by Jillian Dodd
“I’m sure it’s always a balancing act between being present for your significant other, providing for one another, and doing what you love.”
“That’s a very mature statement, Camille,” Diego says, impressed. “Finding that balance is important, as is finding that special someone to be your partner in life and to love and support all you do. It’s a beautiful thing,” he says, emotionally, causing Camille to put her hand over her heart and practically swoon. But then he glances back at me and gives me a smirk. Oh, he is so messing with me. Clearly, I need to have another chat with him, because I’m not interested in Camille. Period.
I glance at her. Now her eyes have tears in them. “That is exactly the kind of love I want, where I feel completely understood and accepted.”
“You’ll find that,” I tell her sincerely as Diego winks at me.
“I hope so,” she says, turning toward me. I reach out to wipe a stray tear off her face. “Have you ever been in love?”
I take a deep breath, realizing that is why Diego winked at me. It wasn’t just the fact that I was in her tent. He’s been observing us this whole time. How we’ve gone from pretty much hating each other—to becoming . . . friends.
“Honestly, no,” I say, keeping my voice low so only she can hear. “I’ve had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious. What about you?” My heart nearly stops beating when I realize I don’t already know the answer to this question. She must have a boyfriend. I mean, she’s beautiful.
“I’m not dating anyone right now.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I dated a guy for most of high school who I thought I was in love with, but looking back it was more like puppy love. It wasn’t the kind of deep, lasting love Diego was talking about. It was more about having a boyfriend. It made me feel like I was cool and special. And it was fun. I had a group of girls that I hung out with, and we all dated guys from the closest all-boys school.”
“I’m sure that was fun, having a big group of friends like that. Do you still see them all?” I ask, wondering if she is still close to the guy.
“Not as much. We all went to different colleges, but I’m still close to my roommate, Lexington, and also a girl named Victoria.”
“What happened to the guy?”
She shrugs. “He’s still in the city. Lexi saw him just the other night when she was out and was telling me how cute he looked.”
“Do you still like him?”
Her gaze meets mine. “No, he’s not the guy for me,” she states. “So, why bother?”
“Yeah. Why bother?” I can’t help but grin.
Camille
After a long drive, we finally pull up in front of a red-roofed, small yellow building. Diego parks the bus, and we get out and unload our bags. I stop and take a look around, noticing the lush tropical plants of the hotel’s landscaping.
Diego checks us in then says, “Alright, you can follow me up to your rooms.” He leads us back around the main building to a pool surrounded by about a dozen smaller cabanas with red tile roofs that match the main building. Diego glances at his watch. “Why don’t you get settled and meet back in the lobby in thirty minutes. Then we’ll join up with our group and have lunch.”
“Yay! I have time to shower. What should I wear on our hike?”
“Wear hiking boots, for sure. It’s warm, so a t-shirt and shorts would be good. We have to walk through a tropical forest area before getting to the top, so it will be a little muggy. Bring bug spray, a raincoat, and a bottle of water.”
“Wow!” I say, looking up in awe. “I didn’t even notice the volcano from the main building. It’s beautiful.” Between us and the volcano there is a flat area filled with tropical plants and palms. There are green rolling hills surrounding the volcano.
“It’s breathtaking,” Adam agrees, his words oozing with appreciation. I can tell he can’t wait to capture it in photographs.
“Are we really going to climb to the top of that? It’s huge!”
Diego smiles with pride. “It is a looker. We are going to drive part of the way up to the hiking trail, so you won’t be starting from all the way down here.” He hands us each a key. “Alright, Camille, you and Adam are in bungalow six. I’ll let you decide which room you want, A or B. I’m in seven B, if you need anything.”
“Sounds good,” Adam says as we walk onto the porch of our cute little bungalow.
I open my door and check out the accommodations. There are two beds separated by a nightstand, one queen and one twin with white sheets pulled tightly across them. The floor is covered in a terra-cotta tile, and the ceiling features beautiful rustic beams. There is little decor except for a picture of a flower hanging on the white wall and a lamp on the nightstand. I lay out my suitcase on the twin and flop down onto the queen bed. It feels amazing! Oh, how I missed a bed. Although, I will admit, sleeping on Adam’s chest was pretty darn comfortable.
I get up and pull open the curtains, knowing if I want to shower and freshen up I can’t just lie here, regardless of how good it feels. The view outside is gorgeous. I’m seriously in the middle of a forest. I mean, I don’t really want to go out in it alone or without bug spray, but I can certainly appreciate the view.
I shower off quickly and get changed. I have the cutest outfit picked out—khaki shorts, hiking boots, and a short-sleeved floral top. The top dances that fine line between adorable and ugly, and is one of my favorite thrift store finds. I throw my hair into a low bun and then top it off with a safari-inspired hat. I tuck my shirt in, add a brown woven belt, and throw on some makeup. I go with a natural look for hiking since I’m sure it will be hot out and decide on waterproof mascara since Diego told us to bring our raincoats. Once Henri is all packed, I head out the door to find Adam sitting on a bench across from our rooms, fidgeting with his camera. He is wearing a light green, short-sleeved field shirt with khaki pants tucked into his hiking boots. His hair looks darker than usual and, upon further inspection, I see that it’s still wet from a shower.
