And I don’t really understand how all of these things can be considered on the same level. Joining a gang means killing people—obviously that’s bad. But dressing immodestly? How is that even in the same conversation?
The group has exhausted its devil-avoiding list, but Mr. Martin still has some ideas of his own to add.
“Halloween, pop music, sex on television…our culture has become so submerged in evil that half the time we don’t even realize it. Take Harry Potter, for example.”
Matthew and I exchange a wide-eyed can you believe this? look. Mr. Martin has really lost it now. How could cute little Harry Potter possibly be bad? Things just elevated to a whole new level of crazy.
“Harry Potter is luring innocent children to witchcraft and the occult,” he explains. “It teaches that you can leave the world of structure, safety, and family and go to a place where the rules don’t apply, where you can get whatever you want—as long as you access dark magic.” Mr. Martin shakes his head in dismay. “How many of you have read the Harry Potter series or seen the movies?”
Almost all of us raise our hands.
“And I’ll bet you never realized how it was corrupting you,” he says.
No one responds, but there are a few shrugs and headshakes. Matthew’s whole body shakes with silent laughter.
Then, suddenly, the silence is broken ever so slightly by Daniel, who whispers something down at his desk. I don’t think Mr. Martin hears way up at the front of the room, but those of us near Daniel turn our heads.
“What was that, Daniel?” Matthew asks.
Daniel looks up. His eyes widen when he sees so many of us looking at him. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Never mind.”
“No, you said something,” Matthew presses. “If you have something to say, you should say it.”
“What’s going on back there?” Mr. Martin asks.
“Daniel has something to say,” Matthew announces.
Daniel’s face is the darkest shade of red I’ve ever seen it. “No, I don’t.”
Mr. Martin smiles. “Please, Daniel, if you have something to add, we’d love to hear it.”
Of course he wants to hear it—Daniel always agrees with him. If it were Matthew who had something to say though, I doubt he’d be so encouraging.
Daniel stares down at his desk. “Well…I was just wondering…if…” His voice is low, but it easily carries through the small, silent room. “Well, if you’ve ever read Harry Potter.”
“No, I must say I haven’t,” Mr. Martin says confidently. “I practice what I preach, of course.”
“Oh,” Daniel says. “Well, I don’t think it’s what you think.”
Everyone in the room is rapt with attention now, leaning in a little closer, craning their necks a little further. All eyes and ears are on Daniel.
“Oh? Please, explain,” Mr. Martin says, his voice still as sturdy as ever, but his smile beginning to falter slightly.
“Well, I actually think it’s a pretty Christian story. There’re a lot of parallels between Harry’s story and Jesus’s.”
Whoa. Daniel is standing up to Mr. Martin!
“How so, Daniel?” Mr. Martin says, his tone turning sour.
“It’s all about sacrifice and good winning out over evil and finding your faith, you know? And there are even Bible verses on Harry’s parents’ tombstones: ‘The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death,’ which is from first Corinthians chapter fifteen, verse twenty-six, and ‘Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,’ which Jesus says in Matthew six, verse twenty-one.” Daniel’s confidence is growing now—he’s looking directly at Mr. Martin. “And of course, one of the main themes in The Deathly Hallows is resurrection.”
Mr. Martin swallows, and the muscles in his neck strain against his skin. “Thank you, Daniel. You’ve been very informative.” He manages a small smile. “That’s all for now, everyone. Please proceed to the dining cabin for lunch. Oh, and Matthew, may I see you in my office, please?”
“Now?” Matthew asks, surprised.
“Yes. Now.”
***
Matthew fills us in on what happened with Mr. Martin during leisure hours that night. The Monopoly board is set up between us, but it’s going largely ignored.
“He said that he was trying to give me time to adapt to being at New Horizons, but that by this point, my ‘attitude’ really should have ‘adjusted’ by now, and that he’s going to be a lot less tolerant of my ‘insolent behavior’ from now on.” He looks at Daniel. “Basically, he thinks I’m a bad influence on you.”
“I’m so sorry,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
Matthew shakes his head. “Forget it. I can handle that asshole. And anyway, I’m the one who owes you an apology. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.” But after a pause, he says, “But it was pretty great.” He grins at Daniel.
Daniel smiles too, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I can’t believe I did that. Mr. Martin is just trying to help us, and I was so disrespectful.”
“No, you weren’t,” I say. “You were perfectly respectful. You didn’t raise your voice or anything. You just disagreed with what he was saying. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“But I shouldn’t be disagreeing with him in the first place,” Daniel says. “I’m here to learn from him. He won his fight with SSA. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Daniel, I really don’t think disagreeing with Mr. Martin about the merits of Harry Potter is going to be the thing that stops you from getting what you want,” I say gently. And that gets me thinking again about how some of us will get what we want and others won’t. I hope Daniel’s in the former category. I don’t know what category Carolyn’s in. I’m in the latter category, but no one will ever know that.
