Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe

by Sarah Mlynowski

  “There’s nothing to know, it’s perfectly innocent,” I say. “He even has a girlfriend!”

  “That’s why it’s so perfect,” Lis says. “He has a girlfriend and you have a boyfriend! You’re the only person he can flirt with without getting into trouble or giving anyone false hope. Last year he hooked up with three different girls, by the way. It must be killing him to stay loyal. But his girlfriend is gorgeous. She’s a ten, for real. And not just a camp ten, a real ten.”

  “How do you know what she looks like?” I ask, my voice low.

  “Um, Instagram,” Lis says. “Have you not looked at his pictures of her?”

  “No,” I say. But now I want to see them immediately.

  “She’s not hard to find. I follow him, and he tags her. Ergo I know who she is.” She pulls up his Instagram and hands me her phone. “That’s her.”

  Definitely gorgeous. Stick-straight light brown hair with blond highlights. Amazing cheek bones. Big eyes. Glam. Yep, a real ten.

  I spot Muffs and JJ returning to our table, and I quickly hand Lis back her phone.

  Even when I was a camper, everyone wanted to get to know Gavin. He was the guy all the girls thought was hot.

  And now that I know his girlfriend is gorgeous, for some reason, he is even hotter?

  The score is 5–7. It’s the ninth inning. We’re losing. And I’m at bat. Botts is on first. Janelle is on second. Brody is on third. We have two outs.

  I’ve had one walk so far, one out, and one ground ball. I haven’t played in a while. Since high school. Funny that Eli has never seen me play.

  “You can do it!” Botts screams. “Come on, Rosenspan! Take us home!”

  “Go, Sammy!” my girls scream from the bleachers.

  No pressure or anything.

  Smokin’ Hot Benji is pitching.

  He tosses the ball.

  I miss.

  “Strike one!” Josh says.

  Crap.

  He tosses the ball again.

  I miss again.

  “Strike two!”

  “You got this, Rosenspan!” Botts yells.

  I look up at Gavin. He makes a swinging motion.

  I got this.

  The ball sails toward me and I swing and this time I smash it! The ball goes sailing in the air right over Bunk 11!

  Everyone cheers and I run to first base, second base, third base, and home! I did it! I brought everyone home! Botts even dives into home right in front of me and then high-fives me as I step on the plate.

  “Impressive,” Gavin says, and our eyes lock. “Athletic and adorable. Quite a combo.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him. Then my campers jump all over me, shrieking and cheering. The eye contact is gone.

  “You’re in my boat,” Gavin tells me on Saturday morning when I bring my bunk down to the beach.

  I’m glad Talia and Lis are on their days off or they would totally say I told you so. Also they would call me out for putting eyeliner on before boating.

  Prague, Em, and Lily are in our boat too.

  “It’s a perfect day for sailing,” Gavin says as I sit down beside him.

  He says the same thing every time.

  I laugh. “But there’s no wind!”

  He shrugs. “Still a good day for sailing. Sun. Water. A boat. Good company. What more could you want? I’m going to teach you how to jib the boat today,” he says.

  “I don’t know what that means . . . but it sounds kind of dirty,” I say, lowering my voice.

  He laughs. “Oh yeah?”

  “Totally.”

  “I’m also going to teach you how to tack,” he says.

  I fake fan my face. “Why, sir! You are being most inappropriate. I am a lady!”

  He laughs again.

  “Where did you learn how to sail anyway?” I ask when he finally sits down and we’re halfway across the lake.

  “Self-taught,” he says. “I grew up in Annapolis, Maryland. Near the water.”

  “Speaking of water,” Prague says, jumping into the conversation. “Can you try and get frog hunting on the schedule, Sam?”

  “Frog hunting!” I cry. “I loved frog hunting!”

  “Me too!” Prague says.

  “What, exactly, is frog hunting?” Lily asks.

  “We all put on Billy Boots and go to the marsh and catch frogs and put them in buckets,” I say. “We did it when I was here. It was fun. I’ll ask Danish. Want to come frog hunting with us, Gav?”

