Olivia
Chapter thirty-two
As campers arrive for this last week of summer at Camp Prairie Star, the air feels different.
It’s still as hot and humid as it was yesterday, but the breeze is tinged with something new.
A heaviness, but also a hope. Finality and expectation rolled together and waiting for me over the horizon line.
I feel the change in the air most whenever I see Gage. He’s been different, too, starting from my birthday date on Saturday.
While he’s always affectionate—never missing a chance to hold my hand or touch me in some small way—he’s been clingier. He’s velcroed to my side, as if he’s afraid to let me out of his sight.
He has to, of course, to do his job and for me to do mine, but throughout the week, he’s at the lake whenever he can be—with or without his campers. At meals, he seeks me out, leaving Jayden to deal with the food-induced hyperactivity at their cabin’s table.
It’s like he’s done with camp but doesn’t want to be done with me.
Actually, I’m certain that’s exactly how he’s feeling. If someone gave me three guesses to figure out what’s on Gage’s mind, I’d only need the first.
He’s in love with me.
The good news is I’m also in love with him, and with every hour I become more certain that we could be a real couple.
We haven’t talked about any of this yet, but I’m sure Gage can tell how I’m feeling like I can read him.
We’ve been amazing together this summer, with no shortage of things to talk about. He doesn’t act like my opinions are stupid. He’s never come close to suggesting that I’m stupid. He listens to what I have to say, and more than that, he wants to hear it.
Maybe it’s not ridiculous to think he could see me as an equal partner. Obviously, the disparity is there, but maybe if it doesn’t bother him, I shouldn’t let it bother me.
Especially now that my future is looking so much brighter.
I’m going to be a teacher, of all things, as soon as I can get a job.
I’m antsy that I haven’t heard back from Virtus Academy.
It’s been weeks since I submitted applications to both Virtus and Brightline.
While either position would be amazing, I have to admit I have my heart set on Virtus.
It’s close to my parents’ house, for one, which means it’s also close to Gage’s parents’ house where he’ll be living starting this weekend.
I decide to call Virtus on Thursday when I’m in between groups of campers to check up on my job application.
I slip into the empty boathouse and lean against the wall as I dial.
The phone rings twice before a woman picks up. “Virtus Academy Austin. How may I direct your call?”
“Um, hi, yeah.” Not a great start. I clear my throat. “I recently applied for the physical education teacher position for this upcoming school year, and I wanted to check on the status of that search, please.”
“One moment, please.” Classical music plays over the phone line while I assume I’m being transferred to whoever is in charge of hiring.
A man’s voice finally comes on the line. “Hello, this is Dr. Haught, headmaster of Virtus Academy Austin.”
I’m not sure if it’s the snooty voice or the showy title, but I immediately picture Headmaster Charleston from the fancy private school Rory attends in Gilmore Girls. My sister Nicole is obsessed with the show, and I’ve watched it all the way through with her at least twice.
“Yes, hello. My name is Olivia Delaney. I recently applied for the open physical education teacher position, and I wondered about the status of that search?”
“We have started contacting the top candidates for interviews. What did you say your name is?”
“Olivia Delaney,” I repeat.
I hear the shuffle of papers before Dr. Haught speaks again. “Ah yes, I have your information here. I’m sorry to tell you Ms. Delaney that we will not be moving forward with your application.”
I feel my shoulders droop as heaviness settles into all the joints of my body. “Oh, I see. May I ask why not?” I lower myself to sit on the scratchy wooden bench that doubles as storage for the life vests.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. I wipe my sweaty palm against my shorts as I wait.
“Ms. Delaney, we at Virtus Academy Austin have high standards and expectations for our employees as well as our students. We have a specific protocol for employment applications, and we provide detailed instructions for candidates to follow to meet that protocol. You did not follow those detailed instructions when you applied.”
Yeah, the instructions were detailed all right. Three single-spaced pages of written directions that I tried my hardest to follow. “I didn’t?”
“No, Ms. Delaney. The directions clearly stated that applications should be sent as a single PDF file that includes a candidate’s letter of interest, résumé, and references all together. You sent three separate files.”
“Oh.” My lungs and heart deflate simultaneously, taking away my breath and my hope in one fell swoop.
I want to violently press the end button on the call, but Headmaster Snooty Pants is still talking.
“We simply cannot hire instructors who don’t show the commitment to excellence that we demand of our pupils, who can’t follow simple instructions. Sloppy work is not tolerated at Virtus Academy Austin.”
“I understand. Thank you,” I say, and then I hang up, but my anger has already shifted to defeat.
I can feel my pulse in my throat, a steady, empty thud, thud, thud. Hot tears well behind my eyelids as his words echo between my ears, confirming what I already know to be true. Can’t follow simple instructions. Sloppy work.
Dumb. Stupid. Illiterate.
Being the sporty, fun, cool girl worked for me in high school and college, but out here in the real world, those qualities don’t count for much.
I can’t even apply for jobs correctly, so how can I expect to be successful in them?
Warring thoughts fight for attention as the tears spring free and roll down my cheeks.
You’ll never be good enough.
You don’t want to work for that pretentious school anyway.
It’s not you, it’s them—the application process was unfair.
But loudest of all is—Gage deserves to be with someone better. Someone smarter.
