Chapter 11 Always Apply Sunscreen, Children
My lungs are aching and I’m gasping for air, but for once, it’s not because of running too many laps.
“It’s not funny!” Noah protests for the second or third time, though he’s failing to hold back a laugh of his own.
For the past fifteen minutes, we’ve been playing a game of keep-away—passing a ball among seven of us and trying to make sure it doesn’t end up in the hands of the eighth person who’s standing in the middle of our circle and desperately trying to catch it.
That eighth person just so happens to be Noah, like, half the time.
Yasmeen throws to Liam again, and in an attempt to get to the ball first, my brother jumps, hands frantically trying to catch it, but he ultimately fails when Liam secures it instead.
“I’m sorry, but,” Liam wheezes out as soon as they’ve caught it, doubling over in a way that’s extra funny since they’re the tallest of our group, “you just look a bit pathetic standing there…AGAIN!” He pretty much screams then, laughing even louder than before.
Unfortunately for Noah, the sound is so contagious that the rest of us can’t help but join Liam once again.
We’ve been laughing for five minutes now, and my inability to stop has left me with a lack of balance.
None of this is necessarily that funny, let’s face it, but being in this moment, the giggles just keep coming.
Every time I think I’m starting to run out, someone else says something and I’m right back to where I started, bursting into laughter again and again.
“Yeah, yeah.” Noah sighs once we become a little less hysterical. “We get it. I suck at this game, and you all enjoy my misery. Why am I always the laughingstock of this group?”
Maya doesn’t miss a beat, asking him, “Noah, sweetie, have you ever been part of a group where you weren’t the laughingstock?”
“Touché,” he admits.
“We can stop if you want to, though,” Sloane assures him, but Noah shakes his head.
“No need. As long as I get to make you all laugh, I’m happy, too.”
Sloane practically melts on the spot, hearts in her eyes as she looks at my brother, but it’s Maya who responds. “You’re such a sap.”
We play for a little longer, talking and laughing until the only person who hasn’t had to stand in the middle is Sierra.
“Damn, how are you so good at this?” Yasmeen asks her when Sierra intercepts the ball yet again.
Sierra shrugs. “That’s what happens when you grow up with a father who has to be playing some kind of game all the time. You get good at them.”
“Sometimes,” Liam says, “I forget your father is the same Adrian Levine I looked up to when I was younger.”
“Honestly? Same.” Sierra sighs.
Before she can elaborate, someone behind me says, “Hi, everyone!”
I spin around, coming face to face with Gigi, who is taking in all eight of us. “This,” she starts, “is perhaps the strangest combination of people I’ve ever seen.” She pauses for a second. “I like it. You have a very Breakfast Club–core thing going on here.”
Maya gasps. “Gigi, you absolute genius!” they exclaim. “Now we finally have a club name!”
Gigi laughs at the groan Veronica lets out just as Liam protests, “We really don’t need a club name, Maya.”
“Yeah,” Noah agrees. “Our group is already called SMASHERS!”
They proceed to get into a discussion, at which our camp counselor shakes her head fondly. Then she asks, “Ellie, can I steal you away for a second?”
Immediately my eyes search for Sierra’s, trying to see if she’s okay with me leaving her here.
She’s certainly been bonding with the rest of the group, but it’s also only been, like, twenty-four hours since she joined, and I don’t want her to feel awkward and alone.
As if she knows exactly what I’m looking for, Sierra nods for me to go ahead.
I turn back to Gigi. “Yeah, sure.”
She leads us to her cabin, where we sit down the same way we did on the second day of camp. It makes me feel weirdly nostalgic. I’d almost want to say that version of me was so clueless, even though it was just a little over a week ago.
“How are you doing? Not too overwhelmed?” Gigi asks.
I think about it for a moment. “It is overwhelming sometimes—well, most of the time—but surprisingly, I’m surviving.” I pause for a second, then add, “I guess you were right about me finding my place here soon enough.”
She practically glows at my words. “I never once doubted that, but it’s still amazing to hear you’re doing well! Does there happen to be anything else I was right about?” Her eyes spark as her warm smile turns into a mischievous grin.
I look down at my hands, which are resting in my lap. “Yes,” I tell her, knowing what she’s getting at. “Apparently Sierra and I really do make a good team. I think…I think I really needed someone like her in my life.”
