Summer Doesn't Last Forever

by Magdalene G. Jones

  2:36 P.M. 5/6/19,

  On my bunk, under Maya’s mattress,

  (where I just hit my head)

  You have been looking for something you already have! Yes, Adam and Everly are thousands of miles away. Yes, they struggle to find time to talk with you. But they are your BEST friends. You aren’t going to find anyone else who loves you more than they do. Or knows you as well as they do. Or will understand as well as they do. Have a strand of loyalty, Tarni! It’s the least you can do.

  This is your strategy:

  1. You will text and message Adam and Everly as often as possible, asking to FaceTime.

  2. You will mention them (and Luke and Asher) as often as possible (this way warding off people who want to be your friends.)

  I frown at the statement. Prideful . . .

  (Not that anyone WANTS to be your friend. More than likely, there are only select people who like you. No one can like everyone. You are someone’s leftover.)

  3. You will go through camp, clinging to your friends. Adam and Everly are amazing.

  I put down my journal and pull my phone out of my bag. I snap a picture of my list, making it my home screen. After another moment of searching, I return my lock-screen to the photo of Adam, Everly, and me. Koa will understand.

  I slide my journal in my bag and open messages.

  Adam still hasn’t responded.

  I lick my lips and open my chat with Everly.

  Hey, Evie! Just wondering if you are free to FaceTime soon? I miss you tons :)

  I send it and flop back on my bed. I cross my arms under my head with a deep, freeing sigh.

  Be vulnerable, and don’t talk about it afterward. Have fun, and don’t get attached. Be yourself, as long as no one judges you. I frown again. That’s not . . . right. I’ll be myself, as long as it is appropriate.

  Footsteps and giggling hurry up the steps outside, and the door flings open. Maya, Genevieve, and Abi stumble in.

  “Tarni! Come swim with us!” Maya hurries to her suitcase, digging for her swimsuit.

  “Please do,” Abi walks over to the vanity and twists her braids into a thick bun. “Drew said he and Amias would come too.”

  “Besides,” Genevieve winks and steps into the bathroom. “We can relax before finding out who won the scavenger hunt . . . and it’s gonna be me!”

  “In your dreams, Merka!” Maya jeers.

  Genevieve peers around the door, sticking her tongue out like a literal five-year-old. Maya sticks hers back, and Abi and I snicker.

  I stand and walk over to my suitcase. “We are swimming in the ocean, yes?”

  “Duh,” Maya shudders. “You think I would willingly swim in that icy-godforsaken-spring again? I’m not that stupid.”

  “There are the pools,” Abi reminds her.

  “Pools have nothing on the ocean,” she changes into her red bathing suit.

  I pull my black floral one-piece off my bunk bed. I quickly—or quickly as swimsuits are concerned—change and take off my glasses. We grab our supplies—which are nothing more than towels and sunscreen for Genevieve and Maya (“I hate being white,” Maya grumbles)—and tear through the lobby and our lounge room to the beach.

  Swimming hasn’t lost a bit of its charm, despite consistency.

  I sprint onto the sand. Drew and Brynn look up with another girl who could hardly pass for their sibling, let alone their triplet. Yet, triplet Kelly was. Short, blonde, and sarcastic.

  “Ooo, called it!” Brynn crows. “I knew the girls would get here before Amias!”

  “Their bungalow is closer,” Kelly crosses her arms over her bright orange swimsuit.

  I have never met a white girl who can pull off orange like Kelly.

  “Whatever. I still win!” Brynn does a funny dance with her arms.

  “What is all the yelling for?”

  My heart speeds up at the voice. It has been nearly a week since the whole fell-asleep-on-Amias’s-shoulder incident, but I still get nervous when he’s around. Friendship doesn’t remove embarrassment.

  “Hey, Amias,” I turn and smile.

  “Heya,” he grins. “The girls pulled you out of hiding?”

  My smile turns over.

  “I’m teasing you,” he chuckles. “I’m sure you had important things to attend to.”

  “I was talking with my besties,” I seize the opportunity. “The ones who used to live in my city.”