  “No thanks,” he says. “I prefer to keep my hands slime-free.”

  “But it’s fun!” Prague says.

  The boom comes across and he jumps to the other side of the boat. “Pass.”

  I’m surprised he’s not up for it, but I guess chasing frogs in a marsh is not everyone’s cup of tea.

  “Fine,” Prague says. “But you’re coming with us to New Beach tonight!”

  “You are?” I ask, surprised.

  He nods. “I’m your tripper. They always send one of the boat staff to help out.”

  “That’s fun,” I say, flushing. I turn to Prague. “How did you know that?”

  “I know everything,” she says, and pokes Gavin in the side. “Are you cooking?” Prague asks.

  “Yup. I’m in charge of the hot dogs.”

  “I had no idea we got a helper,” I say. “I was wondering if anyone was going to instruct me on how to roast a weenie. Do you stay overnight too?” I keep my eyes down as I ask the question.

  “Of course I stay overnight,” he says, and my heart races. “It’s really far away.”

  He shakes his head at me. I realize that he’s not staying overnight; he’s just saying that for the girls’ benefit since they are not supposed to know New Beach is a part of camp.

  “Oh, please,” Prague says. “It’s right by Bunk Eleven.”

  I laugh. “You really do know everything, don’t you, Prague?”

  “I really do,” she says, and turns back to the water.

  “Come on, girls, we gotta go!” I call out from the porch.

  “You’re so lucky your camp boyfriend is coming on our overnight,” Talia says.

  I laugh. “He’s not my camp boyfriend!” But then I think about my actual boyfriend, and realize that today was so busy that I forgot to text him again. Yesterday was busy too. I was on nighttime OD plus Free Play OD and couldn’t get to the office. Staying in constant contact is harder than I thought it would be. And where are those postcards he was supposed to send me? He was supposed to send one a day while he was abroad. Why’s he so busy that he can’t send me postcards?

  “I’m just jealous,” Talia continues. “Everyone in camp is in love with him and he only talks to you.”

  “That’s not true,” I say, but it might be true, and I kind of like it.

  I wonder what he’s like as a real boyfriend. Is he romantic? Is he a good kisser? Is he the kind of guy who makes the first move? Would he take my hand first? Touch my back? Or just try to kiss me?

  Inappropriate! I try to shake off the thought.

  I wonder if Talia’s really jealous, though. She doesn’t seem interested in Gavin. Or any of the guys, for that matter. Or the girls.

  “Come on, guys!” I yell again. “On the porch! Hustle!”

  The girls trickle out, wearing their backpacks, which are hopefully filled with their warmest pajamas, a bathing suit, a towel, and a change of clothes for tomorrow. They are holding their water bottles and plastic garbage bags for storing their sleeping bag and pillow, to keep them from getting wet if they fall in the water. It better not rain.

  I have my own backpack of clothes, my own sleeping bag and pillow, and an extra supply bag.

  When the girls are finally on the porch, I lead the way to the beach. “We’re going on a boating trip!” I yell out to the tune of, “We’re going on a bear hunt.”

  They repeat after me, all the way to the water.

  “Everyone get a life jacket!” I say, still in Bear Hunt mode. The girls chorus
it back, and Gavin gives me a funny look.

  “Ready?” Gavin says. He’s standing by one of the rowboats.

  “Oh yeah,” I say.

  I have a flashback to rowing over here when I was a kid. That was a terrible night. But now I’m in charge. And everyone is going to have fun.

  We divide into two rowboats and push off. Talia goes with Gavin, since she claims not to know how to row. Luckily, it’ll only take ten minutes to get there.

  The lake is quiet and mirrorlike since it’s Dinner Washup and we’re the only ones on it. Each row sends ripples through the reflection.

  I see the fireflies have come out too.

  “Why are we taking a boat when we could walk?” Em asks.

  “Because they want us to think it’s really far away,” Prague says. “They do this every year. Seniors get to go on actual canoe trips outside of camp.”

  “New Beach is really far away,” Gavin says. His voice travels across the water.

  “Liar!” Fancy exclaims.

