Author's Note:
*** THIS IS AN OLD VERSION OF THE STORY ***
The story is now complete in one stand alone volume, and is up on my author profile. I made some additions to the events within this original Part 1 before taking it forward, so if you'd like to read it, I recommend you go there. This version is still here simply as a look back at how my writing has changed over the years, and to preserve the comments.
Stargazing
Part 1
The directors had painted a nice, orderly picture during counselor orientation week of how camper arrivals day would go. Everything would be fine as long as everybody followed the process. All we counselors had to do was act as guides for the arriving campers and their parents. First, check them in at the office in The Lodge, then health check at The Infirmary, then take them up to the cabin and help them unpack their bags. Always be accommodating to the parents -- but suggest firmly that this was the time to say goodbye to their kids. Finally, keep the campers occupied until everybody had arrived. Easy. The steps even formed a neat, orderly loop on the map.
They neglected to mention that it was actually complete chaos. Campers didn't arrive in a nice, even stream. They clumped together. My co-counselor Alexis and I had nothing to do until lunch, then we were suddenly overwhelmed as five campers in our cabin all came at once.
We were placed in Cabin 2, the second youngest age group. These were girls young enough to have infinite energy, but who had mostly been at camp a year already and were bursting with excitement unrestrained by nervousness. They dashed around us, running away to hug all their friends, wanting nothing to do with waiting in line for the nurse and everything to do with having fun.
This arrivals process designed around holding campers still as soon as they got out of the car might not have been the wisest thing in the world.
I thought that the unpacking part would be easy because parents would want to organize their kids' beds and lockers to make sure they were neat at least once during the summer. It couldn't be that much stuff. After all, how much can 10-year-olds pack? If left to their own devices, they'd probably have just come with the clothes on their backs. However, in today's age of helicopter parenting? Every one of them had two tons of bags each.
Of course, it simply wouldn't do to have their parents labor to carry it all up the hill. Alexis and I were straining and sweating under bag after bag while trying to keep up enthusiastic conversation, get to know our campers, and reassure their parents that we weren't crazy people.
I loved it! It kept me so busy that I barely thought about Sarah all day, which was the whole point of taking this job in the first place. To force myself to stop agonizing over her. To give myself the time and space to untangle the confused knot of feelings I had for my straight best friend and not let my stupid heart destroy the best friendship I'd ever had.
It had seemed like a straightforward enough plan. I'd never gone to a summer camp before, but I'd always enjoyed sports and hiking, and I got along well with kids. How hard could it be?
That confidence didn't even make it all the way through arrivals day. It was crushed by Lillian's parents, who took Alexis and I aside as they were leaving. "We know she can be a handful sometimes, but she's really sweet once you get to know her." Her father shook both of our hands and I felt him leave something behind. "We hope you have an amazing summer, and we're sorry."
Then they left!
Alexis and I looked, dumbfounded, at the hundred-dollar bills in our palms. "We're sorry? What the hell does that mean!?" We both turned to look at Lillian, who was sitting calmly on her bed smiling back at us. That wasn't the smile of a 10-year-old. It was a smile that seemed to have 'hail Satan' written all over it.
Fortunately, our other campers didn't seem like devil spawn. They were cute, if a bit exhaustingly energetic. Once we got them unpacked and their parents left, we sent them off to play soccer with the rest of the arrivals. Watching from a distance while trying to catch my breath before going to start the process again, it looked more like a mad dash to tackle whoever had the ball than any kind of organized sport. There were at least 60 kids going at it, yelling and laughing hysterically, neither knowing nor caring who was on what team or which goal they were meant to be trying to score on.
I tried to pick mine out of the throng. The one with golden blond hair done up in pigtails was Nora and the tiny mouse of a girl sprinting to keep up with her was Kim. Another of mine, I was pretty sure she was the one wearing the Taylor Swift shirt, was also named Alexis. We'd have to get a nickname for her soon. Following the trend of terrible music fans, Bonnie had One Direction's faces printed across her t-shirt.
Note to self: no campers allowed to play DJ in the cabin.