Because really, the only difference between someone who succeeds at the de-gayifying—like Kaylee—and someone who just pretends to succeed at it—like me—is the happiness level of that person. The rest of it—the hard work, the commitment, the actively pushing back against your nature—is all the same. It’s just that, for me, I imagine the “diet” will be a lot more like starvation.
Well, that’s depressing.
I look around the rec cabin. Kaylee, John, and Deb, the counselors who used to struggle with SSA, are all here tonight. Why are they capable of this and I’m not? What do they have that I don’t?
Somewhere along the way in my wandering, rambling thoughts, my gaze lands on Matthew as he confidently rolls the dice and gets the Monopoly game started.
There is one other possibility I haven’t considered…
What if the de-gayifying doesn’t work at all? What if the success stories are all lies?
Mr. Martin and his ten-year marriage to Nancy. Kaylee and her decision to work at New Horizons after going through the program herself. Daniel’s friend Peter and Counselor John and Marilynn Chaney’s grandnephew and the countless, nameless others…have they all made the same choice I have? Are they all faking it?
Or maybe they’ve been telling the lie so long that they’ve started to believe it themselves.
I lower my head and rest my cheek on the tabletop. The only thing I know for sure is there are a hell of a lot more questions than answers. And when it comes down to it, that’s like knowing nothing at all.
Chapter 21
Mr. Martin announces the next morning that we’re going to get the chance to leave the camp that night.
“It’s just for a couple of hours,” he says, but the qualification doesn’t matter. Civilization! We’re finally going to get to dip our toes back in the real world, where things like cell phones and the Internet exist, and where the adults wear clothes besides pink and blue T-shirts!
“Where are we going?” Jasmine asks.
“You are going…on dates!” Mr. Martin
declares.
My mouth falls open.
“Dates?” someone asks. I’m too stunned to pay attention to who it is. “With who?”
“With a member of your group, of course!”
I immediately glance at Carolyn. The second our eyes meet, her face turns beet red and she turns away.
Matthew smirks and shakes his head. “Oh yeah, right,” he whispers to me.
“Most of you probably don’t have much experience dating a member of the opposite sex,” Mr. Martin continues, “so we’re giving you a chance to practice. Brianna will pair you up.”
An excited buzz spreads across the carpet cabin as Brianna makes her way from group to group, splitting us up into couples.
But the four of us just stare at each other. I look from Matthew to Daniel and back to Matthew again. Which one of them will I be “dating” tonight? I can’t imagine going out with either of them. It’s just too weird.
Finally Brianna gets to us and she wastes no time splitting us up. “Matthew and Carolyn. Alexis and Daniel.” Then she moves on.
I look at Daniel. He’s not just my first boy date; he’s my first date, period. Somehow, when I used to imagine what my first date would be like, the image of this scrawny boy never came into the picture. But I guess I should know by now that things never work out the way you plan. He smiles shyly at me.
Matthew and Carolyn are dancing around on the carpet arm-in-arm, doing some kind of jitterbug/waltz thing. He dips her and she giggles hysterically. A searing blade of jealousy rips through me. “We are going to have a delightful evening together, my dear,” Matthew says in a suave, old-timey movie star accent.
“Okay, everyone, settle down,” Mr. Martin calls out once all the couples are arranged. “Here’s what’s going to happen. There are seven counselors and eight couples, so with the exception of one group of four, each couple will be paired with one chaperone. Your destinations have been prearranged, and you will each be going somewhere different. You are expected to be on your best behavior the entire evening, and all camp rules will still apply.”
He runs down the list of rules again and then pairs us each up with a counselor and a destination.
Daniel and I are going with Barbara to dinner at a local Italian restaurant and the 7:00 showing of some PG movie about a high school prom.
At 5:00, we all meet in the main cabin lobby, freshly showered and made up, dressed in our finest date clothes. I’m wearing a floor-length gauzy white skirt and a simple black tank top, with a scarf tied around my hair like a headband. Daniel is wearing khakis and a button-down shirt. His hair is neatly combed, and it looks like he put some sort of gel in it. The poor kid actually looks nervous.
I take his arm. “Don’t worry,” I whisper as we make our way to the bus. “We’ll have fun.”
The bus drops off Jasmine and Chris, who are being chaperoned by Kaylee, and then Matthew and Carolyn, who are stuck with Brianna for the evening. Then Daniel, Barbara, and I arrive at Vincenzo’s, which, if the sign in the window is to be believed, has the best meatballs this side of the Atlantic Ocean.
Barbara goes to speak with the hostess, and a few minutes later, Daniel and I are shown to a booth. Barbara gets her own table a few yards away. It’s 5:30 on a Tuesday, so the only other people in the restaurant are old people here for the early-bird special and families with screaming kids, but it’s still amazing to be out in the real world again.
We spend a few minutes looking at the menu and another minute giving our orders to the waitress. She looks at us curiously, and I wonder what Barbara told her about us.
But then she leaves and it’s just the two of us. Me and Daniel. Sitting across from each other. On a date. And it’s really weird.
Daniel keeps fidgeting with his place setting, straightening out his silverware and aligning his napkin and placemat with the edges of the table.
I pick at a piece of bread.
What are we supposed to talk about?
