Page 25 of That Summer Feeling

My body knew best. And my body said no.

“I’m so sorry,” I told her as tears filled my eyes. Our teammates had started to look back. They were yelling our names. Screaming for us to get started. “I can’t do this.”

“Fuck,” Stevie whispered. A single syllable, harboring a world of disappointment.

She let go of my hand and took off after our teammates. She caught up to them easily, then passed them, maneuvering smoothly beyond where they struggled along the course, until she was the first to reach the other side.

It didn’t matter, because I never moved.

Our team had lost before we’d even begun.

10

As we sat on the bleachers watching the other teams complete their turns, Stevie projected an impenetrable force field of disappointment. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it could be seen from the farthest rungs of our universe. Black holes might have closed up out of fear.

Every time a competitor managed to make it to the other side, I apologized. One person on Green Team fell into the netting and I apologized for them falling. With each apology, Stevie said some variation of “It’s okay,” then continued to behave as if it were not okay in the slightest.

Red Team competed last. Mason moved across the ropes exactly as I expected he would, like they’d built the course just for him and he was excited to demonstrate for the rest of us mere mortals how easily he could complete this. He got to the other side well before the rest of his team.

Dara finished next, and the two of them high-fived each other, then screamed and cheered for everyone else.

We didn’t know the official times yet. It seemed from my mental calculations that Red Team had easily beaten everyone else. I wondered how we would have placed if I’d done my part. It was terrible that we’d never know. Because I hadn’t moved.

“I’m really sorry,” I said for what may have been theGuinness World Recordsholder for number of times a person could apologize for the same thing.

This time Stevie waited, saying nothing for so long I almost apologized again. Then she squared herself toward me, putting her hands on my shoulders.

“Listen,” she said with a surprisingly gentle touch. “Pleasestop apologizing to me. You were genuinely scared. That’s not something I could ever be mad at you for. I just have a hard time losing. It’s completely my problem. Nothing to do with you. I’d be like this even if we’d gone across. Probably even if we won.”

“ButI’mthe reason we lost,” I reminded her.

“Garland, I promise you, there is not a single person here who does not know that. The ghosts of past campers have already issued the announcement in their local ghost paper.Garland Moore loses ropes course for Blue Team.They will use this news to haunt the future children who attend this camp. By mortals and dead alike, you will be feared.” She looked right at me. Down into the core of me, where I was hurting the worst, feeling all the deepest kinds of disappointment. “My reaction has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I need you to believe me.”

It scared me, even though I did think she was telling me the truth. She was just handling the loss with little grace, and I wished she would care less, if only so she wouldn’t be so hurt by the result. Then again, I wishedIwould care less about most things, and that only ever seemed to make me care more.

After Red Team climbed down the ladder, they strolled proudly to the bleachers to sit with the rest of us. Their collective energy was that of champions. Shoulders pulled back. Chins held high. They knew what they’d accomplished. The referees came over to read the results, not that anyone needed to hear them to know.

Red Team took first place, earning forty points.

Blue came in dead last, grabbing only ten.

Another apology surfaced on my tongue. This time for my entire team. I stood up in the middle of our cobalt blob on the bleachers and put both my hands atop my heart. “I’m so sorry, everyone,” I said, tears spilling out of my eyes. “I won’t let that happen again.”

“You were scared,” Aja said. “Now we know. Next time just tell us beforehand so we can figure it out.”

“I will,” I promised.

The referees dismissed us, and all the teams started shuffling off in various directions, ready to spend the rest of their day however they pleased.

“Couldn’t make it happen, huh?” Frank yelled down from the top of the bleachers. He had his hands on his hips and his Green Team shirt wrapped around the back of his neck like a towel. His team had come in third, but he didn’t want to be the target, so he’d decided to start the Stevie antagonization.

“It’s only the first competition, fuckhead,” Stevie yelled back, twice as loudly and with three times the confidence. I took a step up the bleachers, thinking she wanted us to go and talk to him, but she pressed her hand against my arm, holding me back.

“Yeah, and you’re in last!” Frank reminded her.

“That’s a familiar place for you! Have any tips for me?” she asked.

Suddenly, a set of strong arms wrapped around the back of me and tilted me off the ground until my feet faced the sky. My legs flailed for purchase. I was a captured cockroach, desperate to be set free.