Edge of Eighteen: A Slow Burn Summer Camp Love Story

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Edge of Eighteen: A Slow Burn Summer Camp Love Story Page 6

by Melinda Hazen


  Devin shook his head. “I wasn’t sure what to think.”

  I swallowed loudly. “Well… the thing is I’m not even sure if I’m in favor of adoption. Maybe my birth mom should’ve kept me. I’m her child, regardless. I really don’t know,” I mumbled.

  When I glanced at Devin, he looked confused. “Not everyone wants their baby, Dahlia,” he said softly, like he had to inform me of this harsh reality.

  “Maybe. Or maybe women are coerced to give their babies away. Either way, I feel like she abandoned me.”

  Devin stared at me and looked like he was really thinking about my words. “Hmm. You think a woman should choose to keep her baby no matter her circumstances?”

  I didn’t respond right away. I wanted Devin to like me, so I felt conflicted about being honest if it meant we’d disagree. When I saw he was gazing at me, I finally nodded.

  “Oh,” he said almost inaudibly. Then he hung his head so I could no longer see his face.

  I cleared my throat to say more. “I wish adoptees didn’t have to have an amended birth certificate with our names changed—a lie. If you can know where you come from and your birth family name, then why can’t I?”

  “It sounds like you can by the end of the summer,” he reminded me as he looked up, but his tone was flat.

  “Did you have to wait until you were eighteen to know who you came from?” My bluntness must have hit a nerve, because Devin looked away.

  And then we lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, making me wonder if he had a problem with adopted kids. The conversation was getting too deep. I needed to change subjects so he wouldn’t kick me out of his cabin.

  “I’m sorry. This probably isn’t interesting to someone who isn’t affected by adoption.” I sighed before looking down. Things had been going so well, too. I was just so passionate about the topic I couldn’t stop myself. We should’ve stuck to music. I attempted a smile and said, “Do you want to show me another song?”

  But Devin made no move to get his phone. Instead, he sat very still, holding my gaze, and said, “Dahlia.” His voice was gentle. “Never be sorry for talking about something that matters to you.”

  I responded only with a nod. His words were very sweet and mature.

  He turned to look out the window and fidgeted with his hair. Then he looked back at me. “What if you get your original birth certificate with her name on it, and you find her, but she doesn’t want contact? Are you okay with only the knowledge of your birth name?”

  I didn’t realize he wanted to continue this discussion. “Not really. I want to know her. I’ve waited all my life to.”

  “What do you want to know exactly?” he asked softly.

  Now feeling like it was okay to be completely honest with Devin, I replied, “I want to know my story. And I’d like to know who I look like. If you’re not adopted, then you don’t understand that. I have a younger brother, and he’s adopted, too. I look like no one.”

  Devin nodded slowly. “I guess I never considered that perspective.”

  Water was still dripping from my hair, so I held the towel against it again. Then I looked straight at him and said, “Why would you? You already know who you look like. You have no reason to be curious about that.”

  Devin rubbed along his sideburn. “You’re right. I do look like my family. It never occurred to me that someone adopted would care this much to know unless their adoptive family mistreated them.”

  I shook my head. “No. I guarantee you that even with people who think their adoptive family is great, many are still curious. Sometimes adoptees are afraid to admit this because they don’t want to hurt their adoptive parents.”

  “I could see that being an issue—not wanting to upset them. What’s the solution, then? Hurt your adoptive parents or not find your mom? Who do you choose?”

  I smiled. “Why must I choose? I have to share my parents with my brother. They don’t love him more than me. So, why can’t I have more than one set of parents to love me? How is that a threat to my adoptive parents? Isn’t it better to have more to love you? And I have a right to know my parents. It’s my birthright.”

  Devin continued to stare at me. “I’ve got to be honest. I’ve never heard this viewpoint before. What else bothers you about being adopted?”

  I was quiet for maybe another minute, thinking, then I said, “I’ve never told anyone this, but my parents have decided for me how I feel. But they don’t know. They’ve never asked me.”

