Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe

by Sarah Mlynowski

“But you were spending time with me,” he says. “And it’s only the first few days.”

  “I guess,” I say. “She had to unpack the kids without me.”

  “Just bring her some cupcakes,” he says. “She’ll forgive you.”

  “I’m not sure where I would find cupcakes,” I say. “So what’s the hostel like?”

  “It’s like the dorms, but grungier.”

  “Sounds . . . gross?”

  “Yeah. It’s fine. It was cheap at least.”

  “What did you do today?”

  “Took the train from the airport. Dropped my bag off. Wandered around in the heat. Took an epic nap.” He yawns in my ear.

  “How was the flight?”

  “Fine. Watched a movie and passed out.”

  We stay on the phone, trading stories, until Eric comes over the loudspeaker.

  “Attention, all staff. Attention, all staff. It is now the end of Rest Hour. Please go . . . um . . . unpack.”

  “What was that?” Eli asks.

  “Announcement. I have to go.”

  “I should shower anyway. When will we talk next?”

  “I’ll text you tonight, and will call around this time tomorrow? Good?”

  “Yup. Not sure where I’ll be, but I’ll have my phone on me and I spent extra to have the best possible international plan.”

  “Okay. Good. I miss you. Have fun with Yosef. But not too much fun,” I add.

  He laughs.

  “Have fun with the EpiPens,” he says. “But not too much fun.”

  I head back to the cabin and unpack the last kid.

  Their clothes are little and adorable. The mini Converse are my favorite.

  After dinner with Talia and Lis—Janelle is MIA—I change into my bathrobe, put on my flip-flops, grab a towel and my soap bucket, and head to the showers.

  I climb the steps very, very carefully.

  The shower room is pretty much how I remember it. It’s a wooden cabin aboveground. There’s a bathroom stall in the front, and then ten shower stalls in total, five on either side. Each stall has a yellow shower curtain, and I yank mine open.

  I let the hot water blast over me. At least there’s hot water in here. I don’t think I could handle six weeks of cold showers.

  It feels good to have a minute alone. I wonder what Eli’s doing.

  “Sam?” I hear Talia say. “You here? You almost done?”

  I jump. Guess I’m not alone.

  “Five minutes!” I say. “You should go ahead!” I would prefer to walk down by myself this first time.

  “We’ll wait for you!” Lis shouts back.

  Crap. I hurry up and turn off the water. I wrap myself in my towel, dry off, then wrap it around my head and slip into my bathrobe.

  I grab my stuff, and carefully—very carefully—walk down the stairs.

  “You okay?” Lis asks me. “You’re walking like a weirdo.”

  “I . . . I don’t want to trip.”

  “You guys, when I was a camper there was this one girl who fell and then . . .” She stops mid-step. “OMG. Was that you? That was you, wasn’t it? You’re Porny!”

  Of course the name is coming out just as I’m standing on the stairs. It’s like my childhood nightmares are coming true, and I’m powerless to stop them.

  “Porny?” Talia asks.

  Shit. What happens now?

  “I tripped on the stairs,” I say. “I flashed everyone.”

  “And Zoe Buckman took it from there,” Lis finishes for me.

  “She did,” I say. “Could we not spread my former nickname around camp? It wasn’t my favorite.”

  “No kidding,” Talia says. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell. As long as you’re nice to us.”

  “That was super creepy,” I say.

  “I was joking!” she cries.

  I blink. Hmm, why do I only kind of believe her?

  “I need something that rhymes with wet your bed,” Muffs, still wearing his earmuffs, says.

  “No bed-wetting jokes, please,” Danish says.

  We’re back in the Dining Hall, and we’re divided by cabin. We are each supposed to rewrite a verse from the song “A Whole New World” from Aladdin to make the junior section song. Right beside us is Gavin and Muff’s table. I’m still annoyed by Muff’s comment at the lake. I know he’s wrong, obviously, but still. It’s possible to stay in a relationship if you’re at camp. Of course it is.

  “You ready, Bunk Six?” she asks.