“I know,” Gigi says, a bit more serious now. “But make sure you don’t forget that you’re doing just as much for her as she is doing for you.”
I think about those words. About how they might hold a truth I haven’t considered yet: I could mean something to Sierra, too.
Because, until I practically forced her to be my friend, she closed herself off from everyone.
She wasn’t here for the fun part of summer camp—she admitted that on our second day—but then I showed her that she’s allowed to live a little, and now she’s with our friends, playing a silly little game outside.
So yeah. Maybe I’m helping her, too.
“Gigi, what even are you? My personal angel?” I ask, at which she immediately shakes her head.
“Nope. You should actually thank David for all this.”
Despite myself, I cringe at the thought of the fifty-year-old camp counselor being my guardian angel. “Oh god, now I’m picturing him in an angel costume.”
Gigi decides to ignore that comment, probably not wanting to traumatize herself by thinking about it too much. A wise choice.
“Don’t tell David I said any of this,” she starts, “but…he’s actually the one who came up with the idea to match you with Sierra.
Which is funny, because he has never made a match before,” she explains.
“I guess he made an exception this year. He’s known Sierra for a long time because of her dad.
The two of them are old teammates and friends, so he’s practically watched her grow up, and he knows she hasn’t really been open to making any friends since her mother’s death and the drama with her ex-teammates.
“When David saw you during charades, he told us you seemed like a kind, patient, and persistent person. Exactly what Sierra needed—someone who would not give up on befriending her. So there’s that,” she finishes.
“Although David does insist the only reason he did this was to strengthen Sierra’s volleyball skills.
He keeps saying that a strong emotional connection between teammates makes for better players.
” Gigi rolls her eyes. “It’s definitely true, but there’s no way that’s the only reason.
Not that the grumpy old man will ever admit it, though.
The matchmaking was always Mara’s thing—Sierra’s mother.
She was a therapist, you know, and even though Adrian and David used to claim it was some type of emotional bullshit, at some point they couldn’t keep denying that it worked. ”
I nod, trying to process what she’s telling me. I’ve been wondering why a seemingly unsentimental man like Adrian Levine would care for matchmaking based on emotional compatibility, but now it all makes sense. Still, that is not the part my brain is stuck on.
Exactly what Sierra needed, the voice in my head repeats over and over again. The rest of Gigi’s words are not nearly as interesting as that phrase. I blush for no apparent reason.
“I’m glad Sierra has David looking out for her here,” I say, not knowing what else to tell Gigi.
She laughs softly at my awkwardness. “Sorry, I really was planning to just check up on you and not give you a whole lecture on Sierra’s life.
I’m just glad to see you two so happy. You both deserve it,” she says then, leaning back in her chair.
“You can go have fun now, Ellie. I’ll be here whenever you need me, okay? ”
I nod, forcing a smile through the sadness of my discovery. “Okay. Thank you, Gigi. All this…it means more to me than you know. I’m glad I have you looking out for me here.”
“Oh my god,” Gigi says. “With all the love in the world, Ellie, please get out of my cabin. I do not want you to see me cry.”
I throw my head back in a laugh, opening the door. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
With the sun shining right on my face and the soft sound of laughter in the background, I walk back to the spot where I left my friends behind.
They’re still there, playing the same game.
This time, they’re trying to keep the ball out of Veronica’s hands, who, as to be expected, curses all of them whenever she isn’t able to catch it.
She even calls Liam an asshole for teasing her, which makes him laugh.
I watch my friends, not announcing my presence just yet. It’s strange. A week or so ago, I wasn’t close to any of these people—didn’t even know some of them existed—but now I can’t imagine a life in which my heart doesn’t tug me toward them.
After all these years of longing for it, I think I finally know what belonging somewhere feels like.
It’s knowing that even when things aren’t perfect, everything has fallen right into place.
It’s realizing that despite and because of everything, you wouldn’t change a single piece of the puzzle. Not really.
I don’t know how long I stand there, unnoticed, but eventually Sierra’s eyes find mine. She smiles, looking at me in a way that makes me feel like there’s a warm campfire in my chest in place of my heart.
“Are you going to join us or just stand there smiling like a total goof?” Sierra asks.