  “What do you mean?” He stared, waiting for my response.

  “I’m labeled a happy and well-adjusted adopted kid. By everyone. But they don’t know how I really feel. Only I do.”

  He licked his lips. “Then I’m asking. How do you feel?” His tone was sympathetic, and his face had softened some. He was showing more interest in this topic than anyone else ever had with me.

  “Um. It’s hard to say. I feel inadequate most of the time—like I don’t measure up to my friends. Like with Lauren.”

  He made a funny face. “You think Lauren is better than you? Really?”

  I nodded to show him I certainly believed it. “It’s not like I’m worried that my parents wouldn’t want me, but sometimes I feel like I have to earn their love—like it’s not just a given.”

  “You do?” Devin sounded surprised.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “Maybe I don’t see the big deal because I haven’t seen my dad in eight years.” He announced it bluntly. His body language and mood seemed different after the mention of his dad. Now I sensed there was some pain behind his words.

  “Where is he?” Then I wondered if I’d made a mistake asking him that since it wasn’t really any of my business.

  Devin paused and looked up at the ceiling. He sighed, then looked back at me. “Last time I asked my mom about him he was living in Florida with his girlfriend.” He looked out the window again. “That was five years ago. They could be married now.” He looked down at his arm and tugged on a string hanging from his shirt. “He could be dead.” He shrugged.

  I couldn’t believe Devin was opening up to me like this. “Do you miss him?”

  He didn’t look up but continued to pull the loose thread from the end of his sleeve. “I used to. Guess I don’t think about it anymore. I have my mom and my little brother. And I look like my mom, not him. So, the idea of not knowing who I look like doesn’t really apply.”

  I hesitated, then decided to say more. “That’s not true. You don’t know how you’d feel if you’d never met your dad and didn’t know who you looked like. You knew him even if he went away. And maybe he’ll be back in your life again someday.”

  “Perhaps. Not sure if I’d care, though.” He’d sounded indifferent.

  “He probably thinks about you,” I said.

  Devin laughed sarcastically, then said, “I’m not sure how important it is to have a dad around.”

  It made me sad he felt this way. Life was really unfair to kids. Hearing Devin’s story made me realize maybe I could make a difference in a child’s life if I did go into social work.

  “What would you do if your dad wanted to know you again?”

  He looked off as if thinking about what he’d do. He looked at me again and said, “I don’t know. I never think about this. I guess I’d let him.”

  “I think you would, too. He’d be really proud of you.”

  Devin scoffed. “That’s doubtful.”

  He startled me and got off the desk. He stood in front of the window with his hands on his hips. I wondered what I’d said that affected him like this. Finally, he turned back to me. “I want to know something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Will you be upset with her when you learn of her reasons for giving you up?”

  That was a good question. Would her reasons upset me?

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so, but I do want to know why.”

  Devin nodded. “Do you want to meet yo
ur dad? Or just your mom?”

  “I guess both. Maybe he’s darker skinned like me. I won’t know until I see them.”

  “You think you’re darker? Than me?”

  When I looked at him, Devin smiled mischievously. Not really a fair question considering he spent a lot of his days in the sun as a lifeguard.

  “Definitely. I look tan all year.” Got you beat there.

  “Ah. Well, your coloring is nice whether it lasts all year or not.”

  His comment left me speechless. How much of me had he noticed? Only my skin color?

  Devin spoke again. “Well, Dahlia, I hope by fall you have your answers.”

  His response put a smile on my face. But when I looked at him, he seemed distracted. He walked to the door and opened it to look out. It was only drizzling. He turned to look at me. “We should go now so we avoid any trouble. We can use my umbrella, and I’ll walk you back to your activity.”

  This was my cue to get up, although I would have stayed in the cabin all day with him. I grabbed my drenched clothes. “I’ll change quickly.”

