“I can’t believe her! Doesn’t she have any respect for tradition?” says someone else.
“My dad used that same sharing stick whenhecame to camp here,” comes another lament.
A quick study of Olivia’s expression tells me that while she feels bad about accidentally destroying the sharing stick, she’s also bewildered by how seriously everyone is taking it.
Olivia’s mouth is appropriately turned down and her hands clasped apologetically in front of her, and no one who doesn’t know her well would be able to see the glint of amusement in her eyes. It’s as if they're screaming “Are you people for real? It’s only a stick!”
I sigh and step in. I clap my hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Hey, everybody, I know this is a tragedy. RIP sharing stick. But we can’t let it spoil the whole evening! That is not the Camp Prairie Star way!”
This gets a few murmurs of agreement from the crowd, so I keep going. “What we need to do now ishonorthe sharing stick by sitting around this bonfire and sharing the heck out of our feelings.” I pump my fist in the air to punctuate my suggestion.
The other counselors love this. I even get a smattering of applause.
Linda rises purposefully from the log bench. “Gage is right!” she exclaims, her voice still a little wobbly with emotion. “This is a dark day in Camp Prairie Star history, but the sharing must go on!”
Everyone cheers and gathers back around the fire pit. They all find seats but give Olivia a wide berth, eyeing her with suspicion.
Holding back laughter, I cross the proverbial picket line and sit with Olivia. She grabs my arm. “What the actual—” she swears in a low voice next to my ear. “Gage, is this a cult? Are we in a cult?”
I laugh as quietly as possible. I don’t want to be ostracized like Olivia, after all. “I think we’re safe,” I whisper back to her.
Chapter ten
Olivia
WhathaveIgottenmyself into? These people are absolutely bonkers.
Do I feel bad for throwing their special stick into the fire with the other kindling? Of course I do. But I don’t think we need to have a funeral for the darn thing.
Linda decides that in lieu of the sharing stick, we can hold hands in a circle and lift our joined hands when it’s our turn to share.
It’s as if we don’t need a sharing stick at all! Imagine that!This whole day has got my patience level at full snark.
A woman I haven’t met yet is on one side of me. I hold out my hand to her, and she takes it, albeit with great reluctance. I manage to hold back an eye roll.
Gage is on my other side. When he slips his hand into mine, every nerve ending in my body goes on high alert. His rough palm sliding against mine and his thumb slotted into the space between my thumb and fingers are enough to make me shiver. I glance at him, but he gives no indication that the contact has the same kind of effect on him.
“Remember that the idea with this icebreaker is to be vulnerable, to share something important about yourself, so that we can build trust as a group,” Linda tells us. “The question we’re each going to answer tonight is ‘what is your biggest fear?’”
I groan to myself. I would rather throwmyselfin the fire pit than share vulnerable feelings even with my closest friends and family. There’s no way I want to share my biggest fear with a group of strangers who all apparently hate me.
“Let’s start with our new staff members,” Linda continues. “We only have three this year. Matt, why don’t you go first?”
Matt, who’s standing on the opposite side of the circle between Brynn and Nina, is a muscular guy with brown hair and average height. “Um,” he hedges. “I don’t know. Maybe snakes?”
We all wait for him to say more, but when he doesn’t, Linda goes on. “Okay, thank you, Matt. Delaney? What about you?” Her tone has an edge to it when she says my name, but I can tell she’s working hard to let the whole sharing-stick incident go.
It probably doesn’t help things when I grin and answer, “You know, my biggest fear is probably destroying a sacred talisman on my first day of work, leading to all my new coworkers hating me.”
I laugh to let them know I’m joking. Still smiling, I dart my eyes around the circle, only to be met with a lot of glares. On my right, I hear Gage groan softly.
“Too soon?” I whisper to him out of the corner of my mouth.
Gage sighs but doesn’t answer me, so I elbow him in the side until I see him bite back a smile.
“I see,” Linda says. “Gage, how about you?”
I turn my attention to Gage, my hand still firmly encased in his.
