by Phil Wohl
The next day we awoke to our least favorite part of Color War, the Song Competition. The girls waiting all summer for a chance to sing, but we couldn’t wait for it to be over. I like to sing but just not in front of other people. It was almost impossible for us to overtake the red team unless we had Justin Timberlake on our team and they had Brittany Spears signing.
The singing and judging seemed to take as long as going shopping at the mall with my mom. Those trips tested every fiber of my patience and energy, and so was that corny Songfest.
We sang some stupid song parodies and so did everyone else – we finished in second place in both the competition and Color War. Everyone was hugging and high-fiving after the screams of joy and celebration subsided from the red team. By the time I got near Shari, hugging was about the last thing on my mind.
It took a few minutes for the crowd to thin and for me to make my way in front of Shari. She had a smile on her face, almost like she knew what I was going to say. I took a deep
breath but my heart was beating so fast that it felt like I had just run a mile.
“That was fun,” Shari said as we were now pretty much alone in a small space.
“The Color War or the ice cream?” I replied trying to be funny.
She smiled, almost waiting for me to make the next move.
“I have something to ask you,” I said trying to get the words out.
She nodded her head trying to encourage the words out of me. I have no idea why asking a girl out was so difficult for me, but it just was. The worst that could happen was that she would say no and humiliate me. On the other hand, if I could stop trembling long enough to get the words out there was a good chance she would say “Yes.”
Then there was the problem of what to do if she agreed to go out with me. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, or what I was supposed to do. You could say that I was more in the dark than people in a blackout. However, if I didn’t try
then I would be unhappy. I thought for a moment that life used to be a lot easier before Gary Brown messed everything up.
I took one last deep breath and jumped off of the high diving board, “Will you go out with me?”
Shari looked at me with a straight face and replied, “Let me go ask my friends.”
I felt humiliated and wanted to run for a second when Shari took a few steps away from me. She quickly turned back towards me and said, “Yes, oh X-cellent one. I will go out with you.”
We weren’t at the hugging stage so we simply laughed and then went our separate ways. That was the moment I kept worrying about – you know, the all right we’re going out, now what do we do moment.
Punch In the Dark
Since I had no idea what to do, I would watch other guys my age and counselors in action. This made me even more confused about the whole “going out” thing.
There was no doubt that I liked Shari more than any girl I had met. She was even a step above Karen Chaney, the girl that Gary made me embarrassed over in art class. I had taken a few baby steps since then but still felt as though the spirit of Gary was lurking over my shoulder.
When you’re 12, things seem to move real fast at times. Then there are other situations when you have to switch into neutral just so your mind doesn’t become overloaded. Being with girls is one of those situations – I’d rather do nothing than be pressured into doing something that makes me uncomfortable.
The first few days of going out with Shari were pretty comfortable. We saw each other at meals and only had a chance to talk for a total of ten minutes. Then Friday night brought with it the weekly dance – a time when boy’s held up the wall and girls danced together.
I love to dance but tend to get down in my room with the door closed rather than dance in public. Maybe one day I’ll be a little more comfortable with thrusting my hips and shaking my groove thing in front of other people.
The night started a bit slow and then Shari and I got together. I don’t know why I was so shy and embarrassed when I danced with her – there was something inside me that wouldn’t let me feel comfortable. It was a good thing we got to the punch bowl before a slow song went on – most of the dance floor emptied then anyway.
We were both sweating from all of the bopping around that night. It was a warm and sweat was everywhere. My clothes were moist and my hair was even wet to the point that I was able to slick it back like a greaser.
The walk back from the main hall to Shari’s bunk seemed to take hours. In reality, it was about five minutes but I had a lot on my mind. This was my first walk-back with Shari and I was concerned about how I should end the sweaty evening. A handshake would be my one-way ticket to loserville, but a kiss was risky because it was unchartered territory for me.
Couples kept passing us and we were made to watch all of the action around the girl’s bunks. Counselors rarely ever initiated any public displays of affection, or PDA’s, in fear of being reprimanded by the camp’s directors. Kissing on the side
of the bunk, though, didn’t require much preparation or cunning. Although it was dark, I think we all knew what was going on -- whatever that was.
With about ten minutes left to say our goodbyes and head back to the boy’s side of camp, most of the guys did their business and moved on. My body felt like it was in quicksand and my lips felt like they had left town and were vacationing in Florida.
Looking at Shari, she didn’t seem to be so comfortable either. Every guy we saw kissed every girl he was with; we appeared to be the only awkward couple in the camp. A few of my bunkmates even passed me and tried to give me encouragement. Press kissed one of his many girlfriends goodnight and strolled by me saying, “Close the deal, X-Man.”