“Hey,” I say, as my door slams shut behind me.
He looks up at me and a smile pulls at his mouth. “I like the outfit,” he says, standing up and slinging his camera over his head.
“You do? Oh, I’m so glad! I really wanted to get that tropical safari feel. I found this shirt at a thrift shop and just knew it would be perfect for today.” I’m way too excited. I can’t help it, though. I love when someone notices the effort I put into my outfits.
“You two ready to go?” Diego asks us, coming out of his room.
“I am!” I say excitedly. “Adam?”
“Yeah, I’m good to go.”
We follow Diego back to the bus, and as Adam and I walk next to each other, I take note of our outfits.
“You know, we kind of match,” I whisper to him.
“Just like an old married couple,” Diego says with a laugh.
Adam looks horrified by the comment, which sort of upsets me.
“We’re going just a few miles away, to a picnic area where we will meet up with the rest of our group for lunch,” Diego tells us as we get into the bus.
“I can’t wait,” I say excitedly as my stomach growls. “They were so nice. It will be fun to get to spend some more time with them.”
“It will be nice,” Adam says. “Although, I think you’re more excited about getting lunch than anything else.”
“Shush. I’m fine,” I lie, but the second we get to the picnic area I am scanning the place for food.
Adam
I take in the sight of the volcano in front of me. It really is majestic. It towers over me and the picnic area that Manuel has set up for us. Walking into the covered pergola, there are six picnic tables, three of which are covered in red checkered tablecloths. Laid out across one of them are bags of chips, pre-made sandwiches, a tub of beans, a tub of potato salad, and rice pudding for dessert. Camille is too busy eyeing the food to notice the little boy running up to her.
“Camille! Camille! You’r
e back!” He wraps his arms around her waist in a hug.
“Jimmy, how are you? Look at all this food. Are you excited to go hiking?” She looks just as excited as he is.
Jimmy looks between her, the food, and the volcano, not sure which question to answer first. Finally, he says, “I am so excited. We’re going to climb over all the rocks at the top. I hope we get to see lava!”
His mother walks up behind Jimmy and says, “Why don’t you have Papa help you make a plate?”
“Okay.”
“Hi, I’m Vivianne,” the woman says to me. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Jimmy’s mom.” She is tall, lean, and has shoulder-length blonde hair.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Adam. Have you met Camille?” I ask, motioning toward her.
“Of course. We met the day we arrived,” Vivianne says with a smile. “How has your trip been so far, darling?” she asks, pulling Camille into a hug.
“It’s been wonderful,” Camille lies. Well, I think she lies. Maybe once a girl has a meltdown she really does forget all the bad stuff. “We went snorkeling and got to see manatees. I can’t wait to tell you all about it,” she gushes as if she’s talking to an old friend.
“That all sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to hear about it all,” she says, leaving us when Jimmy calls out her name.
“I didn’t realize you knew everyone already,” I say to Camille.
“We all talked on our first night, and I was so excited about our trip I told them everything. I barely could contain myself. They’re such a great family. Have you been introduced to everyone yet?”
“I’ve met Vivianne, Earl, and Jimmy so far.”
“Over there is Jimmy’s dad, Floyd,” she says, pointing to a man with light brown hair. He has stubble across his face and is wearing a belt with a massive, shiny buckle. “And that is Nancy, Vivianne’s sister. And Earl is their father.” It’s easy to see the family resemblance. Nancy has the same bright blonde hair as her sister.
“I’m excited to get to meet and talk with them all,” I tell her as Diego pushes us forward toward the food.
“Come on you two, dig in,” he says, doing the same. I grab a couple sandwiches and some beans, while Camille piles on a little bit of everything.
After we’ve all finished eating, Manuel gathers us around.
“Make sure you refill your water and use the restrooms before we head out. There are four main trails we can take up the volcano, but we are going to be taking the Los Heliconias trail to the top. This trail allows us a view of both the volcano and Lake Arenal. It’s a short half mile to the main trail then a mile to the lookout.”
Jimmy squeals with excitement and jumps up and down. “That’s where we get to see the big rocks, right?”
“Yes, but you have to be careful. The rocks get loose, so you’ll always want to be aware of your footing,” Manuel replies.
I hear Vivianne say, “Jimmy, let’s use the restroom before we head out for our hike, okay?”
“Alright, Mom,” he huffs. I can tell he is ready to go now.
“So, are you ready?” I say, turning to Camille, who is sitting down on the picnic bench next to me.
“Now that I’m full, yes. I can’t wait to see the view from the top. I bet it will be gorgeous.”
We take turns in the loo, fill up our water bottles, and head out on the first trail.
This trail is clear, but the foliage is thick and quite dense. I often have to push leaves out of my way to get through. The air seems heavier here, and it’s harder to breathe. Because the path is narrow, we’re walking single file. I’m right behind Camille, who has her camera out and is snapping pictures of nearly everything we pass.
Her style of photography is a little different than mine. She doesn’t want to miss a single thing, while I am looking for the perfect small details. While I love landscape photos, I find the photos where I’ve focused on a single object seem to turn out the best. I’m good at noticing the details others may not.
