Have a Little Faith in Me

by Sonia Hartl

  Leaves whipped together as Jerome cut through a cluster of small trees. He tripped over a root and sprawled out on the ground in front of me. Probably because he hadn’t been able to see his tiny legs under his muscular upper body. He rose to his feet, his face red as he swept dirt and pine needles off his shirt.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, not really caring.

  “Yeah.” He scratched his head, like he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here. “Where’s Ethan? I thought you two were partnered up?”

  “He ditched me. Not that it matters to you.”

  “You don’t like me. Why?” Jerome took a seat on the log, and I scooted away from him.

  “Because you were shitty to Paul on the first day, and you’re bros with Ethan.”

  His face screwed up, like he’d expected me to deny it. He clearly didn’t know me very well. “That’s a reason, but just so you know, I apologized to Paul, and Ethan isn’t my bro.”

  “Sure he’s not.” I checked my nails for old polish I could scrape off. I wasn’t in the mood to make nice. “That’s why you two are always hanging out.”

  “I’m just trying to hang out with Sarina, and he’s trying to hang out with Mandy, and those two are always together. We’re cool, but we’re not tight. Not like the girls.”

  “This has been fun, but I should get back, since my partner ditched me and all.” I stood and brushed chips of old log off my shorts.

  “I’m sorry he ditched you, and for whatever he did to you back home.”

  I spun around. “Did he say something to you?”

  “No, but I get the feeling you two weren’t really friends.” He stuck out his hand, and I regarded him with caution. “I made a bad impression when we first met, but I hope we can start over. Sarina speaks highly of you, and her opinion means a lot to me.”

  “I guess we can start over.” I took his hand. “I’m CeCe. Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m Jerome. Nice to meet you too.”

  Pastor Dean’s whistle blew in the distance, calling us back, and Jerome walked with me out of the woods. Ethan and I hadn’t completed the task in the way it was meant, but we’d certainly revealed a lot more about each other than we ever had before. As soon as we hit the camp grounds again, I joined Peter and Paul near the stage.

  “How did it go?” Paul asked. “Did you use the Matthew passage?”

  “We didn’t get around to it. I sort of yelled at him and he left mad.”

  Paul laughed. “I’m going to need to hear this story.”

  “It’s not a very good one. I have to get to the nurse’s station for my community service hours. I’ll catch you later.”

  Ethan slung his arm around Mandy as he laughed with Sarina and Jerome. He caught my eye, and his expression turned somber. Whatever I’d been hoping to find when I came to camp didn’t match my reality. The Ethan I knew—the one who questioned his upbringing and didn’t want to be as emotionally detached as his father—had been replaced by this cold imposter.

  But the real him must’ve been in there somewhere. He had to be.

  Sarina set four brushes in front of me on our bathroom sink, and it felt very much like trying to guess which fork to use in a fancy restaurant. “Every eye shadow needs a good base.”

  Astrid sat on the edge of the bathtub, pen in hand. She’d dubbed herself the official record keeper, and promised to take notes on each step, so I’d be able to reference them at a later date. Learning how to do eye makeup had become a very complex endeavor.

  Sarina smeared a creamy liquid over my eyelids. Her own eye shadow was a little simpler than the mermaids’, but still stunning. The inside of her lid started as a shimmery white, and slowly blended to a sparkly navy on the outside.

  She got out a neutral palette with shades ranging from cream to dark brown. “This is for everyday wear. Cover your whole lid with the lightest shade first.”

  “Did you get that?” I asked Astrid.

  “Yep. Full lid, lightest color.”

  Sarina took the next thickest brush and dipped it in the next darkest color. “You want to draw a C, to about the halfway point.” She moved the brush between my crease and back down to my lower lid, swooping it back again, like drawing a letter C on my eye. “The trick is making your eyes look bigger by having the darker colors on the outside.”

  “Write that down,” I told Astrid.

