Edge of Eighteen: A Slow Burn Summer Camp Love Story

by Melinda Hazen

  I was dreading the next hour and knew I had to do the most heartbreaking thing of my life. A lump formed in my throat at the thought of leaving Devin and not knowing if I’d see him again. Sex wasn’t just a birthday present, was it? Then I reminded myself that he’d said he wouldn’t make love to me unless we were in a committed relationship. Are we in one now? I wanted to know.

  It wasn’t until we were done cleaning that I finally saw him. He was carrying a duffel bag and looked like he was headed to his car. He wouldn’t leave before saying goodbye, right? No. He wouldn’t after last night. We spent the last hour of the dance lying on our bunk, kissing—each of us pleasuring the other with our hands to reach another orgasm. When it was time to get back to our cabins for bed, Devin had said, “I love you, Dahlia.”

  But just in case, I decided to run after him. I caught up to him just as he shut the back of his dark green jeep and turned around, looking surprised to see me. Devin smiled, and the small sign made me feel relieved.

  “Hey,” I said. I’d packed his sweatshirt, sweatpants, shirt, socks, and scarf to take home with me since he’d never asked for any of them back.

  “Dahlia,” he replied, nodding at me.

  “You wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, would you?”

  Devin laughed. “Never.”

  I started to hand him back his music player and accessories, but he put his hand up to decline.

  He said, “You willed your heart to me—thank you for that. I don’t have anything special to leave to you. So, I’m willing that to you,” then nodded at the player, “if you want it.”

  I nodded, smiled, and moved to hug him. His hand brushed through my hair, probably for the last time.

  “You’re trembling.” He noticed.

  “I don’t want to say goodbye,” I said, feeling a lump in my throat and tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

  Devin pulled away from my embrace to see my face but kept his arms around me. “It’s not goodbye.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. I was surprised to see his name tag. He put it around my neck. “Someone once told me she wanted this,” he lightly teased.

  Devin looked around, then quickly kissed my lips. We let go, against my wishes, and he went to the driver’s side and got in. I stood there and watched as he drove away.

  Part

  Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  September

  Rebekah Hatman. I stared at my original birth certificate, which I’d carefully removed from the envelope, almost in disbelief it was real. Right there in bold letters, I was staring at my birth mother’s name. She hadn’t filled out the form to keep her identity concealed. Feelings of fear, anxiety, and excitement began bubbling inside me.

  “Lauren,” I yelled through her closed bedroom door. We’d been living in our apartment for three weeks and begun our classes two days ago. “Get out here. It came.”

  She immediately opened the door, eyes wide, and followed me to my room. I handed her my birth certificate, then sat down at my desk and opened my laptop.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Rebekah. With a k. Rebekah Hatman.”

  “Rebekah with a k,” she repeated.

  Lauren hovered over my shoulder, watching while I rapidly clicked on the keys and searched online. It didn’t seem possible to have found her so easily. We stared at the Facebook page of who I assumed was my birth mother.

  “Is that her?” Lauren asked.

  We looked at each other, then back at the screen. I was holding my breath and let it out slowly. “I think so. Rebekah Hatman Beck. I’m assuming Beck is her married name.”

  “Rebekah Beck? Seriously?” She didn’t sound enthused over her name.

  “Yeah. You can’t help what your married name becomes.”

  “Becky Beck. Beck for short.” Lauren giggled. “Hey, why’s her profile pic of a young girl? She’s too young.”

  If I hadn’t been as thrilled as I was, I would have told Lauren how dumb she was. “That’s probably her daughter.” I glanced to see Lauren’s reaction.

  “Oh, right.” She grabbed my shoulder and startled me. “You have a sister,” she exclaimed.

  “Maybe. She looks to be about ten.”

  “Let me see.” Lauren leaned in toward the screen to check out the photo of my supposed sister. “She has long, straight hair like you, but her skin is lighter. And looks like possibly blue eyes. It’s hard to tell in this. But I think she might look a little like you. Click on her photos.”

  “Okay.” Quickly, I tapped on the photos tab. Disappointed, I said, “Only three profile photos, and they’re all of this girl.”

  “Yeah…”

  I clicked on a few more things when I noticed Rebekah’s profile had her date of birth, and it matched the one on my birth certificate. She’d also listed an email address. This made me smile. Why would my birth mom show her maiden name, her birthday, and her email address for anyone to see on her page? Because the records were opened in our state, and she was helping me to find her. I had to believe that.

  I tapped the screen to show Lauren. “I think my birth mom is going to hear from her other daughter tonight.”

  “This is so exciting.” She turned her attention from the computer and looked at me. “Well, I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I’m guessing still no word from Devin?”

  The mention of his name made my heart quicken. Missing him was an understatement. I’d buried myself in preparing for school and the arrival of my original birth certificate to distract myself. But he was the only person on the planet who could take priority over finding my birth mom.

  “No. You’d think he would’ve had the respect to tell me a relationship with me couldn’t work. Instead, I feel lied to.” I opened my desk drawer and pulled out a box I’d thrown all my camp items into for a scrapbook I’d eventually make. To make things worse, I didn’t even have a photo of him to have for a memory of our time together. “Just before he drove off he told me he loved me. So, I figured he’d call me using the handout they gave us on the last day—the list with everyone’s personal info to stay in touch.”