  Gavin and Talia’s boat arrives at New Beach first. He rows as close to the shore as possible and then jumps out to pull it in. The girls squeal and hop over each other to rush out.

  “Take your stuff!” he calls out. “There’s no concierge service!”

  Two of them are already out of sight, but the other two take their backpacks and garbage bags. Gavin pulls my boat in next.

  “Thank you!” I say as he helps my girls out. We pass them their bags and knapsacks.

  “I totally remember this place,” I say. “And it looks exactly the same.”

  “Why do they call it New Beach?” Lily asks, the last one in the boat.

  “Because this piece of property used to be owned by another family, and camp just bought it about twenty years ago,” Prague says.

  “Is that true?” I ask Gavin.

  “Probably,” he says. He takes my hand and helps me out of the boat.

  We’re holding hands, we’re holding hands, we’re holding hands!

  Kind of.

  Could my camp boyfriend be any cuter? I don’t think so.

  Right by the water is a clearing where we’ll have our bonfire tonight, and then farther to the left is where the two tents are already set up. To the right is the path to Bunk 11, which I’m hoping the girls don’t notice.

  I can’t believe I’m back here. Last time I was on New Beach was one of the worst days of my summer. But this time could be one of my best?

  “Okay, ladies,” I say. “First let’s set up your sleeping bags. Three girls per tent plus one counselor! Take out your clothes so you can change right after you swim. Not your pj’s! We are only putting those on right before bed. We want to keep them clean and tick-free!”

  We find the tent area, and Talia and I unroll their sleeping bags and help the girls find spots for their flashlights and stuffed animals.

  “Who wants to swim?” I yell out.

  “Me! Me!” I hear back. The kids are already wearing their bathing suits, so they strip off any extra clothes, completely messing up our organized tents, and run into the water.

  “I’m too cold to swim,” Prague says, lagging behind the rest.

  We step into the clearing.

  “Me too,” I say.

  “You can help me get wood,” Gavin offers.

  “Get wood?” I say under my breath, and give him a look.

  He laughs. “Dirty mind.”

  “Attention, all campers and counselors,” we hear in the distance. “Attention, all campers and counselors. It is now the end of Dinner Washup. Please proceed to the flagpole.”

  The girls all stop splashing and laugh.

  “Oh yeah, we’re really far from camp,” Fancy says.

  “I don’t hear anything,” I say. “Talia, do you hear anything?”

  “Nothing at all,” she says. “Gavin?”

  “Nothing at all!”

  “You guys are such liars!” Fancy calls out.

  “You have to believe for it to be true,” I say.

  “That’s what my mom says about the tooth fairy,” Slugger says.

  “You don’t believe in the tooth fairy?” I ask.

  “Of course not!” Fancy says.

  “There is definitely a tooth fairy,” I tell them. “She’s just not interested in any of your teeth because of all the candy you eat.”

  Gavin snorts.

  When the girls are ready to come out, we walk over with their towels and wrap them each up. Giggling, they sprint to the tents to change.

  “Don’t come here, Gavin!” Fancy says.

  “I won’t,” he says, rolling his eyes.

  “Sam, make sure he doesn’t come!” Lily says.

  “I’ll guard the tents with my life,” I tell them.

  We hear a lot of squealing and then one by one they join us back in the clearing.

  “I have to pee,” Shira says. “Sam, can you come with me?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Who is ready to pee in the woods?”

  I grab the toilet paper and one of the seven hand sanitizers Talia packed in our supply bag. “Whoever has to pee, follow me!”

  “I just went in the lake!” Fancy says.

  “That’s so gross!” Shira tells her.

  “Why is that any grosser than going in the forest?” she barks back.

  “Because we’re all in the water,” Em says.

  “We’re all in the forest!”

  “We don’t swim in the forest,” she explains.

  “Okay! Whoever has to pee, follow me,” I say again, and lead them to a tree that has some space around it. “This is a good spot. This is the official bathroom. Everyone watch where you step.”

  “No pooping!” Prague says.

  “If you gotta go, you gotta go,” I say. “But it might be easier to wait to poop until tomorrow morning, if you have a choice in the matter.”