  Lis whoops. So far she hasn’t mentioned my old nickname, thank goodness. Neither has Talia.

  We have the first verse. I feel nervous.

  We all stand up. Janelle, our transcriber, holds the paper in front of us and we sing.

  “We can show you Blue Springs

  The lake, your bunk, a can-oooooe.

  C’mon, juniors, it’s time for you to

  Have the best of times.”

  Everyone cheers.

  Not a Grammy winner, but it will hopefully do?

  “Wahoo!” Janelle cries.

  When the song is over, Danish instructs us to head over to the CL—the Counselors’ Lounge—to watch a movie.

  “What’s the movie?” Lis asks.

  “Wet Hot American Summer,” Danish tells us.

  “Fitting,” Muffs says.

  We all file down out the back door and climb down the stairs. It’s dark out already, and there’s a chill in the air, so I zip up my fleece sweatshirt.

  “Maybe I’ll stop at the office first,” I say. “For Wi-Fi.”

  “I’ll show you where to go,” Gavin says.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  We all walk together past the lake and up the hill. Talia starts humming the tune to “A Whole New World.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” JJ says.

  “No one will tell us no, or where to go!”

  “Or say we’re only dreaming,” Lis finishes.

  “Maybe we should ask to watch Aladdin instead,” Muffs says.

  “Yes!” Lis says. “We totally should.”

  “I know all the words to ‘Let It Go,’” Janelle says. “My half sister, Michelle, is a big Frozen fan.” She turns to Muffs. “Did I tell you about my half sister?”

  We come to a fork in the road.

  “We go this way,” Gavin tells me.

  “See you guys soon,” I tell the girls.

  Gavin and I continue up the hill.

  “Texting your girlfriend?” I ask him.

  “I am,” he says. “How did you know I had a girlfriend? It’s not written on my forehead, is it?”

  “It totally is,” I say. “In big black letters. I think Muffs did it while you were sleeping.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest,” he says. “He has already written his name on every surface of the cabin.”

  “Lis too! I know about your girlfriend because Muffs gave me a hard time at the beach. About having a boyfriend. Oh, wait—he said they’re together! Well, not really together, but your girlfriend is in Europe too.”

  “Yep. Both of our significant others are off in Europe, while here we are, together, walking in the moonlight.” Gavin smiles. He looks like the bad-but-lovable character in a TV show. He’s definitely the hottest guy at camp.

  “Is your guy in Paris?” he asks.

  “Not Paris,” I say. “Or I should say, not just Paris. He’s backpacking. Currently in Rome. What’s your girlfriend doing in Paris?”

  “She’s working at an art gallery.”

  “Wow. Impressive.”

  “Yeah. She’s living there for the summer.”

  “You didn’t want to go too?”

  “I mean, yeah, sure, I would have gone to Paris. I’ve never been to Europe. But I’ve been coming here forever. And I don’t think her parents would have loved it if I’d crashed at her place the whole summer.”

  “Got it,” I say.

  “What about you? How come you ended up back here instead of backpacking through Eur
ope?”

  “I wasn’t invited,” I say. “He went with his cousin. I couldn’t have afforded it anyway. I already have a ton of debt from school.”

  “Well, they’re in Europe, and we’re not. Big deal. Who needs macarons when you have mac and cheese?”

  I laugh. “Exactly. I love camp mac and cheese.”

  “Me too. You missed it yesterday, but it was super cheesy with just the right amount of bread crumbs. Here we are.”

  We are suddenly standing outside the office.

  Oh well. I guess that’s the end of our conversation. Too bad. Maybe we’ll get to walk back together? Gavin’s just so nice to look at . . .

  I shake my thought off. Ha! Maybe my nickname should be Horny instead of Porny.

  Anyway, calling Eli. That’s why I’m here.

  “So where’s the Wi-Fi?” I ask.

  “We have to go inside,” he says.

  We climb up the three stairs and open the door.

  Eric the office guy is sprawled across the gray couch eating raisins. Very, verrrrrrry slowly.

  Oh, he is definitely stoned.

