“Yeah?” I turn away from him so he can’t tell I already knew that, and bite into my burger. It tastes like cardboard.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning into me slightly. “We should go together.”
“You asking me out?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He grins. “I am. You interested?”
“Yes.” I nod, feeling warm all over. “I will definitely go on a date with you next time it rains.”
He laughs. “I better find a way to make it rain, then,” he says.
I almost choke on the fry I’m eating, suddenly picturing him in a thong, gyrating onstage as dollar bills rain down around him.
“You okay?” he asks, patting me on the back. He hands me my cup of bug juice and I take a sip.
“Thanks, sorry,” I say. “You just said make it rain, and I thought of strippers.”
“Oh.” He smiles, a little tightly. “Yeah, ha.”
“Sorry, should I not have said strippers?”
He laughs. “No. You can say strippers. But I’m not wearing body glitter for you. I don’t think that’s hot.”
“Yeah.” I nod, though I think it sounds very hot. “That’s not what I meant.”
He puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes, briefly, then pulls it back. “But play your cards right and I’ll tell you what does sound hot,” he says, leaning into my ear. I must flush scarlet, because across from me, Ashleigh raises her eyebrows. She’s doing what she promised and is talking to Paz, who broke up with her girlfriend over the school year.
“I should tell you,” I say to Hudson. “I’m … not … that is, I’m … I think you’re really cute, and you seem great, and we click, but a date first,” I say. “You know what I mean?”
He leans back slightly, but he’s smiling, looking at me a little differently. Before he was almost predatory, but now he looks sweeter. “I get exactly what you mean. I promise, we can take it easy. First I have to work on that rain, right?”
I laugh. “Maybe stripping is the way to do it, though.”
His smile changes again, wolfish. His gray-blue eyes narrow and his eyebrows wiggle. “I would have said that, but I thought you wanted to take it easy.”
I lean into him, knocking our shoulders. “I do. I’m just offering helpful suggestions. I want it to rain, too.”
“So, maybe,” he says, like he’s just coming up with it, “we try going and hanging out together—a date-like situation—even if it doesn’t rain?”
“That’s such an interesting idea,” I say, playing along. “I think I could go for that. Though, I’m new. What would we do, if we can’t watch a movie?”
“We have time after dinner before the talent show. There’s plenty to do—people like to hang out at the boathouse, or there’s a bonfire at the flagpole, sometimes. Or …” He lights up. “I could give you a tour. Since you’re new.”
“That sounds nice,” I say. “I’d love to see the sights.”
He laughs. “In fact, since we wouldn’t want it to rain for that—we could do it right after dinner. Tonight. Before the counselor talent show.”
“Tonight?” I ask. This is really going way too well. “I …” I glance over at Ashleigh, who’s smiling at Paz. “Ashleigh said she wanted to show me something. A tree? But after that, I’m all yours.”
I turn back to him, and his perfect skin has colored slightly—the palest of pink. “Tree?” he asks. “A special tree?”
I shrug and use all my acting skills not to smile. “That’s what she said.”
“You can skip that, though, right?” He turns to his food and starts gobbling it down. I finally found his one flaw: He’s not a cute eater. Why does that make him generally cuter?
“Seems rude,” I say. “She’s my bunkmate, and she’s made a real effort to become my friend. You want to come? Do you know what tree she means?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I think I do.”
I stare at him in silence, and take another bite of my burger, another fry. To my right, I hear Brad and George cackling in unison at something.
“Something wrong?” I ask gently.
“It’s fine,” he says. “Just … you should know. The tree. There was this guy, Hal. And he looked kind of like me. And his name is on the tree. A lot.”
It takes every inch of training not to let my eyes widen in shock. This is not where I thought this would go. He’s actively pretending to be someone else.
Well … that makes two of us.
“There are names on the tree?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He smiles, takes a long drink of water. He seems more relaxed. Apparently he’s happy with his own plan. “But that’s all I’ll say. Keep it a surprise. It’s really … like, amazing. Nothing you’d see anywhere else.”
“Okay ….” I try to sound suspicious. But inwardly, I’m freaking out. This is not part of the plan. I take a long drink of juice and finish my burger just as the dessert platter comes around—cupcakes, very slightly burnt.
Our thighs press together as we eat—chocolate is chocolate, burnt or not—and when Joan dismisses us, we walk together outside, where Ashleigh is waiting for me.
“Come on,” she says with absolutely no inflection. “I’m going to show you the tree I told you about now.” She waves. The acting is far worse than I could have imagined. I glance up at Hudson, worried she’s just given everything away, but he’s smiling, apparently not seeing anything wrong.
“Okay,” I say. “Hudson is coming, too.”
“He is?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he says. “I know some people think I’m on there. But that was Hal. He looks like me, but he’s not here anymore.”
Ashleigh starts to laugh. “What?” she asks.
“I’m just saying …” He pauses, sees George and Brad, and waves them over. “Brad, bro, you know me, right? I’m not on the tree, right?” Brad furrows his brow, confused. “But Hal, the guy who isn’t here anymore—he is. And he looks a lot like me, so people thought …”
Ashleigh keeps laughing, but she’s trying to hide it at least now. I can’t blame her. This is what happens when non-theater people try to do improv.
“Riiiiight,” Brad says after a long moment of Hudson and Brad staring at each other. “Hal. Yeah. Hudson’s never been on the tree.”
“What is this tree?” I ask—my acting being the best going on in the immediate area.
Ashleigh stops trying to hide the laugh and bends over. “I can’t,” she says. “I … George.”
George immediately steps in front of her. “I’ll show you the tree, darling,” he says, keeping a perfectly calm face. “Ashleigh seems to be having one of her moments.”
“Yeah,” I say, “that sounds great, thanks.” It’s so nice to have a professional scene partner.
George turns around and I follow him, along with Hudson, Brad, and a still-giggling Ashleigh. George leads us past the kickball field, and the soccer field, into the woods. We follow a trail and come to a huge tree, wide around enough that four or five people would have to link hands to encircle it. It’s dark, but not so dark I can’t see what’s carved into its bark—what I’m supposedly here to see. Hearts, lots of them, and in the hearts, names and initials. Tom and Steven, Becky and Jessica, LR and CS. Hundreds of them. And lots of them—lots—are HAL and … well, some boy. HAL. Hudson Aaronson-Lim. Except nope, not anymore. Now it’s Hal. An imaginary person. I walk forward and run my hands over the carvings.