I hold out my hand. “Well, let’s see.”
He laughs. “Not yet. First, take off your shoes and climb up to your balcony seats. Get comfortable.”
I do as I’m told and relax into the blankets and pillows on the top bunk.
“Okay,” Gage announces. “Our movie choices are pretty much every Pixar movie made in the nineties,The Parent Trap, but it’s the original Hayley Mills version not the Lindsay Lohan one, and my personal favorite:Heavyweights.”
I wrinkle my nose, trying to remember if I’ve ever heard ofHeavyweights. I come up blank.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What’sHeavyweights?”
Gage’s face splits into a grin. “Only a cinematic masterpiece of the mid-90s about boys at a weight-loss summer camp. Ben Stiller plays the super intense camp owner who kills the Blob! The Blob, Olivia!”
“I’ve never heard of it. Ben Stiller’s in it?” I purse my lips. “And weight-loss camp for kids? Really? What is wrong with people?”
Gage shrugs. “It was the nineties. Body positivity wasn’t really a thing. The culture was all about being super skinny and dieting.”
I cock my head and raise one eyebrow.
Gage holds up his hands. “Okay, I feel like I’m not selling this movie, but I promise it’s really funny. You have to look past some of the more problematic plot points.”
“Where did you hear about this movie again?”
He looks away. “I watched it at Maggie’s house. She loved it when she was a kid.”
Oh.No wonder he wants to watch it, especially here at the summer camp Maggie attended as a kid.
I consider for a minute, adjusting the pillow behind me. “Do they … do they make fun of the kids?” I ask warily. I can’t imagine Gage finding that sort of thing funny, but I have to check before I blindly agree to watch it.
“No,” Gage says quickly. “Well, the villains of the movie do, but it’s portrayed as mean, which it is, instead of funny or acceptable.”
I relent. “Okay, let’s watchHeavyweights.”
Gage pumps his fist. “Yes! You won’t regret it, trust me.”
And he’s right, the movie is great, with Ben Stiller playing a hilariously unhinged camp director and coach. The kids are cute, and the underlying message is one of self-acceptance and friendship.
As the credits roll, I snuggle deeper into Gage’s side. “It was good,” I admit.
“Told you so,” he murmurs, kissing my neck in that delectable way I love.
“But now”—I playfully wiggle away from him—“it’s obviously time for aToy Storymarathon.”
He grunts and pulls me back to his side with a wink. “Intermission first.”
We spend the rest of the day cuddling and kissing while kids’ movies play in the background. When we’re hungry, we snack on the treats from the tray, but by dinner time, it’s clear we both need to eat something more substantial.
So, we walk to the mess hall for sustenance, braving the suffocating air that lingers even though it’s well into evening time.
When we finish eating, Gage leans in close to me. “I have one more surprise for you today,” he whispers in my ear. “Meet me by the little dock at 8:30. Wear a swimsuit.”
“Why?” I turn and look up at him.
His eyes sparkle. “You’ll see.”
Chapter nineteen
Gage
