20. Miller
“You get the mail yet?” Dave asks, sliding into the seat at my table.
“No. I was going to grab it after lunch.” I set the plates out for the campers, working my way around Dave. “Don’t you have your own table to set up?”
He shrugs. “I’m sitting with Jackson today. He’s setting it up.”
Lucky bastard. They spread out the counselors, assigning us to tables so there’s some kind of authority figure present; I use the term loosely when it comes to Dave and me. The way the numbers work out, there are some tables that have one counselor, and some with two. I’ve always been stuck alone, no matter how many times I try to swap the assignments to sit with Becca.
“Any idea what’s for lunch?” I hand him the napkins to set out. If he’s sitting at my table for now, he can help out.
“BLT, maybe?” He tosses a napkin on each plate, which I move into the appropriate spot. Was the guy raised in a barn? Napkin and fork on the left, spoon on the right. My mama raised me right.
“Nice. Anyway, I’ll grab the mail on the way back. You expecting something?”
Dave wiggles his eyebrows. “Yeah. Weekend assignments, man. We get them on Fridays. The two-week campers go on overnight trips, camping and stuff. Some of the counselors have to go with them, and some stay here to help the one-week campers head home and then get a half day off.”
“Cool. Well, if you get the mail, let me know so I don’t have to stop at the office.”
I focus on setting out cups. I’m not sure I’m particularly excited about the prospect of a weekend camping trip. I’ve never been camping, so I don’t have anything against it, but I’m not sure I’m the guy you’d want in charge of an expedition like that.
If anything, I want to spend time at camp, if that’s where Becca will be.
We’re making progress. I can feel it. She let me hold her after the sailboat incident. Her leaning on me felt so good, literally and metaphorically. I want her to know she can lean on me any time. Because she has to trust me to let me in.
And we’re so close to her opening up the tiniest bit. I can feel it.
The dining hall door bangs open, and the sound of hungry campers streaming in fills the room as Dave heads back to his table.
* * *
I rub my belly as I head to the office to pick up the mail, full of bacon and bread, which is the only part of BLTs that I actually like.
There’s a stack of paper in the slot marked FF2—Fireflies 2—and I slide it out in one pile and sort it on the way back to the cabin. There are ten letters for the campers, which always amazes me since there are only eight of them.
I check the names, finding two for Noah, three for Ben, and one for most of the others.
Buried between the envelopes are two strips of paper, clearly cut from a larger list. I squint at them.
DAVE S: CABIN DUTY/OFF
MILLER Q: CHOCORUA/CO-COUNSELOR BECCA P.
I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. I don’t know what the fuck Chocorua is, or even how to pronounce it. But I know who Becca is. And this means she’s stuck with me for the weekend.
I pull out the phone that I stuck in my back pocket before the activities period. Yeah, I know, no phones at camp. But it’s not like I’m the only one breaking this rule. In fact, I think for most of the week I was the only one without a phone in my pocket. It has to be the most commonly ignored rule, after the one about keeping staff relationships secret from the campers. Everyone knows Jackson is hooking up with Lillian. The campers are the ones who told me about it.
CARD SHARKS
Things are looking up. I’m doing some kind of overnight with the girl.
Blake: That sounds promising. What kind of overnight?
Maddox: Like with campers? Or just you two?
With campers. It’s some kind of camping thing, I think. Like in tents.
Cam: God, I’d pay money to see you sleeping outdoors in a tent. Are you bringing your scented candles along?
You’ll be happy to know I’ve been surviving without them up here. Just me and the sweet smell of little boys’ feet.
Blake: Well, let us know how it goes. Maybe find out what kind of camping before you go.
Blake: And don’t let any campers fall off cliffs.
Dude, I may be new at this whole counselor thing, but I know you’re not supposed to let them fall off cliffs. Becca’s amazingly good at the whole counselor thing. Most of what I do here is just watching her and then copying, more or less.
Cam: So you’re having fun?
Pretty much. Not last night when a kid woke me up at two in the morning because he had a nightmare. But otherwise.
Maddox: You think that’s bad? Holly woke me up in the middle of the night two days ago and made me go to the store for mint ice cream and hot sauce. She ate them together.
I guess that mean’s the pregnancy is still going well?
Maddox: So far, yeah. She’s into the second trimester.
Cam: Man, I can’t wait to see you as a dad.
How’s Addie?
Cam: Busy busting my balls as usual. Love her to death. Going to nail down some wedding plans once Blake gets back.
Back from where?
Blake: I’m in Colorado with my brother. Middle of nowhere.
Nice. Talk soon.
Cam: Good luck.
We get more information that evening, passed out at dinner to each of us assigned to trips. It’s a single page, which for someone going camping for the first time seems woefully insufficient.
There’s a list of the campers that will be coming along: three of the two-week campers from my cabin, and four girls from Becca’s cabin. A packing list, which includes mostly items I don’t have. And some information about Chocorua, which is apparently a mountain that we’ll be hiking.
Brett knocks on the cabin door as I’m reading through the list while the campers brush their teeth and clog toilets in the bathrooms. “Hey, how’s it going?”
