8. 19 Years Ago
Chapter eight
Things shifted the summer when Matt and I were twelve.
“You put them on like this,” Lisa explained, holding the fake eyelashes parallel to her eye and gliding a thin line of glue onto her real eyelashes with her other hand.
She made a face that looked like she just stuck her finger in an electrical socket.
She blinked hard and pressed the strip of lashes against her own.
Then, she waved her hand frantically in front of her eye, willing the glue to dry.
She continued this motion while I watched, horrified, over the line of sinks in the girls’ washhouse.
“I don’t know, Lisa. What if the glue gets in my eyes and I go blind?”
Lisa laughed. A short girl, she had thick thighs, chubby cheeks, and the palest blue eyes of anyone in camp.
They made her face hauntingly beautiful, so it made sense that she would try to draw attention to them by testing out every ridiculous eye product one could find in a drug store.
Especially before a boy-girl dance, more commonly known at Sound Hollow as a co-ed.
I checked my own face in the mirror. My long, brown hair was streaked with blonde, courtesy of the Sun-In I sprayed in it every morning.
My summer tan masked the few pimples I’d begun contending with ever since starting my period a few months earlier.
My teeth were covered in orthodontic hardware.
I spread on some lip gloss, which was all the makeup I was capable of managing.
The bugle sounded. “Ugh!” Lisa whined. “I’m not ready!”
“I’ll go let Callie know,” I replied, shoving the lip gloss in my pocket. “But hurry up!”
I jogged out of the washhouse back to Cabin Ten. My counselor, Callie O’Donnell, was leading the other girls toward the Lodge to line up for attendance. I joined their gaggle.
“Taylor,” Callie began, rushing through a headcount. “Where’s Lisa?”
“She’ll be right here. She’s in the bathroom.”
Callie nodded as I lined up with the other girls in camp, all in their cutest outfits.
Some wore wrinkled skirts that had been hiding at the bottom of duffel bags waiting for a special occasion like this.
Others donned sundresses that, despite being pretty, smelled faintly of mildew, just like everything at camp.
I had chosen a white and purple floral tank top from Old Navy and a pair of cutoff thrift-store Levi’s.
I wore white socks pulled up to the middle of my calves under a pair of borrowed Birkenstock sandals and rounded out the ensemble with a necklace made of one single clay bead on a leather string.
I didn’t want anyone to think I was particularly interested in all this boy-girl business.
Lisa rushed down from the washhouse and joined the line just in time for the unit leader, a strict college-aged girl named Hannah, to call for Cabin Ten’s attendance. “All present and accounted for,” Callie reported.
“Great! Okay, girls, listen up!” Hannah shouted over the buzz of pre-teen, high-pitched chatter.
“We’re going to head down to the boys’ rec field for the co-ed.
When we get there, we’ll split you up into groups for activities, and then we’ll end the night with the dance.
Remember the rules: stay with your group, and don’t wander off with any boys.
Any questions?” She waited a moment. “No? All right then. Let’s get going. ”
At that, the swarming mass of hormones started down the road.
Counselors at the front of the group began leading marching songs to pass the time on the fifteen-minute walk over, but most of the girls were too busy giggling, eagerly spilling about this or that boy who they couldn’t wait to see or dance with.
Lisa and I were sandwiched in the middle of the pack. “So, you excited to see Matt?” she asked me.
“Are you crazy? I see him every day at the farm. He’s like my brother.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t the farm. This is a dance. I wonder if he’s a good dancer.”
“Ew,” I laughed. “He’s probably a total dork.”
“I may try and find out,” Lisa said, smirking.
Something happened in my stomach then, but I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly. “You’re going to dance with Matt?”
“Maybe,” Lisa shrugged. “We’ll see. I also have my eye on Ryan.”
Hard to believe she had her eye on anything, given that she almost glued it shut with those stupid eyelashes. “The soccer kid?” I asked.
“Yeah. He looks so hot in those Adidas shorts,” she swooned.
“Hot? I’ve seen him pick his nose and eat it,” I replied.
“Well then, fine! Who are you going to try to talk to?”
“I don’t know. Nobody?” I’ll probably just sit with Matt and make fun of you for flirting with anything that can move.
“Well, suit yourself. After tonight, Lisa D’Angelo will definitely have a Boy. Friend. For. Sure!” she announced, channeling her inner cheerleader.
