“How come you got to bring a friend but your sisters didn’t?” I whisper as we’re standing in the aisle of the plane, ready to get off.
“They got to last year,” she explains. “We’re supposed to alternate, but I’ve never brought a friend before.”
I nod and think back to our recent lunch table conversations. I want to ask if she’s asked other people to come in the past or this year, but I decide not to. What difference does it make, anyway?
When we’re all in the black SUV taking us to the resort, Cami talks nonstop. “Okay, Kaylan, first thing we do is go to the room, unpack, and then get right into our bathing suits so we can go to the pool and do all the waterslides. Got it?”
“Got it,” I reply.
“Cam, you’re so mega controlling. Chill out a bit,” her sister Jane says. “You need to seriously calm down. You’re already making me crazy and we’re not even at the resort yet.”
“Jane,” their dad warns. “Watch your tone. Please.”
I can tell Jane’s rolling her eyes even though I can’t see them. She has a certain head tilt she does when she rolls her eyes. I guess it runs in the family.
Jane turns and whispers something to the middle sister, Louisa. They all call her Lou. And then Lou cackles into hysterics. I look over at Cami, who’s staring out the window, acting like she’s not hearing any of this, but I know she is. I start to feel bad for her. This isn’t the Cami I know from school. With her family, she’s a completely different Cami.
We’re all quiet the rest of the ride, except for the occasional whispers between Jane and Lou. They’re only two years apart and then Lou and Cami are four. So it’s like the two of them have teamed up and Cami’s on her own team. When I think about it, Cami should really be able to bring a friend every year. Since Lou and Jane have each other.
Cami’s parents got a gigantic suite with three bedrooms and three bathrooms and a living and dining room that’s bigger than my living and dining room at home. It also has two balconies and a fireplace, though I’m not sure if it’s a real working fireplace.
Cami and I have our own room with two queen beds, and Jane and Lou have one just like ours, and then Cami’s parents have a gigantic room with a jacuzzi tub in their bathroom.
“Do you always get this suite?” I ask her as we’re unpacking everything and putting our clothing in the drawers.
She nods. “Yup. Did you see the sign welcoming us on the door? They don’t do that for everyone.”
“Oh. Okay.”
As I’m unpacking and putting all of my clothes away, I start to get a sinking kind of sadness that seems to move from my throat to my stomach and even drips a little to my toes. Here I am at this fancy resort with a view of the ocean and an amazing pool and we can get as much room service as we want and I feel so sad. Even though all of this is amazing and great, I don’t want any of it. I feel a deep desire to just leave right now, call my mom, and get a flight home.
“You okay?” Cami asks. “We’ll go to the pool really soon. I just like to get all set up first. And my parents don’t care if we go off on our own and do whatever we want. We won’t have to see my sisters at all, I promise. This is gonna be so fun, Kaylan.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’m fine.” I force a laugh. “Plus, I always wanted a sister.”
“Not one like the two I have. For real.” She shakes her head. “I can’t wait until Jane goes to college.”
I nod.
Cami takes a while longer to unpack so I lie down on the hotel bed and close my eyes for a second. Traveling is exhausting, I guess. I text my mom to let her know we landed and we’re safe at the resort and then I text Ari to see what’s up.
I think about how different this trip would be if it were me with Ari’s family. I wouldn’t have this awkward, sad sliminess, that’s for sure. I’d paint Gemma’s nails on the balcony and then we’d all go down to the pool together and it would feel relaxed and peaceful and safe.
Me: Hey Ar, miss you
She writes back a second later.
Ari: Miss you so much too. Think I’ve maxed out on the fruit-water thing. Can we JHH that even though we’re not JHHing? My favorite is def the strawberry peach.
Me: Yes. Def. What else is up?
Ari: Nada really. Freezing. Jelly you’re in the sun
Me: Yeah.
Ari: How’s Cami?
Me: She’s good. Still unpacking.
Ari: LOL. Love ya
Me: Love ya too.
When we get down the pool, my icky sad feeling fades away a bit. We order piña coladas and they come with giant pieces of pineapple and pink umbrellas and it’s really impossible to feel sad when you’re drinking something with an umbrella. I think that’s pretty much an undeniable fact of life. And then we go on the lazy river three times and down the waterslides six times.
“That jump in your stomach when we take that second turn, isn’t that the best?” Cami asks. “And even though you’re expecting it, it’s still kind of surprising, right?”
“Yeah, totally. It’s like I hate it but love it at the same time.”
“That’s how I felt when I kissed Everett Kramer for the first time,” Cami explains as we’re holding our floats, waiting to go on the lazy river again. “I totally hated it, waiting for it to happen, and I wanted to back out a thousand times, but then we kissed and I loved it.”
“How many times have you kissed Everett? I didn’t even know this. I don’t think I did, anyway.” I shake my flip-flop to get a pebble out.
“Six times. Maybe seven.” Cami tilts her head like she’s calculating. “I dunno. We haven’t kissed since sixth grade. He’s in love with Grace now. Do you see how he stares at her in math?”
“Grace Chu?” I ask. “Or Grace Shickman?”