  I turn to see if Gavin is seeing this, but he’s already typing on his phone.

  “Network is CampBlueSprings?” I ask.

  “It’s . . . um . . . um . . .” It takes Eric a few seconds, but he eventually shares the password.

  I wait for my texts to download.

  One from Emily asking if I made it to camp.

  One from my mom asking if I’m having fun.

  Finally one from Eli:

  Hi! Going to bed. Yosef made it. We went to a bar. Italian drinks are strong. Love you. Good night, Beautiful.

  Oh wow, I miss him!

  I flip over to his Instagram account to see if he posted anything.

  Nothing. I write back:

  Hey babe! I misssssssssssss you. This time difference sucks. Wish you were awake! Wish you were here! Wish we were naked in your bed! Ignore that, I don’t want to get you all hot and bothered on the other side of the world.

  I look over to see if Gavin is still writing. But he’s looking at me. “Wanna walk back to the CL?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I say. “Give me one sec.”

  He nods.

  I look back down at my phone and type:

  I love you. Have fun!

  I slip my phone back into my sweater pocket. “Done,” I say. I turn to Eric. He is still eating slowly. “Enjoy the raisins.”

  Gavin snort-laughs.

  “How stoned was he?” Gavin asks as we head back to the CL. “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “Eleven,” I say. “Maybe twelve.”

  “I’m not into raisins, personally,” he says. “Grapes, yes. Raisins, no.”

  “Not even if they’re covered in chocolate?”

  “That’s a different situation entirely.”

  I laugh and then we’re both quiet for a few steps.

  “So how long have you and your girlfriend been together?” I ask.

  “Since February,” he says. “Not that long.”

  “You go to school together?”

  “Yeah. University of Maryland,” he says. “You?”

  “NYU.”

  “Kat is from New York,” he says. “She grew up in the city.”

  “Where?”

  “Upper East Side.”

  “I live downtown,” I say. I want him to know that I’m a downtown kind of girl, aka, fun and cool. Upper East Side girls are prim and proper. Or so the TV shows tell me.

  The CL is right in front of us.

  “I’m kind of excited to go in,” I admit.

  “To see the movie?”

  “No, I’ve seen the movie. To go into the CL! I was a camper here, but we were never allowed inside because it was the—”

  “Counselors’ Lounge.”

  “Right. So what happens in there exactly?”

  “Oh, it’s magical.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  “There are strobe lights. And trampolines. And secret passageways.”

  “I knew there’d be secret passageways! Do they go right to the Dining Hall?”

  “Right to the kitchen. To the freezer where all the ice cream is.”

  “I had a feeling.”

  He smiles at me. “Should we go in?”

  “We should.”

  “I’m afraid you might be disappointed.”

  “Story of my life,” I say, and he opens the door for me.

  The lights are off and the movie is already on. There are no disco balls or trampolines. Probably no secret passageways, although I can’t say for sure. The paneling on the wall does look a little loose. It’s basically just a large room with a wood floor, a few rugs, and old couches. There’s a big TV against the far wall. Counselors are lying all over the place. There are two big bowls of popcorn in the back of the room and everyone has small cups of it.

  Talia waves to me and points to an empty spot next to her.

  “Have fun,” Gavin says to me. He opens the door.

  “You’re not staying?” I ask.

  “Nah. I’ve seen this.” He pushes the door and disappears.

  Hmm. Mysterious. I wonder where he’s going. I snake my way through the spread-out counselors and find my spot between Talia and Lis.

  It’s after midnight, and my face is washed and I’m in my pajamas and tucked into my covers. So are Lis and Talia. Janelle is in the cubby room. Our front door opens and there’s a knock next to the curtain. “Everyone decent?” It’s Botts’s voice.

  “Yes!” I say. “Come in!”

  Botts opens the curtain. He’s wearing a fleece sweater zipped up over his chin. He has a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, and he’s holding a big black flashlight.

  He plops down on the corner of my bed.

  “So how’re you holding up, Rosenspan?” he asks.

  “All good,” I say. “Were you in the CL?”

