Sutton
T he day after the lake day, we were scheduled to hike into the woods and take the kids camping. And backpacking with twelve middle schoolers was exhausting. By the time we arrived at the grassy meadow where we planned to set up camp for the night, we were all cranky and sore.
Still, it was beautiful. The air was thick with the scent of pine from the dense Pacific Northwest forest that circled the little clearing. A babbling creek ran along one edge, providing a soothing soundtrack to our evening activities, while a steep cliff loomed on the far side.
The plan was to stay for two nights, and we had several activities planned that took advantage of the meadow, from building a survival shelter to splashing in the stream and bouldering on the big rocks that circled the meadow.
"Alright, Blue Heron cabin, let's get these tents up before it gets dark!" I called out, doing my best to sound enthusiastic despite my exhaustion. This was a new spot, and the hike had been longer than last session's. Many of the boys were new to camp and still learning the ropes of camping, and they whined and groaned as they struggled to assemble the tent poles.
"Can't we just sleep under the stars?" one boy complained, pouting as he fumbled with the fabric.
"Too many bugs," Ben chimed in, his voice gruff but not unkind. "You don't want to wake up with mosquito bites all over you!" He moved from tent to tent, demonstrating how to stake them to the ground. I stole glances at him as he worked—the way his muscles flexed beneath his t-shirt, the sweat glistening on his brow. The way he chewed on his lip when he was concentrating drove me crazy.
"Ugh, this is so hard," another boy muttered, throwing down a tent stake in frustration. I sighed and knelt beside him, showing him how to find a softer spot to hammer it in, working to hold on to my patience, to be a good example.
"Great job, everyone," Ben said as the last tent was secured. The boys slumped on the grass with tired groans, their faces flushed and sweaty from the day's hike.
"Just a short break," I announced. "Then let's make sure we have everything ready for dinner." The boys grumbled again, and I walked to the stream to splash cool water on my face, taking a moment to look around. It was peaceful here. The gentle babble of the creek and the whispering breeze through the pines created a soothing soundtrack for our camp out. And there was something else: the absolute certainty that my father could never reach me here.
Relaxed for the first time since my conversation with my father at the start of break, I glanced around at the boys from the Blue Heron cabin. They'd all gotten to work, and Ben was with them, filtering water for their water bottles and showing them how to prep for dinner. He looked up and met my eyes, and for a long moment, we just looked at each other.
He smiled. "Have you seen Sam? I did a head count and didn't see him."
My heart squeezed with concern as I stood and scanned the area, finally spotting a slight form alone sitting on a boulder at the edge of the clearing. I walked closer, frowning when I saw that Sam's shoulders were hunched and shaking. I carefully approached the boulder, not wanting to make a commotion.
"Hey, Sam," I said softly, sitting down beside Sam on the rock. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing." Sam avoided eye contact, sniffling quietly.
I didn't press him further, instead just sitting beside Sam, letting the camper know I was there without intruding on whatever was going on. I knew what it felt like to have people intrude when it wasn't wanted, when whatever was wrong couldn't be helped. We sat like that for what felt like an eternity, the sunset painting the sky with brilliant shades of red and gold. At last, I heard Sam take a shaky breath, seeming to gather the courage to speak.
"Everything's just…hard sometimes, you know?" Sam whispered.
"We all have those days. But remember, we're all in this together. You can lean on us when things get tough."
Sam nodded, still sniffling quietly. I looked back towards the camp, giving Ben a little wave to let him know I had things handled, though I was sure Ben wouldn't interfere. For all the things Ben got bossy about, he seemed to trust me with our charges. Ben smiled at me, then went back to taking care of dinner for the rest of the kids, moving among the boys as they started a campfire and prepped the evening meal.
For a moment, I gave in to the ever-present temptation to watch Ben. My eyes were drawn to the way his lean body moved effortlessly through the process of starting a fire, his muscles flexing beneath his t-shirt. His thick, dark hair fell over his forehead, and he brushed it out of the way, leaving a smudge of charred wood behind, like a big unibrow over his glasses. A camper pointed it out, and he laughed, deep dimples flashing in his cheeks. He was so damn cute, and it was embarrassing how much I was crushing on him.
I'd always told myself I wasn't the boyfriend type—I preferred anonymous, raunchy nights in clubs, hooking up with men who were just as eager to fuck as I was. I loved cock, and I had no interest in anything more, and that was a fact. For so long, I'd told myself that my sexual preferences weren't a result of the restrictions placed upon my sexuality. Sure, I couldn't see a future with any guy, but the slut thing was just me. I loved hot, nasty, anonymous sex, and a lot of it. Even my disastrous relationship with Parker had started as a casual affair. I'd cut it off as soon as I'd realized that Parker had caught feelings, but it had been too late to stop him from getting hurt. Too late to stop my father from finding out.
Although I wasn't proud of how hurt Parker had been, I'd been clear from the beginning. And sure, I'd agreed to a few dates with him, in a rare moment of weakness. But romance and dates weren't interesting to me. I enjoyed being a freeuse fuck hole for all the men in my life. I was not, in any sense of the word, boyfriend material.