  He shook his head. “Your clothes are still wet. Keep it on. You’ll need it.”

  Devin bent down and picked up an umbrella lying on the floor and opened it. He stepped outside and motioned for me to join him, so I walked over to him and got under the umbrella. He shut the cabin door behind us. Then we started walking across the craft cabin deck.

  “Where are we headed, Dahlia?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  I wanted to tell him I’d go wherever he was going but knew I couldn’t do that. “I should probably drop off my wet clothes at the cabin.”

  While we walked up the hill toward my cabin, we didn’t speak. I was still processing that Devin was escorting me to my cabin. And I wondered what it’d be like to hold his hand. But sooner than I would’ve liked, we arrived and stopped just outside the door. We turned toward each other.

  “Thanks for walking me here,” I said. “And for the sweatshirt.”

  Our eyes met and locked. This was the closest view I’d had of his face yet. I liked gazing at him, and now I liked talking with him. There was no doubt I liked Devin. More than Luke. More than I should.

  And then he smiled. “I teach through the Red Cross on Thursday nights.”

  At first, I was confused. Then I realized Devin was answering my earlier question about his CPR class, which he’d originally ignored. OMG.

  Feeling moved by our conversations and touched by his gentleness toward me, I impulsively hugged him. He didn’t stop me but placed his hand on my back to return the hug. When he pulled away, I gazed into his eyes. If only he were allowed to kiss me. And for one brief second, by the way he was locking eyes with mine, I thought he was considering it.

  Then Caroline opened the door, interrupting us, and Devin took a step away from me in a guilty way. She glanced at me, then at Devin. She noticed I was holding my wet clothes and wearing his hoodie.

  “Bye, Dahlia,” he said, then turned to walk down the stairs. It was an abrupt goodbye, and I knew why he had to do it. But my heart didn’t like it.

  Caroline waited for me to explain myself. Instead, I smiled and said, “You’re right. He is nice.” Then I bolted inside the cabin before she could say a word.

  Chapter Six

  Lauren set her dinner tray down beside me. I was about to say something to her when someone dropped a handmade pink and blue (my favorite colors) necklace onto the table in front of me and walked away. It was so well made that I knew a girl had me for her secret pal. No guy would have been so meticulous.

  After I slipped the necklace on, I glanced around the dining hall to see who might be watching, for a clue as to who had me. Instantly, my eyes found Devin’s, and I saw him look at what was hanging around my neck. His eyes shifted and locked with mine, but he didn’t smile. We stared at each other. Then he glanced at something and quickly looked away, so I looked to see what had his attention. The only person looking right at me was Caroline. We’d been caught. I quickly looked down at my dinner.

  I attempted to get him to look at me again. And when he finally looked my way, I casually waved. His wrist was against the table, but I saw his fingers wave at me. He smiled, then looked away. It felt like all the air had left my lungs, and I needed air because this interaction between us was that exciting to me.

  When we were excused from the dining hall, I noticed a girl get up and walk alongside Devin. Maybe Devin had spent time talking to her, too.

  Once I was out of the building, I saw Devin and the other camper standing just outside the door. She removed his name tag from around his neck and put it around hers. He didn’t even try to stop her. Then she hugged him with a giggle.

  My heart was pounding, and I felt so envious that she had his name tag. I wanted to tell her to give it back or let me have it instead. Now I was upset. And I didn’t even attempt to hide it as I walked past Devin without looking his direction.

  “Dahlia,” he called once I’d passed by.

  Showing no self-control, I turned back to see what he wanted.

  He smiled and said, “You haven’t said hi to me today.”

  Devin waited to see what I’d do. The thing was, neither of us had said hi today. The discreet wave was all there was. Hugging the counselors daily was normal around here. In other words, I could hug him, and it wouldn’t be made into a big deal—not in this setting. Except I knew it would be for me, and he probably knew it meant more to me than just a greeting. All because Caroline must have told him I liked him.