  “It’s good you can still talk to them, at least,” Abi pulls a large, floppy sun hat over her bun.

  “Yes, they are amazing. We had—and have—so much fun together,” I look out at the water.

  “Well, I’m going swimming. If y’all are interested in joining me,” Drew salutes and runs for the water.

  “Wait for me!” Maya sprints after him.

  Brynn rolls her eyes, “Children.”

  “So disappointing,” Kelly agrees.

  I quirk an eyebrow, “Isn’t Drew five minutes older than you?”

  “Did he say that?” Kelly licks her lips and studies her brother. “Well, you’ll soon learn that I received an extra bit of wisdom from my extra time in the womb.”

  “Ha! You wish,” Brynn snorts.

  We laugh at the familiar bickering. Abi sets her things on a beach chair.

  “I, at least, shall join them,” she stretches her arms over her head.

  “We’re coming. We’re coming,” Genevieve assures her. “Just getting ourselves sorted.”

  She slathers herself in sunscreen, nearly streaking her striped two-piece. Abi and I chuckle.

  “Skincare is no joke, Miss, I-wear-makeup-everyday-of-my-life,” Genevieve wags a finger.

  “Oh, I am well aware,” Abi promises.

  “Hmm. And what about you, Tarni? Don’t you burn?”

  “I can, but I rarely do,” I shrug. “Though when I leave my house at home, I wear a hijab and abaya.”

  “Uh-oh,” Kelly grabs my arm. “Get her protected, Genevieve! She’ll burn for sure.”

  “What?” I glance at her.

  “Your skin can become more easily sunburned when you go awhile without exposure,” Genevieve sprays sunscreen onto my arms and legs.

  “Whatever,” I start rubbing it in.

  “You’ll be grateful,” Amias assures me.

  “Says the basic white boy with a barely tan,” the words escape my mouth before I can pretend to stop them.

  Panic spreads through me, and my eyes widen. Amias laughs.

  “Ouch, Tarni,” he fakes a pout. “I’m not that pale. Or basic.”

  “Man, I can’t remember when I spent this much time in the sun, and I am twelve shades darker than you. And you have blond hair and blue eyes. You are about as basic as they come.”

  “Discrimination!”

  I laugh, “You are proving my point.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he winks a pretty-boy eye. “Anyway, I’m tanner than Genevieve.”

  “Lucky,” Genevieve eyes him gloomily.

  “Let me guess; you burn like a lobster?” Kelly points at Genevieve’s red hair.

  “It’s the absolute worst. No one understands my pain.”

  I put down my stuff, “Well, whatever is necessary to swim!”

  I run towards the water. Amias and Genevieve sprint after me. I splash through the water and flop on my back, squinting at the bright sky. Clouds float overhead, forming into bizarre shapes.

  “My friends and I used to cloud watch,” I say to no one in particular. “We would go onto the roof-racks of our cars, and argue over what shapes they were.”

  “It sounds like you had a lot of fun with them,” Genevieve says softly, somewhere to my left.

  “I did. I do. They are busy with school and all, but we talk whenever we get the chance,” the half-lie slips from my lips.

  I’m sure they are doing everything they can to stay in touch. Contact has been . . . present, even if sporadic. At least? I shut my eyes.

  “They had quite an impact on your life?” Amias s
plashes my nose as he joins me.

  “Well, yeah, they are my best friends.”

  “And you are still okay now that they are gone?”

  I hesitate, unsure if he is asking a trick question. But how would he be tricking me . . . ? I stand up.

  “I mean, they never thrived in my city. I’m glad they have moved to new places that might provide what they need,” I shrug.

  “But you miss them?” He gives me an understanding smile.

  “More than anything.”

  We keep swimming, and I push the conversation from my mind. The sun lowers in the sky as we play and chat. Amias dunks me under and yells, “Payback, Tarni Bird!” in the middle of my conversation with Abi. Which means; war. The peaceful Mediterranean descends into hostility not seen since ancient times. Splashing and laughter and sputtered gasps fill the air. The taste and smell of salt drench my senses.

  “All right! All right! I surrender,” Amias holds up his hands against the barrages of water Genevieve and I send at him.