So it made no sense that Ben was causing all kinds of feelings to boil up. He was nothing but a gruff, bossy geek, and he was so far from my type that it was almost unfathomable that my body responded to him. I was a big guy but still preferred men who could physically dominate me, big older bears or jocks with muscles for days. Ben was handsome enough, but too slim to manhandle me the way I craved.
Though, from what I could tell, Ben had a very nice-sized package. Maybe that was all it was. I'd get him to dick me down once with that massive cock. I'd get that out of my system and move on. I swallowed and glanced back at Sam, pretty sure I shouldn't be thinking about the size of Ben's dick during a camper's crisis.
Though, perhaps sharing a secret might get the kid to open up. And fortunately, I had an innocent, sweet one to share.
"Hey, Sam," I said. "Can I share something with you that no one else knows?"
"Sure, I guess," Sam replied, glancing my way suspiciously.
"Okay, here goes… so I'm gay. And I haven't told anyone. I'm kind of in the closet, but still…" There, I'd said it. I'd told someone the truth. Of course, I was talking to a 13-year-old boy. And the sky hadn't fallen or anything.
"Oh. That's cool, I guess. Why are you in the closet, though? You're like, old."
"Long story." I faked a laugh, brushing over that detail. "Anyway, I have this ridiculous crush on Ben," I confessed, trying to look as sheepish as possible. "He's really not at all my type, but he's so damn cute and bossy."
Sam giggled, which surprised me. "That's not a secret at all, . It's painfully obvious."
"What? Really? I thought I was being subtle."
"Trust me, everyone can see it. But don't worry, it's kind of sweet. The two of you bicker like an old married couple." That wasn't the first time a camper had told us that, and I was happy to see Sam's smile sticking around. "But when he's not looking, you stare at him like…" Sam shrugged. "It'd be nice to have someone look at me like that, one day."
"None of you can tell Ben, all right?"
"Micah says Ben is crushing on you just as hard."
"Great, that's what I needed. A bunch of middle school boys know the secrets of my love life," I mumbled, rolling my eyes at my predicament.
"We're not all boys," Sam whispered.
"What?"
"Can I tell you something?" Sam asked nervously, looking up at me with wide brown eyes, still shimmering and red-rimmed from the tears.
"Of course," I said, with an encouraging smile. "Camp is a safe space."
"Okay, so," Sam hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard. "Um. Well, the thing is, you said 'boys', but I'm not a boy."
Sam was trans? Why hadn't anyone mentioned that to us ahead of time? "Oh shit," I said. "I'm so sorry. Was I misgendering you this whole time?"
Sam shrugged. "Not really, because I didn't tell anyone my pronouns. My mom says she wants me to take my time and decide what fits. But the thing is, being called a boy really bothers me. I think I might be nonbinary, or maybe a girl."
I frowned, thinking back to all the times I'd referred to the campers as boys and feeling guilty. "Still, I'm sorry. Not sorry you're trans, I mean, just… I didn't know. I shouldn't have been assuming the kids in our group were all boys without asking." There had been a sheet, I was pretty sure, with pronouns listed, but I, of all people, knew about not being out with your parents.
"It's not your fault. My parents put he/him as my pronouns on the camp forms. They wanted me to dress sort of, more masc than I usually do. And it's not their fault, either. They were worried I might get bullied, and, you know, they don't quite understand."
"Parents who don't understand—that's an area I'm a certified expert in."
"Mine love me, I know," Sam said. "And they're really trying. But they don't always get it. They keep saying I don't have to decide anything right away, but it… I don't know. I don't feel like myself."
I reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "Well, it's really brave of you to share. Thank you for trusting me with this. How would you feel if we told the rest of the campers which pronouns you'd like to use?"
"They/them?" Sam whispered, cheeks turning pink.
"Of course. Be patient with them. They might slip up a little, but I know these kids, and I'm sure they'll try their best."
"Thanks," they said, their cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "It's just… I thought I'd love camp, and in some ways I do. It's really beautiful here, and I love hiking and the outdoors. But I didn't think about how everything is so gendered and binary, you know? There's a boy's side and a girl's side. And there's no space set aside for people like me."
I nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that. It must be really difficult. And with the tent situation tonight…" I trailed off, putting two and two together and realizing why Sam had been so stressed out. "Is that why you are stressed? You don't want to be in a tent with a boy?"
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "I don't like to undress in front of the other kids. In the cabin, it's a little awkward, but I made it work because I can do it in the bathroom or shower stall, but I don't know what I'll do in a tent."
"You're with Micah, right? He's a cool kid. I don't think he'll be a dick about it."
Sam nodded, tears coming to their eyes again. "I hope not. Sometimes you can't tell who will react weirdly. And it's not even like he'll be able to tell. I just… it's uncomfortable for me."
"Would you be most comfortable in your own tent?" I asked.
"Um, I don't know," Sam admitted, biting their lip. "I think so, but we don't have enough for that, do we?"
"Let me see what I can do, alright?" I said, giving Sam a reassuring pat on the shoulder. They nodded gratefully, and I got up to find Ben.