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ChapterTwenty-One
TESS
I’ve spent the better part of this week throwing myself into camp activities, one after another. This serves the dual purpose of avoiding Spencer, while also discovering that T-Time’s a pretty decent director.
That’s me. I’m T-Time. It’s a nickname the counselors came up with for me first, and the campers ran with it. Literally.
During Capture the Flag, the kids always try to “arrest” T-Time first. They drag me across the grass to their makeshift jail, then the opposing team swoops in for a rescue. After they high-five themselves for saving me, I’m caught again. Over and over. It’s like Groundhog Day on the playing fields. Catching and freeing T-Time is a bigger goal than capturing the flag.
I’ll admit, it’s pretty adorable.
Better than being Tess the Mess for sure.
While we play Marco Polo in the lake, I am tagged it. Very often. On the ranch, campers skip up asking me to join their group for a hike, or check out the shirt they tie-dyed, or admire the dream-catcher they made. At mealtimes, the campers beg me to sit at their table. They pick me to lead the first songs at Shady Hill. Are you noticing the pattern? I can’t describe the feeling.
It’s a great big ball of love.
As it turns out, there’s nothing better than seeing the happiness on everyone’s faces and knowing I’m partly responsible. Okay, majorly responsible.
I’m T-Time. Bringer of fun.
But I’m also distracting myself from the pit in my stomach caused by steering clear of Spencer. By Saturday morning, the pit is big. Like James and the Giant Peach-sized. That’s because I know I won’t be able to hide from him at movie night tonight. Even worse, I’ll be pushing him and Kayla together in front of Mrs. Lockhart. On purpose.
So I’m already feeling woozy when I head to the camp office for a group FaceChat Mac scheduled this afternoon. With the whole family. Just for FUN.
I’d rather be in camp jail.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my family, and this is the only way most of us can see each other between holidays. But a grid of their grins on a screen is easier to manage in theory than in reality. There are awkward silences, then suddenly four people talk at once. Today’s chat features five boxes and eight people. That’s a whole lot of interruption coming our way.
My mother and grandmother—Big Mama—are in Abieville, New York. They’re on Big Mama’s back porch with the lake in the background, and my heart squeezes when they pretend to hug me through the computer.
Darby’s in San Francisco, where she’s absolutely killing it in med school. Olivia’s in Colorado, being what she calls a “mountain ambassador” at Breckenridge. Of course, both my sisters signed into the chat before I did. When I pop on, they wave and smile. Our similar faces take up more than half the screen, which is both eerie and comforting. So close and yet so far.
Mac, Brooke, and Daisy are crowded into one box. They’re in the kitchen of their farmhouse. I’m alone in my camp office.
Let the games begin.
Mom: Everyone looks so wonderful! When are you all coming to visit again?
Darby: Oooh. Your shoulders are really sunburned.
Me: Whose shoulders are sunburned?
Olivia: Do you have aloe vera? You should put aloe vera on your shoulders.
Me:Are you talking to me?
Darby and Olivia: Yes.
Big Mama:(to my mom, Remy) Which one of the girls needs aloe vera? Everyone move closer to the screen so I can see you.
Mom:Put your glasses on, Mama.
Daisy: Brooke is eating peanut butter and pickles right now. And she had syrup on her steak last night. It’s soooo disgusting.
Brooke:Hey. Talk to me when you’re preg—
Mac:Our daughter is never getting married. The end.