I know it’s true. It was true five years ago, and it’s true now. We’ve talked about some beautiful possibilities lately—dates at the Wildflower Center and celebrating Gage and Annie’s birthday together. Possibilities for a future together back in Austin once camp is over.
But there can’t be a future beyond this summer fling for us because he deserves more than what I can offer. I lost sight of that these last few weeks, gave into hope and the sheer selfishness of what I wanted.
If nothing else, I can do the right thing by Gage this summer and set him free. The decision rolls around in my stomach, threatening to dislodge my pancake breakfast from this morning.
The sound of laughter and high-pitched voices filters through the open door of the boathouse. My next group of campers are coming down the trail for their free-swim time.
I swallow hard. I swipe my hand across my eyes and rub the tears from my cheeks. Pasting on a smile, I walk to the doorway, ready to greet the kids.
I stumble my way through the rest of Thursday and most of the day Friday. By the time Skit Night is over, and the kids are loaded into minivans and pickup trucks for their drives home, I’ve sunken so far into myself that I’ll need a ladder to get out.
Unlike on previous Friday nights, this final one is special.
All the staff stay at camp overnight to help with final cleanup on Saturday, and Linda hosts a closing campfire for us to celebrate the end of the summer.
Rob and Stephanie, the camp cooks, grill hamburgers and hot dogs, and Troy sets up a table laden with s’mores fixings.
My coworkers from the past three months are a rowdy group tonight. They sing camp songs and recount memories. No one needs the sharing stick because everyone talks over each other. Laughter is the predominant sound.
But through it all, I barely register what’s going on around me. I’m in my head.
For me, the last night of camp isn’t a celebration; it’s a death knell.
I know I need to talk to Gage. I need to put the final nail in the coffin of this summer fling, but thinking about it causes a pressure in my chest so intense that tears leak out of my eyes.
Not surprisingly, Gage hasn’t left my side all night.
He’s sitting so close he’s practically on my lap, and his arm is wrapped tightly around my shoulder.
His nearness doesn’t help me find the courage for what I have to do.
It makes me want to snuggle closer, burrow my head into his neck, and stay there for the rest of my life.
I’m sure he realizes I’m not acting like myself, so when I tell him I’m going to turn in early, he doesn’t hesitate to stand up with me.
He walks me back toward my cabin on a path through the woods, and he’s quiet. The night is all too quiet, and the quiet is what finally breaks me.
I stop in my tracks, causing Gage’s hip to bump into mine.
“Gage,” I start, my voice cracking. He must see something of what I’m about to say in my eyes, because his face goes ashen, panic flashing across it.
“Look,” I press on quickly, not stopping to think out my words or how to say them. “I don’t think we need to delay the inevitable. Camp’s done. You’re heading to school in a week—”
“In Austin,” he interrupts.
“—and I’m heading back to my parents’ house—”
“Also in Austin.”
“—and it’s … we said from the beginning what this was, we said it. It’s a situationship—”
“No, Olivia.” I pick up the agony in his voice, the desperation.
“—and the situation is changing, and so it doesn’t make sense anymore.”
“Don’t do this,” he pleads. His blue eyes look like the ocean in the fading light, dark and stormy.
“We said a summer fling. Well, summer’s over. The fling is over.”
He grabs my shoulders and holds me in front of him, the strength of his grip making me gasp. We’re facing each other. He ducks his head to look me in the eye, forcing me to look into his, swirling with pain.
“This thing between us”—he moves one hand off my shoulder to motion to himself and then to me—“was never going to be ‘just a fling’ and you know it.” He lets me go, swiping across his face with one of his sleeves.
It comes away wet, but the tears are still dripping down his cheeks.
“You know it,” he repeats, as if daring me to contradict him.
I do know it. I played with fire. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I did it anyway. And I got burned.
I hate that I took Gage down with me, but he’ll move on to someone better suited for him. He’ll be okay.
I stifle a sob, emotion clogging my throat so I can hardly breathe. I try to gulp in oxygen as I throw up my hands and shout, “I don’t know what you want me to say. This was always the plan!”
He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. He rests his forehead against mine, the warm flush of his skin lulling me into temporary defeat. I should push him away, but selfishly I’m soaking up as much of him as I can before it’s too late.
“I love you,” he says desperately, frantically. His eyes are closed, and he inhales a ragged breath, his tone softening. “I love you, Olivia,” he repeats. “This isn’t how we end. It can’t be.”
I drop his hand and step back, breaking our contact. My foot lands on a stick that cracks as loud as dynamite when it snaps in half. It feels right, sounds right. It’s the same sound as my heart breaking.
“I’m sorry.” I moan and turn away, trying to get ahead of the tears. I start running. I know Nina’s still at the fire circle, so I aim for my cabin. I burst through the door in time to collapse on the bed and sob myself to sleep.
I wake only a few hours later, the night still dark as ink outside. In a frenzied mania, I throw all my things in my duffel bag, careful not to wake Nina.
I type out a vague email to Linda about needing to leave early. By sunrise, I’m passing through the gates of Camp Prairie Star and on my way home.
As I near Austin city limits, my phone pings. It’s a text from Gage. I pull to the side of the road to read it.
Gage:
Babe, please can we talk?
I summon the meager emotional strength I have left and block his number. Then, I pull back onto the highway and keep driving.