  “I’m writing everything down. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

  Sarina took the smallest brush and dabbed it in the darkest brown. “Draw another C over the last one, but smaller.” She flicked it around the outside corner of my eye. “It should be half the size of the first C. Now blend.” She took a Q-tip and rubbed it around on the C. “What do you think?”

  I turned my head all different angles to see it properly. I’d always considered my brown eyes to be plain, but she’d made them come alive. They’d somehow become deeper, and the color sparkled with a hint of copper. “You’re a miracle worker.”

  I’d never had nice eye shadow in my life. Turned out you couldn’t just mash the nearest color to your face and expect decent results. Sarina had a soft, light voice and had made the explanations so simple. No wonder she had such a huge YouTube following.

  “What’s the last brush for?” I asked.

  “Shimmer, if you want it.” She took out a small single palette with the lightest of pink powders and dipped the last brush in. She pushed it into the corner of my inner eyelid and blended it outward, adding just a touch of light to my eyes.

  She also taught me how to use my eyeliner to help make my eyes look bigger, and how to use a bristled brush to add definition to my eyebrows. It had been so long since I’d had a fun, chill-out-with-the-girls day. This was what I needed.

  “Okay, everyone out.” Sarina waved her hands to shoo us toward the door. “I had the broccoli salad for lunch, and it’s finally catching up to me.”

  Sometimes they were a little too honest around here.

  Astrid ripped out the notebook paper with all my eye makeup instructions and put her notebook back on her shelf. “This is why she should’ve taken the bed by the bathroom.”

  “Are you running another workshop tomorrow?” I asked.

  “Yep. My high school requires twenty hours of community service to graduate too, and leading workshops is way better than some of the jobs they hand out around here.”

  “Tell me about it.” I practically had to force Motrin on a girl at the nurse’s station when she swore up and down her menstrual cramps were punishment for lustful thoughts. “I’m going to get some air.”

  I went outside to find Mandy on the front steps, twirling a stem of Queen Anne’s lace between her fingers. It grew all over the boys’ side of the lake.

  “Nice flower.” I took a seat beside her on the steps.

  She gave me a faint smile. “Ethan gave it to me.”

  The knot around my heart tightened. As I spent more time on Ethan’s ground, the less I knew which version of him was true. Maybe he’d been an ass all along, dormant while he was an outsider at school. Or maybe this environment brought out the worst in him. I used to think he was a good boyfriend, a romantic, because he picked me flowers and held my hand in public, but now that he was doing all those things for someone else, I didn’t feel so special anymore.

  “You don’t seem happy.” When her head shot up, I nodded to the Queen Anne’s lace. “With the flower, I mean.”

  “No, it’s a nice gesture.” She sighed and set it to the side. “I don’t know. He’s felt different these past few days.”

  “How so?” I didn’t really want to know, but on the other hand, I really did.

  “Last summer we were on the same page about everything. Life, family, our faith, but lately … I don’t know.”

  “Does it feel like he’s a different person?” Because it certainly felt that way to me.

  “Yeah. He’s meaner and more jaded, about life in general. Maybe public school changed him?”


  “Is he mean to you?” Something protective rose up inside me for Mandy, this girl I shouldn’t care one iota about. I’d come here to steal her boyfriend, for crying out loud. But still. I felt a certain amount of loyalty toward her. The kind of kinship that came from really, truly understanding how someone else felt.

  “Nothing like that. He’s just so condescending. I don’t even think he realizes he does it, but he acts like he’s going to save me from my simple, homeschooled life. Without considering that I like my life. I love my family.” When her bright eyes dimmed, I wanted to punch Ethan, not just for her or me, but for every girl who’d ever been made to feel like she was less than some guy.

  “Doesn’t he know you already have a savior?” I pointed to the sky.

  She smiled and bumped my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad I’m here too.” And for the first time, I actually meant it. “For what it’s worth, guys are good at crafting personas if they want something, but trust your gut. You’re a lot smarter than he gives you credit for.”

  “Thanks, sweetie bonbon.”