Close what deal? Since when did girls’ lips become deals that needed to be closed? From what I could see, their lips were open a lot more than they were closed – maybe it would have been better if I tried to open the deal?
Honestly, the thought never even crossed my mind to try to kiss Shari that first night. I just wanted the uncomfortable
feeling of being the only guy not to kiss his girl goodnight. We waited until every other couple had finished and all of the girls had entered their bunks before I said, “Goodnight.” Shari looked at me quickly and replied, Yeah, I had fun. Goodnight.” She took a step toward her bunk and then lunged at me with her clenched right fist and punched my left arm. She ran into the bunk giggling and I shook my head in disbelief and started the walk back to my bunk.
Even though it was already dark, I could tell that the blow to my arm would leave a nice bruise. I knew once I got back to Bunk 12 I would get grilled like a hamburger, as we all were under the microscope. This focus kept us honest and we never had a chance to get too full of ourselves.
I walked into the bunk and the questioning began:
“Hey X-Man, you sure took your time getting back” said
Bruiser.
I didn’t say anything on the grounds that it might make me look bad.
Bruiser shot me a look and said, “Did you kiss her?”
When I wasn’t supplying information Bruiser following me into the back of the bunk where my cubby was.
“Dude, what’s going on?” Bruiser asked me.
Bruiser was my best friend in the bunk because he knew when to apply pressure and when to come talk to me one-on- one. He knew that if I was quiet, which didn’t happen very often, that something must have been bothering me.
I replied, “Nothing’s going on. Nothing’s going on at all.” “You didn’t kiss her?” he asked.
“No” I replied.
“So what were you doing there all that time?” he kept at it.
“Standing and watching everyone else kissing,” I said. He asked, “So what happened?”
“It was getting dark and I knew time was running out, so I
said goodnight and then…”
“Then, what?” he exclaimed.
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br /> “Then she turned, punched me in the arm, and ran in her bunk.” I said with a straight face.
I picked up the sleeve of my t-shirt and showed him the bright red spot on my left arm.
He looked at me and said, “Dude, don’t worry about it. These guys think that I kissed a few girls but you and I are in the same boat.”
I picked up my head and replied, “The sinking one?”
We both laughed and exchanged fist bumps; Bruiser then walked out into the center of the bunk and exclaimed, “That guy is wild!”
I thought to myself, “Yeah, as wild as a pet rock.” I really didn’t care what the guys thought of me and my attempts at social nirvana. The bottom line was that I still wasn’t going to do anything until I was ready. Sensing that Shari was about as uncomfortable as I was helped me avoid any possible lip confrontation. It also didn’t hurt to have a friend that cared about my feelings for a change. I had come a long way from the Gary Brown days.
Holding Hands
I wasn’t sure what to expect after Shari punched my arm and ran into her bunk. Would she be cold and distant or interesting and fun loving as she was before the event?
It didn’t take long for my question to be answered – I saw Shari at breakfast the next morning and she had a huge smile on her face. Maybe I did kiss her and the impact triggered some sort of short-term memory loss?
She came over to me and said, “How’s your arm?”
I showed her the bruise and she said, “Let me kiss it and make it better.”
She took the index and middle fingers of her right hand and put them up to her puckered lips and then touched them to my bruise.
“All better” she exclaimed.She walked away and said
“See you later.”
I looked at her with amazement and a new ease and replied, “Yeah, thanks! See you later.”
Looking back, we were both so awkward because we barely knew each other. The two of us also had no previous experience dealing with these kinds of situations. I night of
sleep definitely helped us, or more accurately Shari, become more comfortable.
I never do things that make me uncomfortable, unless a huge gym teacher makes me or my dad yells at me. Middle school gym class is so stupid – we have to do all of these physical fitness-type things that it isn’t fun anymore. Push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups – there are so many “ups” it made me wonder when we were going to have some “down” activities. We could have used some sitting down, some lying down, and a little cooling down before our next classes.
A few days after my bruise was magically healed by the “kiss and make better” fairy, the camp was assembled for a gymnastics demonstration on the main basketball court. Since neither one of us was a gymnast, Shari and I would be able to kick back and get some serious relaxation time together for a change.
Many events that involved both boys and girls at camp were so pressure and time oriented that there was little time to slow things down. The weekly Friday night dances gave most couples a chance to be together, but the loud music really
made it difficult to communicate. This lack of talking almost made it necessary to dance until your feet were on fire, because just sitting there looking at the four walls was completely lame.
I had no expectations going into the relaxed gymnastics presentation. The one thing I did know was that I didn’t really care about all of the tumbling, running, twisting and flipping that much. It probably was a good thing that over half of the summer had gone by, because the people lined around the court were calm and orderly. Earlier in the summer energy was at a peak, so this kind of demonstration would have had the potential of getting pretty ugly.
