Page 17 of That Summer Feeling

“We needed you,” I assured her, even though I had no idea if she liked to dance. In that moment, I really believed myself. “I was telling everyone, ‘We need Michelle!’ ”

Stevie looked past me. “She’s very drunk.”

“And you’re not?” Michelle asked her.

“Not so much.”

Stevie’s hair was so pretty. So curly. Soft ringlets. Just lovely.

“Can I braid your hair?” I asked her.

“Maybe in a bit. Let’s get you changed first.”

“Okay.” I wandered off into what I thought was our room, only to discover I was in the hall closet. “Whoops!”

Stevie got behind me again. Her hands were so warm, they heated me from the inside out. She had them on my waist, pulling me toward our room. “This way.”

I flopped face-first onto my bed, unable to resist the temptation. Distantly, I could understand I wasn’t behaving properly, but I couldn’t hold on to the thought long enough to change my actions. Only between bursts of sleeping did I realize Stevie was gingerly slipping off my shoes.

“We need to brush your teeth and get you in pajamas,” she insisted.

“No!” I yelled, then laughed. “I’m gonna sleep now.”

She tried again, this time nudging my shoulder. Instead of responding, I pulled her on top of me like a blanket. “C’mon. Sleep with me.”

She pried herself away. “I’m going to get you a glass of water. Okay?”

“No! Come to bed!” I pulled her back down. It felt so nice to have her lie on top of me. Why would she want to get up? Where could be better than here?

She still smelled like a cherished memory. Like I’d known her all my life, but somehow I’d forgotten her until today. The sunscreen mixed with the watery scent on her skin reminded me of even more safe things. Lying on my back on a pool float. Making a wish on a dandelion puff under the high-noon heat of a long summer day.

If she got up again, I didn’t feel it.

The last thing I remembered was the comfort of her body atop mine.

Day Two of Summer Camp

7

The next morning greeted me with a splitting headache and an alarm that went off with the sunrise. Light sliced in through the slatted blinds, insulting me with the promise of a new day. On the nightstand between my bed and Stevie’s, a tall glass of water awaited me, along with some medicine and a croissant. There was a little note that readYou’ll need this when you wake up. See you out there, ally.

It took a lot of effort to get myself upright, but I drank the water readily and took the medicine with my croissant. Stevie and Michelle were already gone. Morning people, it seemed. Something I could genuinely never be, though my recurring alarm still kept the faith. The best part of my job as a rideshare driver was setting my own hours. I preferred to start my day around noon and be done with work by five.

By the time I’d showered and dressed myself, I felt slightly less like a hollowed-out husk of a human, not that it was anyaccomplishment. Last night’s drinks came up my throat in five-minute intervals. Little reminders of the decisions I’d made, though I couldn’t really remember any of them.

What had I said? What had Idone?

I emerged from my cabin in big sunglasses and an oversized hoodie, hoping to make it to the mess hall without incident. Somehow, campers still recognized me.

“Garland! So much fun last night!” one of them yelled out. “Hee-haw!”

“Hee-haw!” Another person echoed.

I had no idea who they were. Or whathee-hawmeant. Hand over my heart, if I got asked to explain the origins of that phrase or be thrown into a lightless cave for the next hundred years, I’d have kissed my life goodbye and moved into the darkness.

“If it isn’t Garland Moore,” Tommy said when I made my somewhat dramatic entrance into the mess hall. It wasn’t the theatrical sunglasses and gigantic hoodie that made my arrival notable. Campers were letting out genuine whoops of appreciation at the sight of me.

Tim patted the spot beside him. “Hee-haw!”