Chapter One
“Cold Love” by Rainbow Kitten Surprise trickles from Kristen’s portable speaker.
The whisper vocals and the soft thump of the bass ooze out, gripping my heart and making me pause mid-lick of my triple-scoop salted caramel cone.
This song. The hairs on my arms stand up even though I’m baking in the eighty-degree sunshine.
With the heat consuming me on the outside, my mind takes me back to that cool summer night six weeks ago when my whole life was turned upside down and I was too infatuated to notice.
I shift back to reality. The one where Hannah and I aren’t speaking anymore.
After the way things ended at camp, I need space, to put some distance between me and that whirlwind feeling that clouds my judgment whenever I’m around Hannah.
I got back from camp a few hours ago, and as promised, my best friend was leaning against her car, parked at the curb in front of my house, ready to whisk me away for a “tea” and ice cream sesh.
“How’s your cone?” Kristen asks, holding hers out to me.
I grab her coffee and cream swirl in my free hand while she gathers her blond mane into a messy bun on top of her head. I catch a glimpse of the amateur sun stick and poke tattoo dotting the inside of her wrist, something new from our summer apart.
“It’s good, refreshing,” I tell her, taking another lick.
She reclaims her cone and we both take a second to lick and, in her unfathomable case, chew our ice cream.
I take in her yin-yang ring. It matches the one that showed up on my cabin doorstep at Camp Refuge in July with nothing but a return address to let me know it was from my best friend.
The ring, the tattoos on her wrist and tucked behind her ear, are all new.
“So, how was Bible boot camp?” Kristen asks, stretching her legs out across the bench on her side of the table.
“It wasn’t a boot camp. It was actually pretty nice,” I say, and at least—to some degree—that’s true. This summer was a lot of things, “nice” being one of many conflicting descriptions.
“Details,” she demands.
“I was in one of the cabins that faced the lake, so that was cool. The other counselors were friendly, and the services weren’t overbearing.”
“You mean you didn’t spend every spare second with your head bowed in prayer?”
Even though she’s teasing, I know there’s a part of Kristen that still resents me for leaving her this summer. This was our first time being apart since becoming friends in kindergarten. Considering the mess I got myself into without her, I might have to rethink going away for college…
Camp Refuge was my parents’ idea. At first, I wasn’t entirely sure why they thought it made sense for me to be a counselor the summer before my senior year of high school, especially since I never attended when I was younger.
But then they reminded me that I hadn’t been outside northeast Ohio.
Even though I wasn’t going to a sandy beach in Florida or California, Camp Refuge was something.
It’s also run by our church, which was the main selling point for my dad.
“It was fun,” I say, focusing on my ice cream instead of looking into Kristen’s eyes.
I haven’t decided if I want to tell Kristen about me and Hannah.
At first, I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about us because being with her, being with a girl, was not something I ever imagined for myself.
I didn’t know if liking Hannah meant I was fully gay or if it meant I just really liked Hannah, and I wanted to figure that out for myself.
I was excited to figure it out… But after everything blew up in my face at the end of camp, I’m not ready to talk about our time together, even with Kristen.
What happened at Camp Refuge can stay at Camp Refuge.
“Okay, but for real, please tell me you made out with at least one hot Christian boy,” Kristen presses.
I can’t help but laugh. “Kris, that’s not what Christian summer camp is for,” I remind her, regaining my composure and licking melted ice cream off my knuckles.
“Okay, then spill!” Her eyes grow wide, her excitement contagious. “What was it like to get the heck out of Stow?”
She leans forward with her elbows on the table, her ice cream perched in front of her face.
“Okay, okay,” I say, resisting the heavy feeling trying to weigh me down, reminding me of what a horrible friend I am for keeping so much from her, for not trusting her.
We tell each other everything, but for now, I try to focus on what is safe to share.
“I liked having a clean slate, you know? I was just a girl who lived in a cabin off the edge of a beautiful lake. We took care of kids during the day, but at night we had time to ourselves and that was the best…” I try to think of more things to say.
Camp Refuge is in central Ohio, almost three hours south of Stow. There’s a man-made lake surrounded by cedar cabins; a small church with rooms for services, game nights, and Bible study; and the entire campground is encircled by woods for miles. It’s an escape to get closer to God.
Or to each other…
“But what about the other counselors? What about the night swimming Jameson told you about?” Kristen asks, splaying her free hand in exasperation.
At the start of summer, Jameson was my main goal.
We attended Sunday school together when we were little and then sang in the choir until I convinced my mom that I was a weak link with my inability to carry a tune.
Soon after, we were together at youth ministries until I was finally old enough to not be forced to attend church every Sunday.
You could say our love was fated by God himself.
At least, I used to tell myself that. But then I got to know Hannah Fitzpatrick.
“The other counselors were cool,” I say, quickly biting my ice cream.
“And the night swimming?” she asks, huffing in disbelief. “This is like pulling teeth.”