  “Hi,” I finally said, trying not to glare at the camper next to him sporting his name tag around her neck. At least she got the hint and walked away. I looked back at Devin, who just stood there not attempting to speak. “So, what group were you listening to today?”

  Devin looked confused.

  “You know, earlier I saw you at the craft cabin with your earphones in.”

  “Oh, right. Various ones. Nice necklace.” He looked down at my chest where the necklace dangled by my name tag. “Nice colors.”

  “Thanks. My secret pal made it for me. I’d switch it out if I had your name tag, though.” Why did I say that? Now I’d made it obvious I was envious. It also made me sound like a little kid.

  “I’ll remember that.” He tried to stifle a smile.

  Change the subject, Dahlia. “Anyway, what was the last song you listened to? Maybe I know it.”

  Devin’s lips twitched as I waited for his response. “I’m pretty sure it was ‘Play With Fire.’ And in case you don’t know, that’s the Rolling Stones.”

  I hadn’t expected to hear that title, which kind of fit our situation, and wondered if he’d made it up.

  But then he leaned into me, lowered his voice, and said, “It cautions me not to play with you.” He leaned away and deliberately smiled.

  OMG. What else did Caroline tell you? That I want sex with you?

  Without another thought, I replied, “But are you tempted to play with fire?” I couldn’t believe I’d asked him that. It was so bold of me. And possibly stupid.

  Devin’s eyes held mine, but he didn’t flinch. Slowly he nodded. “All the time.”

  We stared at each other while I tried to figure out if he was flirting back.

  “All the time,” he repeated. His voice was barely over a whisper, but I clearly heard him. He pursed his lips together, then turned and walked away.

  I was left standing there wondering what just happened. Was there a possibility Devin was interested in me, and I wasn’t imagining it?

  Suddenly, tempting Devin to play with fire was exactly what I wanted to do.

  ***

  The next day was mostly spent rehashing what Devin had said to me the day before. All activities were a blur because I couldn’t get my mind off of Devin telling me that he played with fire all the time.

  Dinner had finished an hour ago. Lauren and I were now lying on mats on the rec room floor. We’d decided to join the camp massage
s tonight. The lights were dimmed and soft, tranquil music played while the back rubs took place. This was one of the rare times we could have our hands legitimately on someone else’s body without being questioned. The first group lying on the mats got three secret back rubs, then we switched places. The group who gave back rubs first then got their turn to lie down and have their backs rubbed.

  It was intended to remain an anonymous activity, but most wanted to know who was touching their back. In some cases, it was a way to find out who liked you. The worst case scenario was if no one came to you. Then you had to wait on someone to finally get stuck with you. Last summer, I didn’t care who rubbed my back. This summer, I did.

  Luke provided my first massage, which left me completely relaxed. A camper I didn’t know did my second one. Aaron claimed me for my third. He mostly laughed while he attempted to rub my back, so I didn’t get much of a massage.

  The lights came on, and we were told to switch places. It was then I noticed Devin lying down on a mat. I didn’t even know he was participating. Now I wished he’d rubbed my back. At least he was in the group to get a massage. This was my chance to touch him without any repercussions. He couldn’t tell me no. My heart began pounding faster at the idea of touching Devin.

  As soon as the lights went out, I darted in the direction to do his massage. However, that same camper girl wearing his name tag got to him first. Disappointment settled in my heart, as I had to quickly find any guy left. Fingers snapped over the back of a leftover guy to go there.

  During the massage, I planned how to get back to Devin as fast as possible.

  “Ow,” said the guy below me.

  “Oh, sorry,” I whispered. I must have been taking out my frustrations at the camper massaging Devin’s back on this guy.

  When the massage was over, I leaped up and moved swiftly in the direction where Devin was, but another girl took over his back. Freaking unbelievable. Then it dawned on me to grab the guy next to Devin so I was only one person away for the last back rub. And conveniently, it was Luke. Now it wouldn’t appear suspicious that I was right next to Devin.

 

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