Chapter Nine
Of all the campers, I’d never have suspected that quiet, soft-spoken Trina would be the one who loves being in the mosh pit at punk shows, but we truly do contain multitudes.
We’ve just finished our Getting to Know You challenge that Gabby alluded to in the van, in which we learned that Valeria has a pair of English Bulldogs named Charles and Camilla, Sue-Ellen qualified for the Olympics in swimming, and that Kei used to be in the army.
Isa (who I learned is the youngest of six siblings, all girls—explains so much!) and I technically won, but there doesn’t seem to be a prize or advantage other than bragging rights.
“Great job, everyone!” Gabby has appeared with her ever-present smile.
I bet she cries herself to sleep at night.
“You have a couple of hours of downtime before dinner, which will be prepared by Damian and Harmony!” We applaud as Damian salutes and Harmony waves like a contestant in a beauty pageant.
“And then it’s time to get ready for your first Camp Couple-Up party! ”
Clap and cheer, clap and cheer, we’re on a constant cycle of clapping and cheering. Christ, this is tiring. I’m too crusty to be this earnest and enthusiastic all the damn time. How am I going to do this all day, every day, for four fucking weeks?
Desperate for some downtime, I decline an invitation from Harmony and Valeria to play horseshoes so that I can go back to the Bunkhouse to lie down.
But back in my bunk, I can’t relax. The air is stuffy and close, and I feel like I might crawl out of my skin.
I need to get outside. Maybe if I jump into the lake I’ll work off some of this nervous energy.
I pull on my bikini and grab a towel. It occurs to me that I should probably ask someone, but none of the producers are around, so I decide it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
I take off on a light jog down the path to the beach. The dense thicket of trees closes in quickly, rippling in the breeze as if it’s welcoming me. It’s instantly dark and cool, a welcome contrast to the summer heat. I shiver and pick up my pace.
On the beach, I pull off my sneakers and tiptoe over the sharp rocks to test the water. It’s chilly, but calm. I wade in, yelping as it laps my thighs.
I turn back toward the beach. It’s empty, and except for the nine cameras I can see, I’m all alone. I’ve never been alone in a lake before. I feel something graze my shin and I jump, flailing into the water. The cold is a shock to the system.
I pump my legs and paddle my arms as fast as I can, pushing away thoughts about what might be lurking in the dark water around me.
It feels good to move my body, to feel my heart pounding in my chest. But unfortunately, my strength (minimal) and stamina (non-existent) aren’t where they need to be for a long swim.
After a few minutes, I sputter onto the shore. My heart is thudding in my chest and my muscles are screaming, but somehow I’m exhilarated. Devastating that exercise can actually make you feel this good.
I spread my towel out and lie back. I take deep breaths, willing my heart rate to slow. I shift, nudging the sharp rocks underneath me into a more comfortable arrangement, so I can warm my body under the late afternoon sun.
Okay. I can do this. I can be this sweet, sunshine-y version of myself. I can act like I’m falling for Isa, even if I do think he’s kind of a dick. I can play nice with Sue-Ellen, no matter how much she tests me.
A bubble of doubt starts to rise to the surface, but I push it back down. A worry about my mother starts to nag at me, but I chase it away. An image of Isa and Sue-Ellen together appears, but I force it out of my head.
And then I hear the faint ringing of a bell. Time to do this.