“Hi, Sawyer,” we responded.
“I’m Sawyer. My pod is Cygnus. I use they/them pronouns. And my truths are… I love deviled eggs, I hate ice cubes in my drinks, and I can juggle knives.” They said each statement with no tone to give it away.
We debated each declaration. The knife juggling stood out as outrageous, so it was most likely true. And all I could see was this fierce person juggling with knives reflected in their eyes,laughing maniacally. I gulped back a little trepidation at that image. We talked and decided that they probably hated eggs, deviled eggs to be precise.
Thanks to our deductive prowess, we were one of the only tables to get it right. I noticed Lamar wasn’t with us anymore, then there he was, like magic.
We learned that Delphinus pod’s counselor Felicia was a former travel agent who was one of ten children and was allergic to strawberries.
“Next up, Lamar from the Orion pod,” Hazel announced.
Lamar took the stage, taking the microphone from her. “I’ve been on a thousand hikes, I’ve auditioned for theGreat American Baking Show, and I had a small role in the soap operaDays of Our Livestwice.”
“I knew I recognized him.” Emerson’s eyes were wide with victory as she swore that the last statement was true. Lamar’s hiker boots gave him away, so we decided our counselor had probably not auditioned for theGreat American Baking Show.We were right and so was the table in front of us.
We were on a roll with our guesses, only missing Andromeda pod’s counselor, Nat, so far, not realizing that she had over a half million Instagram subscribers and that our camp dad had even been a follower before she joined Camp Starlight.
Jack stepped up next. Leo introduced him as the man who’d built our cabins with his blood, sweat, and tears—Starlight’s construction foreman—who was currently working on the newest pod addition, Lynx. And that was when I realized the pods were named after star systems.
Jack had shoulder-length dark blond hair that he pushed out of his face, making him look more like a model than a counselor and construction whiz. The things that gave him away were his tanned skin, broad shoulders, and ripped biceps. I was envious of his closely shaven, full beard, which still didn’t hide hissharply defined cheekbones. He had an air of enthusiasm as he took the mic.
“Hi, I’m Jack, my pod is Corvus, and I use he/him pronouns. My truths are that I’ve seen ghosts my entire life, I’ve driven a monster truck, and I only get about four hours of sleep a night,” Jack said ebulliently, clearly liking being the center of attention.
We submitted our guesses, and he admitted to his lie.
“I have not seen a ghost my entire life,” he stage-whispered, “just the last two months since that camper died.”
Hazel and Leo both hurried to interrupt him with nervous laughter. “We don’t need to talk about that,” they said in tandem.
I caught several pairs of eyes with disbelieving looks. Jack waved at us and left the stage as Hazel introduced the next counselor.
“Our next counselor is one of our founding staff who built this place with Leo, Jack, and me five years ago. Our resident lumberjack—”
A laugh rang out, and before I learned her name, I knew exactly who it was.
Autumn Gardner, my first love and the woman who had haunted me for years.
Laughter seemed to come easily to her now, delightfully carefree, unrestrained. My mind tried desperately to connect this freer version of her with the buttoned-up smart-as-a-whip girl that I knew in high school. Just like that, I could see her back then, brushing windblown blonde hair away from her face. My smile mirrored hers. I felt it as I looked up at her. Grinning, getting ready to lie to me and tell me something real. I was desperate for the information as memories of our past whooshed through me.
“You okay?” Ren whispered. He’d always been able to read me, but I went with the lie, anyway.
“Yeah, man.” I brushed him off, knowing he’d probably felt my tension as I hyper-focused on Autumn. Her mannerisms and magnetism captivated me. Her hair was still dirty blonde, but the bangs were new, and her golden locks were shorter. It suited her. The happiness in her voice agreed with her most of all.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Autumn. I’m the counselor for pod Phoenix, and my pronouns are she/her.” She launched into her two truths and a lie. “I wrote a book of poems, one of which was about a pineapple, I wore a tuxedo to my senior prom, and I’ve won two ping pong competitions.”
I knew the answer immediately, and my heart sank. Then I focused on what I’d just learned. She had written poetry and played ping pong competitively. Interesting. She glowed under the attention, and the room fell even quieter as I whispered the lie to my teammate.
I knew Autumn hadn’t worn a tuxedo to her senior prom because I was the reason she didn’t go.
