FIRST SUMMER CAMP

Mariah

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Dear Mom,

I really hate this summer camp and I don’t want to be here anymore. It’s completely unfair that I’m stuck here all summer while Zach gets to go to the sports camp on the other side of the lake.

He doesn’t have to take any classes or do any reading, like I do. He just plays basketball all day.

And remember when you said that I would make a bunch of new friends here? Well, that’s not true at all. It’s been two weeks and I haven’t made a single one.

The girls here won’t include me in anything since I’m the youngest. They even call me “Baby Mariah.” (Even Liam does it. Some ‘peer counselor’ he is :- (  )

Can you please come get me? I really want to come home.

Love,

Mariah

PS — I promise I’ll help out at Dawson’s every day, if you let me come home.

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I stare at my letter and slowly reread every word, knowing my mom won’t make the three-hour drive to save me based on this, so I tear it up and decide to take the dramatic route.

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Dear Mom,

I LOVE LOVE LOVE this summer camp and I don’t ever want to leave!

Camp Briar is the best camp ever!

It’s only been two weeks, but guess what? I’ve kissed ten boys so far — all of them on the lips, and last night a boy named Sam slipped his hand all the way up my skirt.

Thank you so much for sending me to this camp! Can you send me some cupcakes from Dawson’s so I can share with all my new friends? :- )

Love you,

Mariah

PS — You were right about Liam. He is a very good peer counselor. He’s so good, that he told me he wants to kiss me, too! (I don’t mind when he calls me Baby Mariah.)

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Smiling, I make sure every word is spelled correctly and grab a bottle of white-out as I read over the word “skirt.”

“Dress” would sound way better ... He slipped his hand all the way up my “dress” ...

As I’m putting the finishing touches on my letter, I hear one of the girls from my cabin, Madison, call out to me.

“There you are, Baby Mariah.” She steps under the big oak tree I’ve claimed as my personal refuge, carrying a dodge ball. “Are you going to get up, or are you too good to play dodge ball with us?”

“Huh?” I looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, everyone is about to play dodge-ball and you’re way over here all alone. I mean, I personally would love for you to play with us, but if you’d rather stay here and write in solitude ...”

“No, I definitely want to play.” I stand up, dusting the dirt off my shorts and feeling completely surprised. The girls have never asked me to join in on any games.

Maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all...

I fold my letter and place it into my back pocket. Then I follow Madison across Camp Briar’s main lawn to where all the girls from my bunk are standing around.

“Good, you found her. Now we finally have an even number,” Jocelyn (a girl I totally loathe) says, as we approach. “Since Madison picked first last time, it’s my turn.”

I stand in the huddle and watch one by one as everyone’s name is called before mine. After a few minutes, it’s already down to the last two girls, me and a girl named Beth, who has a bad knee that causes her to walk really slowly. I’ve never seen her run and she hates dodge-ball with a passion.

“This is such a hard choice,” Jocelyn looks back and forth between us. “But I actually want to win so ... Beth!”

Beth looks over at me and smiles. Then she literally struggles to walk ten feet over to her new team.

I stand still and alone, waiting for Madison to put me out of my misery and call my name, but she doesn’t. She turns her back and whispers to her teammates for several minutes, and then she turns around.

“Mariah,” she says, smiling. “I’m sure you don’t really want to play with us, right?”

“I do want to play.” I look down at my shoes before looking back up. “You said that ... You came and invited me.”

“I did, but that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I thought you’d have to be on the other team.” She shrugs. “We all lose sometimes though, I guess.”

“So, I don’t get to play at all?”

“Look ...” She walks over to me, looking smug. “The best thing you can do right now is go away. You can even keep score from afar, if you like, and pretend like you’re on my team. And you know what? I won’t even tell the bunk leaders that you ditched us earlier for writing. I’ll tell them you participated in dodge-ball and played well, so you won’t get in trouble.”

She squeezes my shoulder, giving me one of her fake smiles before walking away to rejoin the other girls.

I feel tears starting to form at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Instead, I walk away and head back to where I always go during these summers, to the oak tree where no one can bother me. 