The truth? I went night swimming once. It was before Hannah and I found our way to each other and discovered that the woods around Camp Refuge had so much more to offer than swimming in the ravine behind the mess hall.
Still, to not blatantly lie, I say, “It was fun, but not as racy as you want it to be. We would all wade or sit on the rocks and just talk about our lives back home. And, no, I did not make out with any ‘hot Christian boys.’ ”
“So, what you’re telling me is that you leaving me in Stowhere nowhere land to conquer new territory was a complete waste?” She cocks her eyebrow before taking a huge chomp out of her ice cream.
“It’s all about perspective.”
For a second, I consider throwing caution to the wind and telling her about Hannah.
Kristen is my best friend, she loves me, and she’s not a Christian.
She won’t care the way the other counselors cared.
I could share my life-changing, exciting, amazing—except for the very end—summer.
She’d probably be happy for me—surprised, but happy.
But that would break the seal. I barely scraped by at the end of camp after the Incident. To have walked away from being outed at Christian summer camp relatively unscathed, without a phone call home to alert my parents, was a miracle. I want to tell Kristen, but what if I jinx this second chance?
We fall silent, focusing on our cones for a moment. Kristen twists hers around to get a near three-sixty lick. Her tattoo flashes in front of me, and I see an opportunity to take the attention off myself.
“Let’s not pretend like you did nothing this summer.
What’s with this?” I reach across the table and grab her wrist, turning it back over to reveal the tattoo.
“I noticed the one behind your ear too. Plus, when did you suddenly get into the Chinese philosophy of dualism?” I tap my ring, and Kristen reflexively glances down at her own.
“First of all, why do you have to be so extra? ‘Chinese philosophy of dualism?’ It’s YIN and YANG. Just call it what it is.” We both laugh at her mocking me, my chest loosening a little. “Second, the tattoos were a gift.”
“A gift? You know that’s going to last forever, right?” I ask.
“Just like the sun,” she says, smiling down at her wrist tattoo. The one behind her ear is a crescent moon, so I figure there’s no point arguing against that one, since it’ll last forever just like the moon.
“Who is it from, then?” I ask.
Kristen’s cheeks flush with a rosy tint. She looks down at her dwindling cone and sticks the rest of it inside her mouth, making it impossible for her to talk.
“Oh, come on. Is it really some big secret?”
Kristen rolls her eyes playfully, pointing at her mouth before standing up to take her napkin to the trash.
I decide to finish my cone before it completely melts.
I’m wiping my face as she sits back down across from me.
Kristen clasps her hands together, weaving her fingers and bringing her knuckles to her lips.
She takes a deep breath before moving her hands and saying, “I met someone.”
Same.
“Who?”
“Let’s not get into that just yet,” she says, smiling uncontrollably. As her best friend, I know when she’s hiding something.
“Okay, intrigue,” I say, leaning in a little.
“Clarity, you don’t want to know,” she tells me, her tone more insistent.
“I definitely want to know who replaced me this summer,” I counter.
“You’re going to judge.”
“I won’t, okay? I promise.”
“Ugh, you’re definitely going to judge,” she grumbles, a smile sneaking on to her face.
“I am not,” I say, trying to reassure her while also racking my brain for potential guys at our school who a) she would want to hang out with and b) I would judge. The anticipation only makes me more curious.
Kristen covers her face with her hands, shaking her head.
“How about this,” she says, finally. “You’ll meet him tomorrow at school, but only if you genuinely promise not to judge?”
“Are you in a relationship with this young man?” I ask, trying to mimic her mom’s Southern accent.
Kristen blushes, only confirming the suspicion. But she still reveals nothing. She holds out her pinky, and though I still have my doubts, I hook my pinky around hers and swear to keep an open mind.
“So, I guess that means I’m in the Single Seniors Club, and you’re otherwise engaged,” I add.
“I was really hoping you would finally hit it off with Jameson or meet someone at camp who happened to go to our school or a school close by. That way we could do the whole double date thing. Maybe drag our boyfriends to our last first Friday night football game,” Kristen says, pouting a little.
Even if Hannah and I were moving forward with a secret relationship like we talked about, that would never have room for stuff like double dates, and definitely not at school.
I let myself picture what it might be like, Kristen and her boyfriend, Hannah and me, on a double date.
Apple picking in Hudson or walking the corn maze at Szalay’s farm.
It’s a nice idea… one that would be way less anxiety inducing if Hannah were a guy and there was no threat of anyone or everyone looking at me differently for being myself.
“Hey,” I say, getting Kristen to look at me. “Even though we usually do everything together, this doesn’t have to be one of those things. I’m happy for you and he who shall not be named, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t shine because of me.”
“Ugh, Clarity! I don’t deserve you.” Kristen smiles and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “I really hope you guys get along.”
“Me too,” I say.
I’m optimistic. Even though everything turned upside down at Camp Refuge, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure nothing changes here at home, especially not between Kristen and me.