  I groaned. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Nope. Sorry.” She patted my knee. “You lucked out and got one of the good ones.”

  Once she closed the door behind me, I whispered, “If only you knew how wrong you are.”

  Chapter 10

  Four days into camp, and I still hadn’t found my rhythm. The people were friendly enough—I actually enjoyed hanging out with my cabin—but this wasn’t my world. I missed my other friends and my parents. If I tried to go home, though, my parents would be furious. They used to count the grapes left in my lunch box and deduct the value from my allowance to teach me to not be wasteful. They’d budgeted my absence down to the penny, and the nonrefundable check had already cleared.

  Plus, I had my very limited supply of pride to consider. Finding the Ethan I knew was proving more difficult than I’d expected. He’d barely made eye contact with me since our blowup in the woods, and he made it a point to pick workshops I wouldn’t be in, but I still cared. I hated that part of myself. I wanted to have fun, make harmless mistakes, and flirt with Christian boys. I wanted to feel something other than the persistent ache that buried itself in my heart and throbbed whenever I thought about Ethan.

  After putting in my time at the nurse’s station, I finally had a free afternoon to do whatever I wanted. Sarina had lifeguard duty, and I told her I’d stop down at the lake to save her from perpetual boredom. Mandy had built up the Blob so much on the ride over, I was eager to get a crack at it. Maybe some fun in the sun could chase away my gloom.

  Halfway down the path to the lake, a snub-nosed college-aged counselor with blunt bangs stopped me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Going swimming?” Was that not allowed? Everyone else was down at the lake.

  “Not in that you’re not.” She motioned to my yellow-and-teal polka-dot bikini. “No two-piece swimsuits allowed at camp.”

  “Seriously?” I might’ve skimmed over that portion of the handbook. “Why not?”

  “We dress modestly here, and if you’ll remember your Scripture, I might direct you to Matthew 5:28.”

  I didn’t need to look it up to know it probably had something to do with girls being the sole ones to blame for all the sinful boners of the world. “I didn’t bring anything else.”

  “Come with me. We have something more appropriate in our extras pile.” As I followed her in the opposite direction of the lake, she turned back to me. “Wrap that towel around yourself. We don’t need any of the boys running into you like that.”

  I’d lost my virginity in the back of a pickup truck to a guy who blamed me for his detour off the path of righteousness, and in a handful of words, this counselor had made me feel more ashamed of my body than I had when Ethan told me why we had to break up. Clutching my towel in a tight knot, I held it to my chest. My fingernails dug into my soft skin. In her eyes, it wasn’t the sex that made me dirty; it was me. Like my very existence in a female form had to be covered up, hidden away. One of several reasons I could add to the growing pile of why I’d never be a Christian.

  Paul crossed the path in front of us and stopped short. He had his towel around his neck, and his board shorts hung off his narrow hips. He’d gotten a couple of chest hairs since last summer, and the thought made me want to laugh. Or cry. Or cry-laugh.

  “What’s going on?” He must’ve seen something in my expression because his brows drew together in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, you know.” I kept my tone light, but I couldn’t fool Paul. “Can’t wear a two-piece to Jesus camp, because I guess the sight of a girl’s stomach turns all the boys into horny werewolves. But guys can walk around shirtless with their nipples on full display.”

  The counselor grunted her disapproval. I’m sure she was just itching to report this interaction to Pastor Dean. Not that I actually gave a crap anymore.

  Paul looked between me and the counselor, and though he didn’t say it out loud, I could practically hear him in my head saying, See? This is what they’re like. This is why I don’t affiliate myself with them. Instead he said, “I’ll come with you.”

  “You most certainly will not.” The counselor stood between us.

  “Not to watch her change—sheesh, get your mind out of the gutter,” Paul said, and satisfaction fluttered briefly inside me as the counselor’s face turned red. “I’ll wait outside until you’re ready and we’ll go down to the lake together.”