  “Yeah, he has no excuse.”

  “Well, that’s what I thought until I decided to look at my information on the handout yesterday. It’s not there. And neither is yours.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked and furrowed her brows.

  “For some reason, that stupid director didn’t put on the camp handout the info for any of the six of us who arrived together late.”

  “Wow…” She shook her head. “Well, wasn’t his info on the handout?”

  “Yeah. But only email addresses were given for the counselors. They probably don’t want us texting and bugging them. I was too depressed to tell you this, but when I hadn’t heard from him after several weeks, I sent him one. It bounced back. The address must’ve had a typo.”

  “Wow. That’s really bad luck. What about his social media?” she asked.

  “He isn’t the type to care about that stuff. But I searched for him anyway, and he doesn’t appear to have any accounts. It was easier to find my birth mom today in one minute. In fact, it’d be easier to find any missing person from the last twenty years than to find Devin Connell.”

  “Don’t give up yet. Where does he live?”

  “I don’t know. He could live with his mom. I already looked up his last name and tried to guess which one might be her. There wasn’t anyone obvious in the list of people with his last name. His parents are divorced. Maybe she uses her maiden name. Besides, he never said he lived in Seattle. He’s attending UW, like us, but he’s not listed in the student directory, of course.”

  “You don’t want to call them all and see if any are his mom?”

  “And say what? Hi, Ms. Connell. I’m looking for your son, with whom I had sex this summer against the camp rules. I’m legal now, and I’d like to get in touch with him so we might have sex again.”

  Lauren looked like she was tr
ying to hold back an insult. “Okay… Where else might he live?”

  I sighed. “Maybe an apartment with roommates. He never said. His grandparents pay for his education—so, for all I know, he lives with them.”

  “Know much about him? Sorry, ignore me. Do you know his major? Or where he works?”

  My mind began racing. Lauren was onto something. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner? I know where he works part time.”

  “How?”

  I got up and began pacing the room, feeling anxious. “Devin told me he teaches CPR through the Red Cross. On Thursdays.” We exchanged looks.

  Lauren began searching on her phone. I peered over her shoulder. She looked up Red Cross CPR classes in Seattle. And just like that, we saw where the class was being held the next night from 6 to 9 p.m.

  She showed me the address and said, “Time for you to go learn to save a life. But in the meantime, take care of the email to Rebekah.”

  ***

  I arrived early to Devin’s CPR class and parked my car so I had a view of the entrance. I thought he may or may not teach there anymore, and I didn’t want to waste my time waiting three hours for the class to end and he not show. At least I knew he drove a green jeep.

  I wondered if I should rehearse what I wanted to say. Or just let the words come to me after seeing his reaction to me. I could ask him if he wanted to have sex with me again and smiled at the memory.

  On my other major life topic, I hadn’t heard any notification sound on my phone to alert me of any new emails. I’d sent off an email of my own to Rebekah late last night. It had taken me two hours to write. She was probably in shock and needed time to gather her thoughts.

  I glanced back at the entrance and noticed a green jeep had just pulled up by it. Someone emerged from the driver’s seat and got out. His long, brown hair quickly gave away his identity. I gasped, and my phone slipped off my lap onto the floorboard. But I didn’t dare move to pick it up. Devin grabbed some gear from his back seat, then locked the door and headed to the entrance. I debated getting out and getting it over with, but I knew he needed to teach his class. Our reunion would have to wait. In the meantime, my eyes remained on him until he was safe inside and could no longer be seen.

  Then I could pick up my phone. I reached down, grabbed it, then turned on the camera and impulsively took a photo of his jeep. Not like I’d need it or anything, but I felt compelled to do it. Wish I’d taken one of him when I’d had the chance. Then I had to face the facts: I’d officially become a stalker. It was like I was starring in a Lifetime movie where the adoptee is following people around, except I wasn’t planning to murder anyone.

  All I could do now was wait three torturous hours for his class to be over. So, I opened up a game app and began occupying my time—almost distracting myself from Rebekah and Devin.

  By 9 p.m., I set my phone down and prepared to get out of the car. Students, presumably from Devin’s class, began exiting the building. My heart began beating faster because I knew we were going to see each other for the first time in two months.

  Maybe ten people left before a long lag. I pictured Devin gathering up all of his gear and alone in whatever room was used for the class. Should I wait by your jeep or go inside?

  After locking the car door, I crossed the empty parking lot. Then I opened the door to the building and headed inside. There was a reception desk but no one there. The hallway went to the left and the right. I thought how ironic it’d be if I went left, and Devin came around the right and drove off, never to know I was there.

  I decided to go to the right and realized it was a small building with only one room available to use as a classroom. The door was open. In two more seconds, I was going to be entering the room and possibly be face to face with Devin.

  Stepping through the doorway, I saw him at the front of the room, crouching to put the CPR dummies back into the black bags he’d carried in earlier. He was zipping up the last one while I spied from the back of the room. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed me come in. I debated calling his name out but ended up not doing it.