  His lips twitch. I cross my arms for a moment, but release the stance—as I am treading water—and settle for tossing my head.

  “Good.”

  “You are so vengeful,” he grumbles.

  I raise an eyebrow, and he drops the act. He chuckles and floats on the surface.

  “I love this,” he shuts his eyes.

  “Me too,” I look up at the sky again. “We go to the beach frequently in my country, and it’s great. But there’s something about being in the Mediterranean . . .”

  “In Marathon, too,” Abi agrees.

  “We found the history nerd!” Drew bows sarcastically.

  “I own it with pride.”

  “Oh, dear. There’s no escape for you, my friend.”

  “You’ll remember that you knew what I was referring to,” Abi presents her case with an elegant gesture.

  “Got me,” Drew clicked his tongue.

  They continue bantering. I glance back at shore, where Kelly and Brynn sit with their friends. I wonder if Adam or Everly texted me yet . . .

  “Tarni?”

  I face Amias.

  “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” He runs a hand through his wet blond hair.

  My eyebrows rise, “Here I was thinking you were going to tell me I have seaweed on my face.”

  “That too.”

  I splash myself, “Did I get it?”

  “Here,” he reaches out and peels a piece off my cheek.

  My skin heats at his touch. Oh yeah. The whole sleeping-on-his-shoulder-thing still affects me. Darn it. You would think I would get over it. He certainly has.

  “Thank you,” I say instead.

  “Sure thing. So, where would you live?”

  I bite my bottom lip and look down into the water, “I don’t know. I belong everywhere . . . and nowhere. I don’t have a home.”

  “No home is permanent. Except the one above, built for us.”

  “I know. But I’m sick of missing mine. When my friends were with me, they were my home. But now . . .”

  “Yeah,” he pats my shoulder. “I get it. In Kenya, I feel like I’m not doing all that I should be. I feel aimless, which feels like missing home. For me, my family is my home. And my family—which can be friends—is spread all over the world.”

  “It’s sad.”

  He shakes his head, “Perhaps. But I am strangely thankful. Wherever I go, I will feel disconnected and immediately connected. A TCK’s paradox, but a gift nonetheless.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” I float over a wave.

  “It’s not a popular outlook. Many TCKs fall between ‘nowhere is home’ and ‘I must make a home somewhere.’”

  “Yeah,” I fuss with my hair, uncomfortable again.

  I don’t know which one of those I’m in. All I know is that I want my family back, my dear, dear friends. Amias is right; family is my home. But my heart is stretched between three continents.

  Three. Continents.

  No matter which one I claim, the other two will tear my heart.

  I am far too gloomy.

  Genevieve checks her waterproof watch, “We should start drying off if we want to get to the next session on time.”

  “Who’s being honored today?” Drew starts swimming for shore.

  “I am,” Abi says in a small voice.

  Honoring is one of the best parts of camp. Every afternoon, two different groups gather around two people. After praying, we share what God gives us for that specific person. It cuts to the core of hearts and souls. I have watched many people break into tears during and after their honoring.

  And I am terrified of mine. Thankfully, there are so many kids here, mine won’t be for a while. I hope.

  “I hope I’m in your group!” Genevieve squeals and grabs Abi’s shoulder. “I already wrote in your honoring book!”

  “Really?” Abi’s nervous expression grows.

  Honoring books were another way of honoring as you got to know people better. So, naturally, I haven’t written in any yet.

  “Don’t worry, Abi,” Drew calls as we drift toward the shore. “It’s not as scary as you think. The silence during prayers is the worst, but after that, it’s amazing.”

  “I just hope people talk, and I’m not left sitting there awkwardly,” Abi hugs herself, walking towards the beach chair Brynn guards for us.

  I wince. I often fear the same thing will happen in my honoring. There had been a few awkward honorings where no one wanted to speak up.

  “You won’t be,” Drew promises with such confidence, Abi really smiles.

  “I wonder how they choose the order,” Maya muses, looking up at the hotel building.

  “I think they decide in their leader devotions,” Amias hands me my towel.

  I smile my thanks and wrap it around me, “That would make sense. I hope mine doesn’t come for a long time.”