Right now, I’m noticing some very specific details—like the tread Camille’s hiking boots imprint in the dirt with each step she takes, the sheen of sweat on the back of her neck, the perfect copper color of her shapely legs, and the way her shorts cling to her body.
Manuel’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “We are currently going through a secondary rainforest. In about a half a mile, we will get to the former lava fields and lookout.”
Camille turns toward me, fanning her face with her hand. Her cheeks are flushed and a bead of sweat trickles down the side of her face. “I’m glad I wore shorts. I’m burning up! You have on pants. Aren’t you dying?”
“It is warm, but I think it’s about to rain.” I look up at the sky through the thick trees above us. “The humidity is worse than it was before. Hopefully it will rain for a little, and the temperature will settle back down.”
Camille looks up at me through her lashes. “We’re both going to need showers again,” she says, and for a brief moment I wonder if it’s an invite to join her. But then she splashes me with cold water and giggles. I blush, somehow worried she knows what I was thinking.
“That feels good,” I say with a laugh, welcoming the water.
“Everyone, gather around!” Manuel shouts as the path widens. We do as he asks, noticing that he and Diego are staring at the ground.
“What are we supposed to be looking at?” Camille asks, her eyes scanning the ground, trying to find the source of Manuel’s excitement.
“Ants. Leaf cutter ants, specifically. Did you notice that the leaves are moving?”
Camille grabs my hand and pulls me to the edge of the path, pointing down at the tiny little ants each carrying a leaf. It’s like the ground is made up of a sea of moving leaves.
“Leaf cutter ants are able to carry a leaf three times their weight, and their colonies can number in the millions. I know there are numerous other things to be on the lookout for, but I just wanted to stop and point them out,” Manuel says.
“What other things should we be looking for?” Camille asks as we all start walking again.
“Well, the park is part of a corridor between the Caribbean and Pacific and within the park there is diverse wildlife. Costa Rica is home to over eight hundred bird species, most of which can be found within the park. Some animals you might see include tapirs, howler monkeys, parrots, toucans, the poisonous fer-de-lance snake, and the elusive quetzal bird, which is endangered. There are also jaguars and pumas. There are 2,987 species of plants. Some plants you might recognize are laurel, orchids, and ferns.”
“Jaguars?” Camille squeals, her mouth gaping open. “Diego, how is this safe? Why wouldn’t you tell us about them before now?”
“Trust me, you have to go far off the beaten path to encounter them,” Diego says with a soothing smile. “You are safe on the trail.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Camille says to no one in particular, and I can tell she’s freaking herself out.
We walk a few more feet then come out of the forest, finding a stone path leading up to the large rocks. Manuel is climbing over the rocks and already halfway to the top.
“We can’t climb that, can we? It looks completely unsafe.”
“Tons of people use this trail, and they wouldn’t take us anywhere that wasn’t safe,” I say, pushing her forward. “Look, Jimmy is already up top with Manuel and his mum.”
“They’re a little scary,” she huffs under her breath. But then she gets a determined look on her face and makes her way up the stones. At first, her legs are a little shaky, but very quickly she gets the hang of it, and pretty soon she’s at the top, standing tall and taking in the view.
“Wow,” I say, inadequately describing the view I see as I join her. Everything is glowing green, and there is a huge lake down in the midst of all the tropical plants. The rocks surrounding us are a dark black, and this must be the lava field Manuel told us about.
“I’ve never seen rocks so black,” Camille says, as
she walks steadily across them until we reach a flat stone surface. I pull out my camera and take a photo of the lake, which is larger than I’d expected.
“The Arenal Volcano is over five thousand feet tall. We are in the Arenal Volcano National Park which is part of the eight-hundred square mile Arenal Conservation Area. The park also contains another volcano named Cerro Chato, which has been inactive for around thirty-five hundred years,” Manuel explains. “And down there is Lake Arenal, which lies at the base of the Volcano. It produces some of the country’s electricity, and is loved by local fisherman because of its beautiful and edible stock of rainbow bass.”
Camille takes a photo of the view while the Johnsons get together for a family photo. I sit down on the rock and scroll through the photos I’ve taken so far, and realize I haven’t gotten one of Camille up here yet.
“Camille, stand up on one of the rocks so I can take your photo.”
Of course, she does, cheesing for the camera and happily holding her arms out wide in the air, like look at me, world.
I get a bunch of cute photos of her then Manuel tells us that it’s time to head back. He thinks if we leave now we might miss the storm visibly brewing above.
Camille
“Ahh!” I yell as it starts to downpour.
“Grab your raincoat,” Adam says, pulling his out of his backpack and holding it over both our heads. We have a little moment, standing in the pouring rain, his jacket over our heads but still getting soaked. I gaze into his eyes, thinking what a sweet gesture it is. He holds my gaze, staring at me with equal intensity. If my life were like one of the romance novels I read, this would be where the characters would kiss. That perfect romantic kiss in the pouring rain.
“Why are you just standing there?” Jimmy yells, slapping Adam in the butt as he zooms by us, his arms out like an airplane. “I love the rain!”