  Devin stood up and swung the bag over his arm, then turned and was facing me. His body halted, his eyes meeting mine, and he looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

  “Dahlia,” he said almost inaudibly. But he made no move to walk over to me.

  Speak. “Hi. I—uh, hadn’t heard from you.” I paused to clear my throat. “And I wanted to know if you were okay.” I whispered the last few words and wasn’t sure if he’d heard me.

  He held my gaze for a few seconds before replying, “I’m okay. How are you?”

  Not good. I haven’t been good at all. “I’m fine.”

  He nodded. It wasn’t going the way I wanted at all. I didn’t want to be standing at the back of the room of a CPR class. No, I wanted to be in his arms—and all night.

  “I assume you’re not here for the class? But if you are, it ended ten minutes ago.” He smiled.

  “No.” I shook my head. “No. I…” I looked away, breathing too heavily, then looked back at him. He was still waiting for me to finish my thoughts. So, I forced myself to finish the sentence I’d begun. “I wondered, if you have nothing better to do, if you might follow me back to my apartment. And… we have sex again?” I smiled, mostly from embarrassment.

  Devin nodded, dropped the bag, not seeming to care if something inside it were fragile, returned the smile to me, and put his arms out. This was my cue. Without second-guessing myself or what his intentions were, I ran across the room and jumped into his arms. He easily caught me, and my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. I took hold of his face, and we kissed breathlessly and without letting go. His lips felt and tasted the same.

  I don’t know how much time passed, but Devin eventually helped me off of him and to stand again. We hugged, and I thought I might cry. When he let go of me, he touched my face and smiled like he couldn’t believe it was really me.

  “Why don’t you give me your address, and I’ll meet you there?”

  “Oh,” I said, not understanding why he didn’t want to just follow me. “Um. Okay.”

  He must have realized by my hesitation that I didn’t understand his reason. “I can’t give you that request unless I first stop off at a drugstore. I don’t carry those on me.”

  ***

  An hour later, Devin was seated on my living room couch. I was getting him a glass of water when Lauren entered the kitchen with an overnight bag over her shoulder. I’d already called her and told her what was going on. She’d offered to give us some privacy and, to do that, was going to a guy friend’s house to watch a movie and sleep over.

  “Is he in the living room?” she whispered.

  I grinned. “Uh-huh.”

  She turned and looked at the open doorway into the living room on the other side of the kitchen. Before I could stop her, she headed into the living room. Quickly, I grabbed Devin’s glass of water and hurried after her.

  “Devin,” Lauren said, greeting Devin, who had now stood up.

  “Hi, Lauren.”

  “How nice to see you here. I’d stay and visit, except I have a movie date waiting for me.” She looked at me with a big grin, then back at Devin.

  “Well, it was nice to see you again,” Devin said politely.

  “Must be exciting to see Dahlia away from camp. You two will finally get the privacy you deserve. Bye.”

  Before either of us could react, Lauren left the apartment. We heard the key in the door lock. Awkwardly, I handed Devin the water.

  “She’s so blunt,” I said.

  “Yeah. Maybe I should have handed her the condoms to leave on the bed for us.”

  I giggled because I’d been thinking about sex in the back of my mind ever since the reunion earlier tonight and wondered how to bring up the subject again.

  Devin took a sip of water, then set the glass on the coffee table. He looked at me, and we both grinned.

  “Would you like to see my bedroom?” This sugges
tion would at least get us to the right room.

  Devin looked off toward the hallway, then back at me and nodded. “Okay,” he said barely above a whisper.

  So, I stood up and had him follow me to my bedroom. Once we entered the room, I got comfortable on my bed, against the pillows. Devin sat down on the foot of the bed and looked around the room.

  I pointed to the desk, which was across from the bed, and explained what was on it. “That’s the box I keep all my items from camp in. Like the bracelet you made me. And the poems and notes.”

  “Really?” He glanced at the desk, then looked at me. “You kept everything?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Do you still have my name tag?”

  “Of course. Is there a reason I wouldn’t keep it?”

  Devin looked puzzled. “I assumed you threw it away. When you showed up tonight—I figured you’d tossed it right after you got home.”

  Now I didn’t understand what he was talking about. “Never. I loved that you gave it to me. Why would you think I threw it away because I showed up tonight? And I want to know why haven’t you tried to contact me. I sent you an email. It bounced.”

  Devin got off the bed and walked over to my desk. He rifled through the stuff and pulled out his name tag. After inspecting it, he turned to face me. “My email was printed wrong, unfortunately.”

  “Then why didn’t you try harder to find me, knowing I couldn’t contact you?”

  “Because I didn’t think I needed to.” He held the name tag up for me. “I was waiting to hear from you. I wondered why you hadn’t called me yet. And think I’ve figured it out.”

  I glanced at it, then back at his face, wondering if he’d heard anything I’d said. Shaking my head I said, “Call you? How? I don’t have a number for you. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me again or something.” I looked down.

  “Dahlia,” he called gently to me, “I wanted you to call me.”

  I looked up again. When our eyes locked, Devin then tossed his name tag onto the bed for me. I picked it up, then looked at him, still confused.