  “No, I had some admin stuff to do. But tell me about you. Are you glad you came back?”

  “So far,” I say. “It’s fun to see the magic behind the curtain. I didn’t realize how much work went into everything when I was a camper.”

  “Wait until the kids get here,” he says.

  “Right,” I say. It’s weird, because it feels like so much has already happened while the kids aren’t here. It’s like maybe, when you’re a counselor, the kids aren’t the only important part?

  Lis sits beside him. “You didn’t tell me she was Porny!”

  Ugh. Really?

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says with a shrug.

  Aw, what a sweetie.

  “How’s Janelle doing?” Botts motions his chin toward Janelle’s sleeping bag.

  “She’s nice,” I say. “How did she end up here? Are there always international staff members? Not that Canada is that international.”

  “A lot of camps have an exchange program with international students who want the experience. Plus, it’s a job. And they get to come to America. Everyone wins.”

  “Not everyone wins,” Lis says. “I don’t think Jelly uses deodorant.”

  My back stiffens. “She doesn’t smell. And we’re not calling her Jelly.” I turn back to Botts. “What do you do on rounds exactly? Chitchat with everyone?”

  “I check on everyone, but I only stop and chat with killer softball players I haven’t seen in eight years.”

  “What do you do if someone is missing?” I ask.

  “I find them,” he says. “But no one’s missing now, since they know I’m coming around. People sneak out later.”

  “Really?” I ask. “Where do they go?”

  “To hook up,” Lis says.

  “Where?” I ask. “There’s not much privacy in these rooms.”

  “That never stops anyone,” Botts says. “When we were CITs, Dee literally fell out of Baker’s top bunk with her bra half-on.”

  “Nip!” Lis cries out. “They all called her that.”

&nb
sp; “I never called her that,” Botts says.

  “Do we get a CIT?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “No,” he says. “We don’t have enough for everyone. And we can’t work them too hard because they pay to be here. And they’re barely in camp. They go on a lot of trips.”

  “Do we go on any trips?” I ask.

  “Just a canoe trip to New Beach.”

  Ugh. New Beach.

  The worst day ever.

  New Beach is actually part of camp property, but it’s across the lake, so you can take a boat there and make it seem like you’re actually going somewhere far away. Thank goodness it is actually in camp, because after Kara noticed that I had bled all over my sweatpants, and told Zoe, and all the girls started shrieking, “Porny is disgusting!” “Porny smells!” “Porny’s gross!” like a scene out of Carrie, my counselor Jennifer took me back to camp to shower, get a pad, and change clothes. We had to return to sleep at New Beach, though, and of course the rest of the girls were still up to whisper insults at me as the tent sagged above my head.

  I couldn’t do any water sports for the rest of the week. Jen offered to teach me how to use a tampon but I was too terrified.

  I can do without going back to New Beach. Ever.

  Janelle pushes the curtain open. “We have company!”

  Botts gives her a high five. “Janelle! I was about to send out a search party for you.”

  “Don’t be silly, I was just taking my time.”

  “I was telling them about your upcoming trip to New Beach,” he says.

  Her eyes widen in delight. “Nude Beach?”

  Lis snorts. “No! New Beach! New!”

  She laughs. “Nude Beach sounds more fun.”

  “It really does,” Botts says. He stands up. “All right, ladies, tomorrow is a big day. The kids arrive at noon. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

  He closes the door gently on his way out.

  Lis turns to me. “So, did you and Botts stay in touch?”

  “No, not at all,” I say. “But we were friends when I was here. He’s a nice guy.”

  She sighs. “He is, right?”

  Talia laughs. “Lis has had a crush on him forever!”

  “Ooooooh,” squeals Janelle.

  Lis turns bright red. “I have not!”

  “Have so!” Talia says. “Since you were like a junior, right?”

  “Okay, fine,” she says, biting her thumbnail. “Maybe a tiny crush.”

  “You guys would be cute together,” I say. “Do you want me to put out some feelers?” If I help her with Botts, maybe she’ll bury the Porny nickname somewhere deep.