  “I suppose that’s fine,” the counselor said, as if she’d already tried and failed to think of an excuse for why that wouldn’t be fine at all.

  “It should be fine,” I said. “He’s seen me in less than this.”

  I dropped the towel to my feet. Paul swallowed hard as a soft light touched his eyes. We were in full-on fake relationship mode, and pretending with Paul while pissing off this counselor was the only thing that had made me feel good since my blowup with Ethan in the woods.

  “Pick that towel back up,” the counselor said as her gaze kept darting to the front of Paul’s shorts. “Pastor Dean is going to hear about this.”

  “But this is my boyfriend.” I stepped up to Paul and ran my hands down his chest. “I’m sure he doesn’t mind what I wear to the lake. Do you, sugar lump?”

  Paul wrapped an arm around the small of my back and pulled me roughly against him, where the line between real and pretend started to blur. “I think you look perfect.”

  There was a hard edge to his voice, like he was trying, and failing, to cage a wild animal. It tickled something inside me. Something that wanted to push it further. To take the ruse as far as it could go. I stood on my tiptoes and nipped his earlobe with my teeth. His chest rumbled as his thumbs brushed up my side, right where the strings of my bikini top gave way to more fabric. The counselor yanked my upper arm, pulling me away from Paul, who rubbed his hands over his face as he let out a deep breath.

  The counselor wrapped my towel so tight around me, it almost choked off my air. “One more display like that, and I’m marching you both to Pastor Dean’s office.”

  “You coming or not?” I glanced at Paul.

  He shook the dazed look off his face. “Coming.”

  The three of us wound our way behind the girls’ cabins until we came to a small wooden structure that looked like a windblown shack. The counselor motioned me inside and shut the door in Paul’s face. The inside smelled like an old lady’s garden shed. She clicked on a small light, revealing boxes of junk and old clothes.

  “How many bodies do you think are buried beneath this floor?” I asked.

  She did not find me nearly as amusing as I found myself. She grabbed what looked like a black bag from one of the boxes and flung it at me, slamming the door on her way out. The light above my head flickered. I pulled the—I guess it was a swimsuit—on over my bikini. No way would I let this thing touch my naked body. Not after it had m
ost likely been rotting in a box for a decade. It had sleeves that went down to my elbows, leggings that ended just past my knees, and a giant dress-like structure covering me from head to toe. This was a disaster. They’d worn more revealing bathing suits during the Victorian era.

  I stepped out of the shed with my arms crossed tightly over my chest. I would’ve been more comfortable if I’d been forced to cover my stomach with a scarlet A. Paul started laughing so hard, the counselor jumped. After giving me a once-over, she nodded and left us on our own. Probably because she knew no one would even think about having sex with me while I wore this monstrosity.

  “Shut up.” I punched Paul on the arm. “You could’ve warned me.”

  He backed away with his hands up. “Hey, I didn’t read the handbook either.”

  “You’ve been here before.”

  “And you expected me to remember all the details?”

  “I figured girls in swimsuits would’ve been a pretty clear memory for you. Who cares if anyone sees my stomach? It’s not sexy or anything.”

  He gave me a wolfish grin. “Well, you do have a perversely small belly button.”

  “What?” I looked down at my covered stomach. “It’s not perverse. It’s dainty.”

  He slung an arm around my shoulders. “You over this yet?”

  “I’ve been over this.”

  “Do you want to go home? We can call my mom and have her come pick us up. She’ll be bummed camp didn’t save our souls, but I think she’ll understand.”

  “My parents would kill me, or ground me until I turned eighteen. They already paid, and you know how the Wellses’ budget plan goes.” I couldn’t tell him I was also still holding on to the smallest bit of hope for Ethan. I wasn’t in the mood for any more judgment this afternoon. “Two and a half more weeks. Then we can chill the rest of the summer.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” He kissed my hand the way Ethan had kissed Mandy’s, and I knew it was a joke, but I glanced down at the place where his lips had touched my skin. All the nerves underneath tingled.