten close to my body.

  It worked out well, because come to find out, Camden was terrified of frogs and I had to rescue him a few times too. The first time one crossed his path, I was down at the other end of the creek and he screamed so loudly that it sounded like someone was torturing a cat. Being the good friend that I was, I never let him live it down and would occasionally just shriek at the top of my lungs mid-conversation to remind him what it sounded like. He glared at me a lot, but when he’d look away, a huge smile would break across his face.

  I wasn’t sure why Camden enjoyed hanging out with me. But for me, it was the fact that I finally had something of my own.

  A place I belonged.

  A friend who was always waiting for me.

  A boy I caught staring at me out of the corner of his eye more often than not.

  Since we only “worked” Monday through Friday, the weekends were long without him. I did my best to keep busy and away from my dad by hanging out with my brother, but it wasn’t the same.

  Mondays quickly became my favorite day of the week.

  I laughed more that summer than I ever knew possible. It was usually at Camden’s expense, but he got his fair share of practical jokes in too. Like the time he pretended to be allergic to peanuts when I’d slipped a few in his Coke. I thought I’d killed him for sure until he couldn’t hold back his giggles. A few weeks later, he pulled the exact same peanut prank with a Snickers I’d brought us for dessert. He collapsed all dramatic, clutching his heart. He played dead for so long he fell asleep, and then when he didn’t give up the act after I pretended to leave, I panicked, questioning whether I really had killed him that time. He woke up when I poked him with a stick and then laughed about it for weeks. And because it was so ridiculous, watching him laugh made me laugh too.

  After all the ham, pickle, and mustard sandwiches, Cokes, and gum for Ramsey every few days, I’d managed to save up over a hundred dollars. But learning how to truly laugh again might have been my greatest accomplishment that summer.

  Camden made it easy though.

  I knew it would end. Much like our job pretending to collect worms, my relationship with Camden was temporary. By the middle of August, I was painfully aware of how September would bring more than just cooler temperatures.

  A few more weeks and Camden would be gone, leaving me alone all over again. School would help. Who knew? Maybe this would be the year I allowed someone to get close enough to be my friend.

  But they wouldn’t know my favorite candy or come up with any genius money-making cons or even have his boisterous laugh and bright-blue eyes. Most of all, they simply wouldn’t be him.

  I told myself it was okay. We’d spent the most incredible summer of my entire life under the trees at that creek. I should have just accepted it and been grateful I’d met him at all.

  My body didn’t understand that though.

  About two weeks before Camden was supposed to leave, I woke up with knot in my stomach. At first, I’d thought I was coming down with a stomach bug, but as the days passed, it wouldn’t go away. The constant ache made it impossible for me to sleep or eat, and sometimes, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. It went on for days, and without any way to get me to a doctor, it scared the hell out of Ramsey. Eventually, I couldn’t take his nervous glances and constant checking up on me anymore, so I faked feeling better.

  He bought it. At least I think he did, but around the same time, Camden started to worry about me too. There were only so many excuses I could come up with every day for why I wasn’t eating lunch.

  Yes, they were both right to be concerned. Something was seriously wrong with me, and as the summer drew to a close, the knot in my stomach had become a boulder that was too heavy to carry.

  I was always tired.

  I was always irritable.

  I was always just one comment away from tearing apart at the seams.

  But I didn’t know what else to do. So I started lying to Camden too. And you know what? When you’re scared and alone and you need something to be true so badly that you start to believe it yourself, it’s not hard to lie to other people anymore.

  I felt like death when I woke up that particular morning. I cried in the shower, clutching my stomach for over an hour, but being that it was Camden’s last day, I pulled myself together, got dressed, and headed to the creek.

  I was fifteen minutes late, but he was nowhere to be found. I searched for a while, hoping he was hiding, waiting for his moment to even the score for all the times I’d scared him in the past. But when I’d checked the plastic container he’d dug into the ground, I found it filled with worms and a note tucked inside.

  Nora,

  My parents got here last night to pick me up. They planned a whole stupid barbecue with all my aunts and uncles and cousins for today. I should be back around five, but I might be late, so bring a flashlight.

  Camden

  P.S. Get ready! My mom is making banana pudding!!!

  P.S.S. Mr. Leonard was still asleep, so the worms are all yours today.

  P.S.S.S. Am I doing this P.S. thing right? I got a C in English.

  P.S.S.S.S. I’d rather be there with you.

  God, I was going to miss him.

  I spent the morning staring up at the sky. I chalked it up as a practice for my sad, lonely future after he left. Yeah, fine. I was being dramatic. But I was eleven and losing the only friend I’d ever had. I was allowed to be dramatic.

  The walk home seemed longer that day.

  Cars passed. People waved. And my stomach ached with such a heavy weight that I had to stop and catch my breath a few times.

  My dad was home when I got there, which meant I couldn’t stay unless I wanted Ramsey to have a heart attack, so I grabbed my flashlight from under my bed and headed out to find my brother and Thea.

  I’d always loved their tree, standing tall in the middle of the Wynns’ hayfield. It had plenty of shade, a cool breeze, and enough space to give the illusion of privacy.

  Our creek was still better.

  Thea and Ramsey weren’t there when I arrived, but no matter where they were, they’d en
d up at that tree at some point. I peeled my backpack off, sat with my shoulders against the bark, and did my best to ignore the overwhelming dread of waiting to say goodbye to my best friend.

  “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were working today?” Ramsey asked when he showed up about twenty minutes later. I didn’t have a chance to reply before his face suddenly paled. “What’s wrong? You feeling sick again? What hurts?”

  I shook my head, crossing and uncrossing my legs at the ankles. “Relax. I’m fine. It was hot earlier, so I’m going back tonight when things cool off.”

  With a twitch of his head, he cleared his shaggy, brown hair from his eyes as he studied my face to see if I was telling the truth.

  I wasn’t, but I was getting pretty good at the whole lying thing, so I passed the test anyway.

  “Want me to go with you?” he asked.

  “We could both go,” Thea added, suddenly appearing as only my brother’s shadow knew how. She grinned and sank down next to me. Sir Hairy—canine royalty of mutts—wedged himself between us and began covering my face with sloppy kisses.

  I gave his ears a good scratch and replied, “It’s the last Friday night before school starts. Don’t you two have anything better to do?”

  They looked at each other and shrugged, replying in unison, “Not really.”

  “Well, find something better. I’m good for the night.”

  “Suit yourself,” Ramsey said, backing up several steps, his gaze aimed at his favorite branch above our heads. I’d seen him make that climb enough to know what would follow next. A run, a grunt, some magical foot work, and finally a sigh as he pulled himself up to sit on top of a branch.

  Thea stopped him in his tracks. “Hey, Ramsey, can you take Hairy to do his business out by the ditch?”

  My brother curled his lip. “Why didn’t you let him go on the way over?”

  “Well, I did. But I don’t think he was really done yet.” She lifted the leash in his direction and gave it a shake. “Please. For me?”