“Chu. He’s obsessed. I mean, she’s so pretty. But, still. It’s still upsetting.” She crinkles her nose and looks away and I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or just trying to shield herself from the sun. It’s so strange to be somewhere so sunny when it’s freezing back at home. It’s like my brain knows it’s true, but still can’t totally understand it.
“She is pretty,” I admit. “But Everett’s kind of lame, Cam. I wouldn’t stress it.”
“I’m not stressing it. I was just saying how it felt to kiss him. Sheesh.” She turns away even further and crosses her arms across her chest. And then we just stand there silently for what feels like three thousand years. I see Jane and Lou walk past us with a group of other teenagers—three more girls and four guys—and I want to ask Cami if they’re kids they see every year. But I don’t because it’ll probably just annoy her.
We finally get to the front of the line for the lazy river and the guy says to us, “You can hop in the river anytime, you don’t have to be at the starting point. Just so you know.”
Cami and I look at each other.
“But we like to start at the beginning,” she explains, and I nod like I agree with her even though I don’t really care at all.
The mood lightens a little when we’re floating along on the lazy river. We go under a waterfall and get completely drenched but it feels refreshing and amazing.
“Want to go lounge for a while?” Cami asks me as we put our floats down.
“Yes, def,” I reply. I hope to take a short nap or maybe read. Anything to sort of mentally check out for a little bit. I’m not usually this one-on-one with Cami and I think that’s the difference. We’re usually in a big group together so her intensity doesn’t feel this intense.
We get to our lounge chairs and Cami orders two plates of fries and two Cokes. “We can get whatever we want,” she explains. “Don’t worry. It’s all-inclusive.”
She’s already told me this at least twelve times, but I still try to act surprised and pleased about it.
“That’s the best,” I say, adjusting my chair and a rolled-up towel behind my head.
“I’m so glad we’ve become so close,” Cami says, turning to face me. “Do you
feel as close to Ari as you always did now or is it different since you and I are so close? Or, like, because of other stuff, too? I don’t know. Has your friendship changed?”
Cami’s one of these people who will literally say whatever’s on her mind, and ask anyone any question. She walks through life carrying a hot poker like you’d use in a fireplace and then just jabs it into your side from time to time.
“Um, I think we’re still just as close as we’ve always been.” I shut my eyes, feeling the hot sun on my face, anticipating extra freckles along my nose.
“What do you mean you think?” She props herself up on her elbow and stares at me.
“I think friendships are always changing. And Ari and I are literal BFFs. In the forever part. But, like, it’s not always the same friendship it was. And it probably won’t stay the way it is now, forever, either. She’s really more of a sister than a friend. It’s on another level.”
“Yeah. But you might think your friendship is forever and then it ends up not being totally that way. It was like that with June and me, but now I think she just finds me so annoying,” Cami admits. “Do you ever see that?”
I hesitate and think about it for a second. “I’m always a little zoned out at lunch. So I don’t really know. I think things will be different after break. We all needed some time apart.”
“Even you and Ari?” she asks.
I shrug, trying to appear patient. “Kinda, yeah.” I look right at her and say, “Listen, Cam, let’s make a pact. This has to be a fun week. No drama, no stressing, just fun. Okay?”
“But you’re the queen of stressing! Agita girl, remember?” She cracks up.
“I do remember.” I laugh. “But this is a vacation. Let’s have fun! Woo!”
“Woo!” she yells back.
Right then, Jane and Lou pass us and look a little confused, but that only makes us laugh more.
“Woo!” I yell again.
A little while later, my phone dings and I see that I have an email from my dad.
Dear Kaylan,
I hope you’re enjoying the trip. I’ve given some thought to comedy camp. I’ll cover some of the cost, and your mother will cover some, but you’re going to need to use some of your birthday savings as well. And next time, you must be honest when you apply for something like this. I’d still like for you to give some thought to my wedding. I know it will mean missing a few days of the program, but I really want you to be there. Please think about it.
Love, Dad
This email from my dad could force me to bang my head against the wall or scream at the top of my lungs or maybe both at the exact same time.
Cami’s intensity could suck me in and make this whole time away a swirling mess of drama.
But I’m not going to let any of those things happen.
At least he’s paying for part of it. That means I can go.
And this is a vacation.
I’m going to have fun.
28
ARI
ALICE, ZOE, AND HANA ARE sleeping over tomorrow, so I spend a good chunk of my break texting with them and planning out what we’re going to do. So far all we’ve come up with is: watch all the old camp videos we can find online and eat as much as humanly possible.
We decide we’ll go out for Chinese food and see a movie and try to stay up all night.
All of that sounds good to me.
Most of all, I am just so excited to have them here.
I haven’t heard from Golfy at all, which isn’t surprising really. But I do miss him. I miss his stories the most.
My parents agreed to move their cars to the driveway so I can practice unicycling in the garage. It didn’t make sense to leave it at school over break, since I’d miss out on so much good practice time.
“You’re doing great,” Jason says, sitting on a milk crate in the corner of my garage watching me try to unicycle.
“How long was I up that time?” I ask him.
He looks at the stopwatch. “Forty-seven seconds.”