Shari and I started the late afternoon by sitting with a few other people, including a group of each of our bunkmates, in a semi-circle. We sat in this formation so we all could watch the action and talk at the same time. The hour-long event started dragging after about 20 minutes, so a few people got up to stretch their legs and get some refreshments.
Twenty minutes later, the crowd got thin and my sole focus was on Shari. I had never been this close to a girl for
such an extended period of time. The quiet of the moment seemed to make us even more comfortable with each other. Shari appeared to be getting tired and she moved closer to me and leaned against me.
As strange as it might sound, I was so comfortable that I didn’t even think about Shari leaning against me. It felt natural to be that close with someone I really liked. We were so relaxed that my left hand dropped next to her left hand and just like that, we were holding hands.
I guess that all good things have to start somewhere. Following that great night, Shari and I held hands everywhere we went. Holding hands sort of makes you legitimate as a couple – kind of like getting good grades in school makes everyone think you’re smart.
Sweaty palms were no match for the power that comes with holding another person’s hand. Even as a little kid, when your parents held your hand there was a bond that was hard to explain. The connection that two hands provide is electric – it provides an instant connection between people and puts a positive charge through their veins.
I definitely preferred the interlocking finger grip to the “open clam” grip. When you first held someone’s hand with a basic overlapping grip, the two hands make a shape that looks like an open clam. Fingers intertwined together makes for a much more intense grip than even the one finger technique.
It was important for us to progress to holding hands. I’ve learned that there are certain steps you must go through when you go out with someone. Kissing before you hold hands throws off the delicate balance that exists in the relationship universe. Throwing off the balance will inevitably lead to the abrupt end of any relationship, regardless of the feelings of the participants.
I am not the kind of person that looks to disturb anything in the universe, and I live by a positive code that usually keeps me balanced. When you’re 12 year old, life seems to be complicated. The pressure to get good grades, fit in at school, fit in at home, can be a bit overwhelming at times.
It was remarkable how simple life was for me when I was going out with Shari. Although I wasn’t in school and I didn’t have my parents meddling in my business at home, life seemed
to be as simple as I could remember. My thoughts were focused on Shari and having fun with my friends – it was like I was in first grade again, only this time I was older and had a girlfriend.
Hanging out with a girl, without pressure, was all but taken away from me for so many years. Girls seemed to go their way and boys were left with nothing but anxiety and eventually pimples. I developed a few pimples in the beginning of the summer that required extensive extraction – I also had a few pop up when I first started going out with Shari – but since we started holding hands my skin has been as clear as it was when I was smaller and life was less complicated.
Eyes Closed
It didn’t really matter that I had no idea what I was doing. What mattered was that I was growing up and that’s what sleep-away camp was all about. You go away to stand on your own two feet and start strengthening your independent
personality. The problem I was hoping to avoid was backsliding into my old, lazy, nervous habits when the school year started.
I had seen relationships come and go all summer, but I never thought that the good thing I had going with Shari would ever come to an end. Maybe I’m somewhat naïve but, after all, I’m only 12 years old!
When things are going well in your life the good fortune tends to spread like peanut butter. While we usually don’t associate peanut butter with flowing like a stream, it definitively spreads on evenly and sticks to most surfaces. That adhesive, glue-like quality is what you’re looking for in good luck. I really wasn’t looking for any of that good luck to detach itself from me, or the roof of my mouth, any time soon.
It was the responsibility
of every counselor to make sure that the campers didn’t conveniently slip away and get lost. Too bad that the counselors themselves were in the habit of sneaking away together, leaving the kids to act responsible.
There was this one counselor named Chip – I think his real name was Bruce – that had taken just about every college-age, female counselor behind the bunk at one time or another.
What he was doing back there in the dark was anyone’s feeble guess, but I’m sure they weren’t on nature hikes. Chip didn’t even like to camp out on our overnights.
Many of the guys had talked to Chip about girls and he had seemed to both ease their pain and give them new nightmares at the same time. I was afraid to talk to him because I wasn’t quite ready for the information that I expected to flow out of his mouth. Besides, I was in a comfortable place in my life and there was really no reason for me to mess it up.
It was definitely curious about kissing Shari – I think it merely another step on the path of our relationship. Not that I expected there to be any more steps after that, but it was a step that was out there if it was meant to be.
When I would walk back to Shari’s bunk, hand in hand, we would say goodnight by hugging and then she would walk away. Most couples seemed to get to the hugging part long after the kissing part, but I guess I’m a good boy with a soul.
One night during the weekly Friday night dance, Shari and
I strolled to the back of the bleachers to get some punch. It