  The girls all laugh hysterically.

  “I’m peeing!” Prague says. “Easy-peasy pumpkin squeezy!”

  “I can’t do it with everyone here!” Em says.

  “Then move more into the forest,” I say.

  “I’m too scared. I don’t want to get a tick in my patoota.”

  “Your patoota?” Shira giggles.

  “Yes! My patooooooooota.”

  “Okay, everyone close your eyes so Em can pee,” I order.

  “Eyes closed!” Prague says.

  “Can you go?” I ask her, my eyes closed too.

  “I need everyone to close their ears and their eyes. And someone has to hold my lion.”

  I hold the lion. “Okay, everyone, close your ears!” I say. “Now can you?”

  “Maybe . . . almost.”

  We all wait. And wait.

  “I did it!”

  “Hooray!” we all cheer.

  “But I got some on my bathing suit.”

  I hand her the toilet paper roll. “It’s fine. Pee comes out in the wash.”

  “I miss our toilets,” Prague says. “Our short, gross, never flush all the way toilets.”

  “It’s only one night, girls! Now use the sanitizer!” I pass it around and then we rejoin the group.

  Back at the clearing, Gavin has the fire going.

  I stand beside him. “Nice flame.”

  “Thanks,” he says.

  “How many overnights do you have to do this summer?”

  “About three. One for the seniors, though, which is off camp.”

  “Oh. Not too bad.”

  “I don’t mind. This is fun.”

  The fire suddenly blazes in front of us and we step back.

  “So we eat after this?” I ask.

  “They play a little, and then we make hot dogs for dinner and play cards and make s’mores and then I go back to my bunk and you and Talia try to get six girls who have had too many marshmallows to fall asleep.”

  “Sounds awesome,” I say.

  “They’re probably going to wake up really early tomorrow. But I’ll be here by eight
to help you guys get back.”

  “And then we just row back to camp?”

  “That’s it.”

  I smile. “Easy-peasy pumpkin squeezy.”

  We make hot dogs and smother them in ketchup. Talia says she’s never had a hot dog before because they look gross, Gavin and I make fun of her, and she decides to try one.

  “I’m a vegetarian!” she says. “But I’m starving. And I forgot the soy peanut butter. So hand one over.” She chews about half. “This is as vile as I imagined.”

  Then it’s time for the s’mores. The girls get the chocolate all over their faces and I wish I had Wet-Naps but I didn’t bring any. I make them wipe their hands and faces on their towels.

  Then they all take out their flashlights and we tell ghost stories.

  There’s one about a boy who drowned in New Beach and now haunts New Beach.

  There’s one about the killer loose in the Adirondacks who eats children.

  “I heard a girl really did die at an overnight once,” Prague says. “She was allergic to peanut butter and someone brought peanut butter and used the same knife on her bread and she didn’t have her EpiPen on her and she died.”

  It suddenly gets a little cold.

  “That’s not true,” Fancy says. “You’re making that up.”

  “No, it is,” Prague says. “Has no one else ever heard about that? I heard my mom talking about it.”

  “I heard that too,” Talia says. “But that’s not this camp. Or this beach.”

  “Still scary,” Em says.

  Gavin and I look at each other, our eyes wide.

  “I don’t want to die,” Prague says, shivering.

  “No one is dying,” I say. “Can we talk about something else, guys?” I look at Slugger, remembering that her dad passed away.

  “What do you think happens after you die?” Slugger asks.

  Oh, brother. This is getting really heavy, really fast.

  “I think you go to heaven,” Prague says.

  “Jews don’t believe in heaven,” Em says.

  “We don’t?” I ask.

  “No,” Shira says. “Didn’t you go to Hebrew school?”

  “I did not,” I say.

  “I do,” Em says.

  “You do?” Fancy asks. “You’re Jewish?”

  “Yes!” Em says.

  “But you’re black!” Fancy says.

  “Hey,” I say quickly. “She can be black and Jewish.”

  “I go to Jewish day school,” Em says. “I probably know more about Judaism than you do.”