There would be twelve of them all together once they were all here. I'd read a few advice guides before coming, and they varied wildly. Some people claimed that young children were like wild animals, and you needed to establish yourself as the alpha on day 1 or it would be too late. Others said that you should befriend them and gently guide them along the path you wanted. Counselor orientation week had been similarly confusing, seeming to say both of those things at once. Alexis -- co-counselor Alexis, damn, that was already mixing me up! -- and I had decided to divide the roles. I'd be good cop friend; she'd be bad cop disciplinarian.
One thing everybody did agree on, though, is that children love being read stories. No matter how old they are or how much they claim to be too cool for that, they all enjoy it. When we finally got them settled down that night, at least most of their teeth brushed, and into their beds, I lay out my trump card. If they promised to be quiet and well behaved, they could pick a book and I'd read it to them.
Of course, they all voted for Harry Potter. I'd brought a bunch of books -- part of me thought they would have all already read Harry Potter and would want some variety -- but I should have known better. After all, Nora had just been bragging about watching Frozen every single day for a year.
It did make it a bit easier for me because I'd grown up listening to the Jim Dale narrated audiobook version of Harry Potter. I can't match his skill with voices, but I did my best to make Harry sound heroic and The Dursleys sound like selfish pigs. Before I had to figure out how to drop my voice low enough to play Hagrid, I realized that my audience was all asleep. Even Alexis was out cold, snoring louder than all our campers put together.
I smiled and sighed, tiredly. It was early by the standards of the rest of the world, but camp has its own timetable, and I was bone weary. Being surrounded by people constantly for all of orientation week plus today's constant activity was tiring work for an introvert like me! I wasn't used to having to be socially 'on' constantly. It was seriously draining.
Sarah would love it here. She was the extrovert who thrived on people. She'd have such a blast swimming in the lake, throwing Frisbees and belting out lyrics to Let it Go with the campers. For the thousandth time, I felt my heart cry a little, wishing my best friend were here.
Except, that wasn't really what I wanted. What I really wanted was for Sarah to be here and for her to magically be just as gay as me.
I stepped out of the cabin onto the porch. It was a dark, mostly overcast night -- perfect for solitary introspective self-loathing. For the thousandth time, I shoved my emotions down. I'd finally gotten some space to decompress, and that's the first place my mind went? Down that same depressing track of self-torture? It made me feel so pathetic.
It would probably have been easier if I wasn't so used to her company. If I wasn't conditioned to remember all the funny and interesting things from my day so I could share them with her later. If she wasn't such a great listener and she didn't make me feel special just by caring about me. If her hair wasn't so soft and caressable, her lips didn't look so cute and kissable, her--
"That was amazing." A soft voice in the darkness made me jump a foot in the air! "Quiet!" The voice whispered, stifling a laugh, "You'll wake them up after all that effort getting them to sleep."
When my heart stopped beating itself out of my chest, I realized there was a darker shadow sitting on the porch railing. "I -- uh -- I didn't see you there," I said, embarrassed.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It's Jess, if you can't see me."
Jessica was one of the veteran counselors I hadn't gotten to know much yet. She had seemed friendly, but there was a constant group surrounding her, and I was a little intimidated by the way all the returning counselors looked at her. We were both regular cabin counselors, but she'd been coming to camp for years, and the veteran staff seemed to respect what she said more than they listened to the actual head counselors and directors.
"Leah," I said, trying to muster up the energy to sound friendly while keeping my voice low. "It's nice to finally meet you. So... what brings you to my porch tonight?"
"They sent me and a few other senior counselors to see if you guys in junior camp needed any help with bedtime. You were fantastic in there and I didn't want to disturb it. Are you sure you've never done this before?"
There were two sections of campers broken up by ages: juniors and seniors. The seniors got to stay up a bit later than the juniors. That's what she meant by senior counselor -- that she was with the older age group, not that she was higher ranked.
"Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."
She seemed amused by that. "They hold me up as this pillar of experience, but I can't do the babies for shit. They walk all over me. Getting them to bed on time is seriously impressive. Honestly, I have no idea what I would have contributed if you didn't already have them under control."