I slump down to the grass and read my letter again, wishing my mom would believe me when I tell her how mean the girls here are. Just like last summer, I’ve mailed her a letter every week, but none seem to warrant her making a special coveted trip to come get me. All she does is call and assure me that I’ll be okay. That, and attempt to convince me that I need to be someplace where I can be challenged, and that Camp Briar “was literally founded for girls who are beyond smart. Girls like you. It should be heaven on earth for you.”

A stray tear hits my letter and I lean back against the tree, looking out over the “heaven” that Camp Briar is supposed to be.

The camp sits on over twenty acres of land and it’s separated by a massive, sparkling green lake. There are tons of different factions within the camp, but the side I’m stuck on is for gifted girls and the other side is for gifted boys. (Why Liam wants to be here instead of at the sports camp with Zach, I’ll never know ...)

Even though all the kids share the massive mess hall and the lake, the only person I know here is Liam, but he’s too popular to talk to me. He’ll occasionally wave and say hello, but he never does much more than that.

After an hour passes, I notice that a lot of campers are starting to head toward the mess hall, but I decide to stay put. I’m not looking forward to eating another dinner at a table by myself, and I’ll wait until the dodge-ball game ends, so I can rush over and pretend like I was with them the whole time.

Another stray tear starts to fall, but I wipe it away before it can make it down my face.

“Mariah?” A familiar voice says. “Is that you?”

I don’t answer. I just look up, as Liam walks closer to me.

“What are you doing over here?” He asks. “It’s pizza night in the mess hall.”

“So?” I hesitate for a while. “I’ll head inside once the game is over.”

He looks over at the girls who are now laughing and high-fiving each other. “Why aren’t you playing with them?”

“Because I didn’t get picked, and also because they don’t like me ...”

Looking at me, he slumps down against the tree and sits next to me. “I don’t think that’s true. I just think it’s because you’re the youngest girl at the camp.”

“So, that makes it okay?” I glare at him.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying you shouldn’t take it personal and that they’re assholes.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “What’s this?” He picks up the folded paper that’s between us.

I glance at the paper in his hands and gasp.  My letter must have fallen out of my pocket.

“It’s nothing!” I try and grab it from him, but he stands up and unfolds it.

“If it’s nothing, you won’t care if I read it.” He steps back as he begins to read.

“Liam, give it back!” I demand. “Give it back right now!”

He turns away from me and continues reading — holding the letter up high after I lunge at him to grab it.

“You’ve kissed ten boys?” He smiles. “Why are you lying about something like that?”

“Liam, please ...”

I make one last attempt to get the letter from him, but it’s no use. My small fists against his back are no match. He reads the entire thing, letting out a low laugh as he reaches the end and finally hands it back to me.

“Thanks.” I snatch it from his hand and debate whether I should ever talk to him again.

“I’ve never called you Baby Mariah,” he says as he rejoins me on the grass.  “I’ve called you a brat, a pain in my ass, and Zach’s annoying tag-along, but never Baby Mariah.”

“Those nicknames are so much better ...”

“They are,” he says. “And when did I ever say that I wanted to kiss you? I would never.”

“Trust me, I would never let you.” I cringe at the thought. “I only wrote all that stuff to convince my mom to let me come home because as you can see —” I point at the girls who are now heading to pizza night. “The chance of me gaining any friends over the next few weeks are slim to none.”

“I see ...” He sits silent for a few minutes, looking at me. Then he clears his throat. “You and I can be friends, Mariah.”

I turn and look at him with a skeptical look, trying to figure out if he’s being serious. With the exception of the past five minutes, he’s never paid me that much attention. I’ve always been the invisible third wheel in their friendship, and unless Zach or my mom has specifically asked him to “look after” me or help me with a bike or something, the two of us don’t really interact that much.

“Liam, you hate me. How can we be friends?”

“You’re the one who hates me.” He rolls his eyes. “You’ve been mean and rude to me since my family moved into your neighborhood. And you only talk to me if Zach is around.”

I try to think of a rebuttal to that, but when I think about it, I realize I’m guilty of treating him like crap, too.

“I’m serious, Mariah.” He holds out his hand. “I don’t have any close friends who are girls and I think you should be my first one. Friends?”

I’m too excited about the idea of finally having a friend here, so I don’t hesitate.  “Friends.”