“So…what did you order again?” I say, because the silence is killing me.
“Chicken parm,” he says. “What did you get?”
“Spinach ravioli.” After another pause, I add, “I guess one of us should have gotten the meatballs.”
Daniel makes a face. “There’s no way this place has the best meatballs in America.”
I laugh. “I know, right? Who are they kidding? They have crayons on the table.”
Daniel smiles. “And they spelled lasagna wrong.”
“They did? I didn’t even notice that! I was too distracted by the dried glob of ketchup on my menu.”
Daniel laughs and reaches for a piece of bread. He smiles at me as he chews.
I glance at Barbara—she’s at her table, sipping a glass of red wine, reading a book. “What do you think her deal is?” I ask, nodding my head in her direction.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s got to be at least seventy, right?”
“I guess.”
“So what do you think she’s doing here? Shouldn’t she be off spoiling her grandkids or living it up in some retirement community or something?”
Daniel gives me a stern look. “She’s here to help us, Lexi.”
“Oh. Right.” I nod. “I know, I just meant…never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Daniel studies me. “You don’t agree with all that stuff that Matthew said, do you?” he asks quietly. “About New Horizons being a waste of time?”
I meet his eyes. “No,” I say after a minute. “Of course not.”
He looks relieved and goes back to sipping his soda.
Time for a change of subject. “So what do you like to do back home, Daniel?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Oh come on, there’s got to be something. Some hobby or something?”
“Well…I like to read.”
“Me too. Ever read Harry Potter?”
He looks up at me, confused. “Don’t you remember—”
I burst out laughing at his bewildered expression. “That was a joke. Sorry. I guess it wasn’t very funny.”
“Oh.” His face slowly breaks into a grin. “No, it was funny. I’ve never been very good at picking up on jokes and stuff.”
“That’s okay. So, you like to read…?”
“Yeah. Mostly fantasy books.”
“Oh, cool.”
“Have you ever read the Flame Hunter series?”
“No. What’s it about?”
“You have to read it, Lexi. It’s so good. It’s about this world where all the light has been extinguished. The sun has burned out, and there’s no such thing as electricity, and the use of fire is regulated by the emperor.” He leans forward eagerly. “And there’s this band of people called the Flame Hunters who track down the last Sparks left in the world and distribute them to the poor people who can’t afford to pay the emperor’s prices. But what they’re doing is the most illegal crime possible, so they’re always on the run from the emperor’s henchmen and in a constant state of danger.”
“Wow,” I say. “Sounds complicated.”
“Nah, not really. It’s all explained really well in book one.”
“How many books are there?” I ask.
“Nine so far, but there’s another one coming out in a few months. I pre-ordered it.” There’s a glimmer of real joy in Daniel’s eyes.
I smile.
Daniel goes on and on about the illicit love affair between Princess Thenbie and the Flame Hunter leader Dominic Archer, and I just sit back and listen, happy he’s happy.
“So what about you? What do you like to do?” he asks just as the food arrives. It’s steaming hot and smells incredible. Maybe we underestimated this place. Or maybe we’re just really sick of Mrs. Wykowski’s dining cabin food.
I take a bite of ravioli. “Oh
my God, that’s good,” I say through a mouth full of cheese and spinach and sauce. “How’s yours?”
“Delicious,” Daniel says. “Want to share?”
“Ooh yeah, good idea!” We split our food in half and swap portions. We eat in silence for a while, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. It’s not until my plate is nearly empty that I remember our conversation. “Oh, so to answer your question, I really like drawing—designing clothes and stuff.”
Daniel nods. “I know—I’ve seen you at the arts and crafts table. You’re really good.”
“Thanks.”
He smiles. I smile back. But then he doesn’t take his eyes away. He just keeps smiling and staring at me way past the socially acceptable amount of time, and it’s starting to get awkward and I have to look away. I check my watch, just for somewhere to look, and I’m surprised to find that it’s already 6:30.
“We have to get to the movie,” I say and push my plate away.
Barbara pays our bills and makes a quick phone call. A few minutes later, a taxi pulls up in front of the restaurant and drives us to the movie theater.
The movie is really dumb and the theater is really cold. Daniel notices me shivering and puts his arm around me.
Then about halfway through the movie, just as the kids start doing some big dance that somehow everyone in the school knows the moves to, he reaches over and takes my hand.
This is not just a friendly hand-holding. His hand is shaking—with nervousness?—and he grasps my fingers tightly, giving them a little squeeze every now and then. I don’t understand it, and I sure as hell don’t like it.
I look at him and I can just make out his smile in the flickering light of the movie screen.
I don’t know what to do. I want to pull my hand away, to demand to know what he’s thinking and storm out of the theater. But if I freak out, Barbara will know I’m not giving this whole “date” thing my all, and it will get back to Mr. Martin, and then he won’t be able to tell my mother that I was a perfect student. Plus, I don’t want to embarrass Daniel or hurt his feelings. He clearly is giving the date thing his all, and I don’t want to ruin it for him.
The Summer I Wasn't Me Page 15