“That’s it?” I squeak. “I did over two minutes once in school.”
“Are you sure the clock was working?” He looks at me sideways, laughing.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll kick you out if you’re not helpful!”
“Try it again,” he says. “You’ll do better with each time you try it.”
“But how am I ever going to get to the point where I’ll be able to hula-hoop while on this thing?” I ask, feeling slumpy and depressed.
“You’ll get there.” He cracks up. “Why do you guys torture yourselves like this, anyway?”
“We don’t torture ourselves. We like challenging ourselves.”
He shakes his head, not convinced.
“So your camp friends are coming tomorrow?” he asks me.
I don’t respond. I can’t talk while unicycling, which isn’t a very good sign. If I can’t talk while doing it, how can I expect to hula-hoop while doing it?
I lose my balance and say, “Sorry, it’s hard for me to talk and stay up at the same time. Yeah, they’re coming tomorrow.”
“Are you excited?” he asks.
“Yup. They want to meet you.”
“Oooh.” He laughs. “So they can compare me to the Golfster?”
I slap his arm. “Don’t call him the Golfster. His name is Golfy.”
“Whatever.” He laughs. “Okay, try again. I’ll time you.”
I smile. Jason is pretty much my coach right now and it feels good. I have a new sense of confidence on this unicycle—I don’t think it has anything to do with Jason specifically, but having someone here, timing me, is helpful.
My butt is starting to hurt from the unicycle seat, though, and I wonder if I should research comfier seats or cushions or something.
“Yes!” he yells. “That was close to two minutes. Amazing job!”
“For real?” I ask, pulling over a milk crate and sitting down next to him.
“Yes, for real.” He laughs and moves his milk crate closer to me. “You’re doing great.”
I look up at him right then and he looks at me and even though it’s only about seven degrees outside, it’s warm in my garage, even with the door open. I guess some of the heat from the house seeps in through the walls and keeps it sorta toasty in here. I’m not sure.
Before I know what’s happening, Jason kisses me. A quick peck on the lips, by the side of my garage, under the faded poster from when my mom ran for the school board.
“There,” he says. “I just had to. Was that okay?”
“It was okay.” I laugh. “Maybe a little better than okay.”
“You know what I mean.” He flicks my knee. “Okay, only a three-second break and then back to unicycling. You’re doing well, you can’t lose your momentum now.”
“Okay.” I pick up my phone and see five texts from Kaylan updating me on this sushi dinner they had last night and that Cami’s sister Jane made out with some random guy on the beach.
Kaylan: I think they actually met last year. So maybe it’s not that random.
Me: Oh. Interesting. Practicing my unicycling rn btw. Going to do some more online contests later.
Kaylan: Fab. On my 4th pina colada btw. Have been asking for fruit in my water all day
Me: Jelllllllll
I catch Jason reading over my shoulder.
“Hey! Stop!” I swat his hand away. “You can’t read my texts.”
“Why not?” he laughs. “They’re interesting.”
I shake my head. “Jason, for real. No. You can’t do that.”
He slumps down on the milk crate like a toddler who just got in trouble. He sits there sulking for a few minutes.
“Are you going to tell Kaylan we kissed?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Not over text, though. Not while she’s away. I don’t know.”
He laughs. “You just said like six different answers.”
“I know.” I pause. “Because I don’t know yet.”
> “Are you listening to yourself? You’re so funny but I don’t even think you’re trying to be funny right now. Which makes it even funnier.”
“You’re pretty funny yourself.” I take off his baseball cap and swat his face with it.
“Funny, funny, funny.”
We keep saying the word over and over again until we’re laughing so much we can’t stop, and we completely forget what was even so funny in the first place.
We’re back up in my room after all the unicycling practice and it’s kind of strange to have him here now, since things have changed between us.
“Let me see the list,” he says.
“What? No!” I yell from across the room. I’m searching through my drawers to find my comfiest pajamas for the camp friends sleepover.
“Why not?” he asks. “I saw all the other lists.”
“That was different. For the first one you were just our friend. And for the second one you were half Kaylan’s boyfriend and half my friend. And for this one you’re, well, I don’t know what you are.”
He sits back on my beanbag chair with his arms behind his head. “Well, what am I? Tell me, Arianna Simone Nodberg.”
“You tell me, Jason Samuel Klee,” I say right back to him.
We’re quiet then, both of us with smug expressions on our faces.
“Well, I’m still a friend to both of you. Maybe more. I don’t know. Anyway, show me the list,” he demands. “I want to help. And you’re gonna want my help, especially with the fruit-infused-water thing. My mom has like a million varieties. She has a special recipe book just for that!”
“She does?”
“Yes. So seriously, you’re only hurting yourself by not letting me help you.”
I consider it for a moment, and then I reason that it’s actually fine to show him the list. He’s seen the others. He’s still my neighbor and friend and obviously more than a friend, but whatever—we have history with him. Both of us do.
I grab a copy from the top drawer of my desk and show it to him.
He looks it over for what feels like an extra-long time. Like he shouldn’t really need this long to read over a list of thirteen things.
“Interesting,” he says finally. “Lots to discuss.”
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