  “Me too,” Maya makes a face. “I would feel called out.”

  “It’s honoring, not discouraging,” Brynn shakes her head.

  “Who else is being honored today?” I glance down the beach full of camp kids.

  “One of my friends,” Kelly joins us again. “He’s pretty shy. You probably don’t know him.”

  “Aha.”

  We dry off and sit in the sun, chatting until one of the teachers yells from the hotel. The beached children stand and hurry back to the building, still wet. We separate into our honoring groups. Abi’s hands shake as our group walks outside. Lena and Rachelle spot me from the other group and wave. I wave back.

  “I wonder what it’s like to be an old-timer,” I watch them walk to the other side of the green backyard.

  “It’s strange,” Genevieve agrees beside me. “They seem so . . .”

  “Mature and put together. Though, I feel that way about anyone other than me,” I frown a little.

  “Everyone? Even that Miles-kid?”

  “No.”

  Genevieve laughs, “I know what you mean. Big groups can be comforting, but they also make you feel small when you don’t see their struggles. That’s why I love the push for vulnerability at this camp. We are all screw-ups. We all have something to learn. And we all have something to share.”

  I slowly nod. What a strange concept that we must be vulnerable to see ourselves as worthy. Another too familiar ache rattles my chest.

  We gather around Abi. To no one’s surprise, almost everyone has something to say. The colors pink and purple swirl out of people’s mouths. Along with quotes about inner beauty. Abi takes it in with wide eyes. She barely manages to say thank you.

  I wonder if my honoring session will look like this . . . I frown and shake myself. Don’t be selfish; don’t be stupid. Everyone loves Abi.

  We continue our honoring and pray. I hold Abi’s trembling hands as we close.

  “Thanks, guys,” Abi beams at Genevieve and me. “I’m so grateful for you.”

  “And we’re so grateful for yo
u,” I smile back as we step into the hotel building.

  “Oh yeah,” Maya walks inside with the other group, popping a gum bubble. “Sorry, I missed out.”

  “Not a problem,” Abi promises.

  “Anyway, what’s next? More games? I hope we don’t have to do any running,” Genevieve puts a hand on her stomach and makes a face.

  Abi, Maya, and I all wince in sympathy.

  “You too, huh?” Rachelle joins us and slings an arm around Genevieve.

  “Yeah, well. At least I’m getting it over with,” Genevieve waves a hand. “The rest of camp will be without blemish.”

  “What are you talking about?” Drew frowns, glancing between Rachelle and Genevieve.

  “Oh, you sweet summer child,” Lena clucks, stepping over.

  “ . . . oh,” Drew shakes his head. “You forget, I have two sisters. Two triplet sisters.”

  Lena shrugs, “No, I just wanted to use that phrase.”

  “Ever the writer, huh?” Rachelle heaves her eyes to the sky. “Oh, Lena, Lena, Lena.”

  “You know it, sista! Come on. I think Miss Jan is about to attempt a relationship confrontation with you and your boyfriend. Let’s get you out of embarrassment’s way, shall we?”

  “Ugh, Lena. You don’t understand. This is so annoying,” Rachelle whines as Lena tugs her away.

  “If I didn’t understand, I wouldn’t be helping you.”

  Rachelle laughs. Our group smirks after them.

  “Jan doesn’t approve of Rachelle and her boyfriend?” Genevieve lowers her voice.

  “There are downsides to being an ultimate old-timer like Rachelle and her boy,” Abi glances around to make sure the leaders can’t hear. “The leaders get protective.”

  “Aha,” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Yep.”

  Jeff calls us over for more games, capturing our attention.

  Games continue. Dinner is had. And we funnel back into the lounge area, ready to hear the results of our scavenger hunt.

  My leg bounces as I watch the leaders fuss with the computer and projector. Brynn glances at me from across the room. She smirks and raises her hands, crossing her fingers. I copy the gesture. Soon, our whole team holds their fingers crossed over their heads. Jeff walks to the front and switches on the projector without a word. The room cheers and chuckles break out as each team’s pictures are displayed. The sandcastle picture of our team appears.