I look up from the paper. “Hey. Good. What’s up?”
“Everything okay?” Dave looks mildly alarmed at the sight of the camp director.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just stopping by to say hi.”
Dave nods, then excuses himself to head to the bathroom to supervise.
Brett chuckles as Dave heads toward the communal bathroom. He sits on Dave’s bed. “I usually only come by the cabins when someone’s in trouble. He probably thinks I’m going to fire you.”
I snort. “You won’t fire me. You want the payout for the camper scholarship fund.”
“True story. You’re sticking it out so far, though. Need anything for the trip this weekend? I wasn’t sure if you had all the backpacking gear.”
I rub a hand over my chin. “Yeah. I have, like, none of this stuff.”
“Want me to see if Dave will go instead?” Brett smirks.
“Fuck no,” I say, too quickly, as Brett’s smirk grows.
“Thought so.” He stands. “We have a bunch of wilderness gear for anyone to use. Backpacks, water bottles, all of it. I’ll have someone show you where it is after breakfast tomorrow.”
* * *
“We have to carry all of this?” I stare in disbelief at the musty-smelling item Jason is holding out.
“Um, yes. Were you planning to drive your car up the side of the mountain?” The wilderness coordinator looks like he’s judging me, and frankly, I don’t need that.
“I mean, obviously not. I just figured we’d hike and then settle at a campsite or something.” The thing he’s calling a backpack not only smells weird, but it’s massive and somehow attached to a metal frame.
I take it, and Jason turns around to search through a pile of equipment for something else.
“You will. The campsite is a good three miles from the parking lot.” He holds out another canvas-covered item, this one a garish shade of orange. “And you sleep in tents. That you also bring with you.”
He loads me up with not only the backpack and the tent, which is apparently contained in the orange sack, but also a sleeping bag that doesn’t smell much better than the rest of the gear, four water bottles, a cooking stove that he shows me how to assemble, a canister of fuel for the stove, and a bottle of iodine pills.
“To purify your water,” he explains. “But there isn’t a water source where you’ll be camping, so you’ll need to carry a bunch in.”
I’m really, really not sure about any of this. But then again, it’s a chance to hang out with Becca, so I’m taking it.
Maybe she knows how to use this stove.
* * *
“Who’s ready to go hiking?” Becca asks the gathered campers the next morning.
They cheer in response.
“Okay, let’s make sure everyone has their gear before we go. Yes, Liam?” she asks, nodding at my camper’s raised hand.
“I brought my green shoes,” he announces.
Bayley raises her hand. “I have a flashlight. It has different colors if you push a button.”
Becca hold her hand up. “Good, thank you both. Now, no talking for a minute, just listening ears. If I say something and you don’t have it, raise your hand. Silently, remember? We can run and grab it now, but once we get in the van, we just have what we’re carrying. Okay?”
She looks from camper to camper, then to me before she lists off items. Somehow, I actually have everything on her list, thanks to Jason.
We stow the kids’ backpacks in the back of the massive van, stacking and fitting them together so everything fits.
Becca slams the back door of the van. “You want to drive?”
I may not have any clue about camping, but I know how to drive, even a massive vehicle like this. “Sure. You going to join me in the front?” Maybe we’re starting off well.
She shakes her head. “I’ll supervise in the back. It’s a big van, and I don’t trust them.”
I hate missing out on one-on-one time, but she has a point.
With Becca’s presence keeping them sane, the kids hold it together for the thirty-minute drive to the parking lot by the trail head.
I pull the van off the main road and onto a dirt path marked by a small wooden sign. There are two other cars in the parking lot. A large sign stands to one side, where the path begins. I park the van in the large open space. I don’t trust myself to park this monstrosity between the Prius and the Subaru, both of which look like they belong to people who fit the idea of outdoorsy kids much better than I do.
The kids pile out of the van. We help them struggle into their backpacks one by one. Mine easily weighs four times what one of theirs does. I stagger a step backwards when I heft it onto my shoulders.
Becca swings her backpack onto her back with practiced ease. Hers is dark purple and doesn’t have the metal frame that mine does. She leads the way to the trail head.
“Okay, guys. Here’s the deal. I’m going to be the leader, so no one goes ahead of me. Miller is going to be in the back.”
I give a small noise of protest. Becca pointedly ignores it.
“We’re going to take it slow and steady, okay? Lots of breaks. No one falls back behind Miller. If you lose sight of the people in front of you, just wait for the people behind you.”
Okay, one of us in front and one at the back makes sense when she explains it that way. I’m still disappointed that I don’t get to hike next to her, but maybe I can do a better job and stay focused enough that no one gets hurt.
“We’re off!” Becca announces, starting the trek into the forest.
I count the campers as they file past me, following Becca. By the time the last camper passes me and I take up the rear, Becca is so far ahead that I can’t see her.
The backpack makes every step heavy, and I struggle to keep my balance as we get started, but after a few hundred yards I hit my stride. I smile to myself. Becca may be yards ahead of me and too far away to talk to while we hike.
But we do have all weekend together.