Page 102 of Within These County Lines

Xander peers through my windshield, waiting for the all-clear signal, and I wave him forward while Sheryl and Kim recruit me to help finish setting up for the dance. They don’t know I’m here with a date, so I can’t exactly refuse without seeming rude. But in the end, I don’t mind. After all, I’m making the place nice for Xander too.

We hang twinkle lights across the camp pavilion. Every picnic table gets covered with a blue plastic tablecloth and a fake white candle as a centerpiece. Kim inflates two giant unicorns that flank the DJ booth. There’s not really a theme to the dance, but it’s fun and gay and that’s all that matters.

The drained pool is blocked off by caution tape strung between orange traffic cones, giving it a Halloween vibe by accident. I’m off the health department’s clock, so I don’t stare for too long. But I make a mental note to tell Victor that it’s still closed even after all this time. Hopefully it’s enough to get him to finish my letter.

The DJ kicks off the night with an upbeat song, and suddenly, a stampede of campers comes rushing from the woods.

No one else is dressed up. They’re in shorts, T-shirts, and bare feet, some even in bathing suits. Xander and I are swans among ducks. The only problem is that I’m the only one they can see. I want to proclaim that I’m not from the local church. But tonight’s not about me or them. It’s about Xander. And he dazzles beneath the yellow twinkle lights, emitting an auburn cotton-candy-like haze that nearly makes the other campers disappear.

The two shots of Froot-Loops vodka we threw back in the truck make my solo dancing seem less awkward, even if it’s not. Xander bobs his head and gently sways his hips, with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the growing mosh pit. I’m technically chaperoning this dance, so I keep us off to the side on our own private dance floor.

A rap song takes over the speakers and the new beat gets my feet moving. The campers form a circle around a boy killing a break dance. With all the eyes off us, or me, I lean into Xander’s ear.

“Do you want to, like, dance together?” I ask.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he replies. “I didn’t know if you would feel weird or not.”

“I’m all yours.”

He smiles. “Let me take my jacket off.” He slips out of his orange tuxedo and tosses it onto the nearest picnic table. Underneath, orange suspenders clip to his waistband.

We take each other’s hands and spin, twirl, jump, and twist through a dozen songs. Sweat stains appear along our backs and under our armpits, but we don’t stop.

“Stetson, do you want a partner?” Sheryl asks, jigging her way over to me from the other side of the pavilion. “Or are you going to dance out here alone all night?” She laughs.

“I’m okay,” I shout over the song, releasing Xander so my grip on the air doesn’t look so odd. “Just enjoying the music.”

She nods. “Thanks so much for coming.” Her fingers snap along to the beat. “The kids had a really special couple of weeks.”

“I bet. I’d love to help next summer. I don’t think I’ll do the pool job again, so I’ll probably be free.”

Xander notices my words mid-arm-wave. He raises his brow and shoots me a smile. “Next summer?” he mouths.

“Oh.” Sheryl raises her finger. “By the way, the technician came and looked at the pipes.”

My eyes twitch. “What did he find?”

She shakes her head with pursed lips. “Most of them need replacing.”

“What? Why?”

“Too much time has passed. They were clogged with mud and debris from the woods. There were even tree roots growing in a few of ’em.”

My feet freeze mid-step. “Tree roots? In the pipes?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nods. “They went after the moisture. Squeezed them until they collapsed.”

“I didn’t know that could happen.”

“Me neither.” She stops dancing too and rests her hand on my shoulder, breathing deep. “All that to say . . . the pool won’t be open until next year.”

“I can come back soon and close your site out.”

“We’ll be here.” She pats my back. “I’m going to go see if we need more ice for the drinks.”

Xander drifts back toward me as Sheryl leaves the pavilion. He presses his shoulder into my chest.

“Did you hear that?” I ask.