I turned my head away and rolled my eyes.
When we arrived, we were each handed a colored card at random that represented our group assignment. I was in the purple group, thankful to not be in the green group with Lisa.
I scanned the crowd for Matt. He wasn’t purple, that was for sure.
I was joined by several of the younger kids and a few older ones.
There was no one else from my cabin in the purple group.
The only kid I knew well enough to talk to was AJ Chipouras, a kid from Matt’s cabin who took farm with us and was known for his ability to speed-shuck ears of corn, thus earning him the nickname Corn Chip.
While the kids were being corralled into groups, I spotted Matt, who held up his green card to show me. Watch out for Lisa, I thought, offering a smile.
“I’ll see you at the dance,” he mouthed. I gave him a thumbs up.
My group was taken to the first station, an awkward three-legged relay race.
I asked AJ to be my partner and he agreed.
We were a good match, being about the same height.
Once we were tied together at the knee by a bandana, AJ began calling out directions.
“Outside leg! Inside leg! Outside! Inside!” Before I knew it, we crossed the finish line, laughing, AJ’s brow covered in a light sheen of sweat.
At the next station, our group played a game where we had to pass an orange around in a circle using only our necks.
It took a lot of chest and chin strength to retrieve an orange from someone’s neck and then pass it on to the next person without dropping it.
I’d played this game before, but somehow, I felt weird playing it with a mixed group of boys I didn't know that well. The angle at which I had to approach AJ’s neck looked like the same angle one might use when going in for a kiss.
He was very good at this game too, exhibiting excellent chin control, so much so that he and I were the last pair standing at the end of the game.
For our success, we each won a piece of candy from a prize bag.
I chose Skittles, intending to share them with Matt later.
After that, our group moved to a craft station, where we were instructed to make “love bugs” out of pipe cleaners, foam hearts and googly eyes.
Once each bug was complete, a counselor used a hot glue gun to attach it to a clothespin.
We were told “Once it’s dry, you can pin the bug on your crush.
” Really? I’d rather die, thanks. The twisty-legged little bug I made would actually make a good clip to hold the stationery I used to write letters home to my mom.
AJ made a daddy long legs spider using entire pipe cleaners.
It was the size of a dinner plate when he was done.
He clipped it to the fringe on the bottom of my shorts, and I shrieked.
“Ew, AJ! Get that thing off me!”
“It’s not a real bug, you know,” he laughed.
“I know it’s not real,” I began, “but it’s huge! And super creepy!” I unclipped the bug from my shorts and tossed it on the ground.
AJ frowned, picking up his bug from the asphalt of the rec field basketball court. He stepped away. Suddenly, I felt a pang of guilt. Does this mean AJ likes me? I wondered. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
At the next station, I found a way to make it up to him.
There, we were taught to make dirt cups: a sweet treat made of crushed Oreos, chocolate pudding, whipped cream, and gummy worms. After preparing the dirt cup, I snatched a handful of gummy worms and lined the outside of my cup with them. I carried the creation over to AJ.
I extended my arm, cup in hand, offering it to him. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I made this extra wormy dirt so your bug would have some friends to hang out with.”
He smiled. “That’s dumb,” he replied.
I laughed. “Yeah, it is.”
AJ took the cup from me, plucked out a gummy worm, and bit into it. “These co-eds are dumb, too. I’d much rather be playing Color War or Capture the Flag.”
“Agreed.”
Suddenly, a roar erupted from the station where the orange-in-the-neck game was being played.
I looked over. The green group was standing in a circle and from what little I could see through the crowd, everyone was staring in the direction of Matt and Lisa.
I heard some older boy call out, “Yo, man! You don’t just leave a girl hanging like that! ”
“Yeah, kiss her back!” another boy heckled.
I moved instinctively in the direction of the yelling, hearing shouts from the counselors.
“Pipe down!” “That’s enough now.” “Amateurs.” More snickering.
I approached the circle of kids. Lisa and Matt faced each other.
She had the orange in her hand and a smug look on her face.
He looked incredulous, like a deer caught in headlights.
Callie grabbed Lisa by the wrist and pulled her out of the group, leaving Matt standing there, surrounded by people but clearly alone.
“What were you thinking?” Callie reprimanded Lisa off to the side, in the distance.