“It doesn’t really matter if he follows us—he just has to know we went off to see it. But if he does follow, then I can talk about how I’d never be just another conquest for a man like that,” I say, putting my hand to my chest and looking like a Victorian woman who’s just been offended.
“Maybe not like that if you want to keep this charade up,” George says.
Ashleigh snorts a laugh.
“I just need a reason to be cold to him,” I say. “Make it clear I want a real relationship.”
“And what makes you think he won’t just move on to an easier guy?” George asks.
“Who else fits his profile?” I ask. “Who he hasn’t already taken to the Peanut Butter Pit, I mean.”
“There might be some new guys,” Ashleigh says.
“Or who knows, maybe he’ll repeat.”
“We have a connection,” I say. “He’s already made his move. He’s not looking at anyone else, and he likes a challenge. He might fake the long-term-relationship-guy thing at first, but he’ll take it slow. And slow is all I need to make him really fall in love.”
George shoots a glance at Ashleigh in the mirror. They both have the “our friend is nuts” look on their faces. Behind us, the other campers start to come in. Jordan walks in just as George and Ashleigh are looking at each other and giggles.
“Maybe you could tell Brad, too,” I say to George. “Let him know I’m a romantic, not just another mark on the tree, and Hudson will have to really woo me. Y’know, since my head injury.”
George rolls his eyes. “Well, I do like a bigger role,” he says. “Though I usually prefer comedies to outright farce.”
“Did you hurt your head?” Jordan asks, hopping in the shower.
“No,” I reply quickly.
“It’s just part of the plan, darling!”
“The romance plan?” Jordan asks, sticking their head out of the shower. They have very short blunt bangs and the rest of their head is nearly shaved, giving their face a very punk vibe, which always amuses me, because Jordan is a giant softie who has seen every romantic comedy movie ever, multiple times. “I LOVE the plan! It’s like Pillow Talk!” They pop back into the shower. “Or How to Marry a Millionaire, what with the planning. How to marry a masc-ulaire!” They giggle.
“Everyone knows?” I ask George and Ashleigh.
“The cabin does.” Ashleigh shrugs. “Did you think no one would notice? Or figure it out?”
I laugh. “Okay. That doesn’t matter, because it’ll be great,” I say. “It will work great.” I hope. I’ve turned over all the ways to do this during the course of the year. Getting Hudson’s attention was straightforward, but holding it for longer than two weeks is the hard part. But this should work. Not just saying I’m an LTR kind of guy, but making myself a challenge for him. He’s never had one of those before, not really, but everyone knows how competitive he is. Always has to be on the winning team in capture the flag. Always has to run through the obstacle course the fastest. Well, he wouldn’t give up on a guy he liked, right? Just another challenge. And a challenge means time, time together, which leads to us falling in love. It’s a solid plan, or so I tell myself as George and Ashleigh exchange another look and George goes to change. Definitely not a plan I got watching too many old romantic comedies.
“So I have to be the bad guy, then?” Ashleigh says, crossing her arms and leaning against the bathroom wall. “Lead you to the tree, warn you of Hudson’s manizing ways?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
“I’m not an actor, you know. I’m a techie.”
“No acting required,” I say. “You clearly think this is a bad idea.”
“Look,” she says, walking back into the cabin, where George has slipped on a bright green satin robe with big flowing sleeves, embroidered with blue carnations. I have a matching purple one with gold-and-white lilies—we both bought them at the same time when I found the link online and sent it to him two years ago, between summers, and brought them last year. But I left mine at home this summer. “It’s not that I don’t want you to get with him, if you think that’ll make you happy. It’s just … this whole plan. Pretending to be someone else. Where does it end?”
“We fall in love,” I say, following her.
“And then what?” she asks. “You keep being Del the rest of your life?”
I shrug. “Once we’re in love, I’ll gradually turn back into Randy.”
“The guy he didn’t fall in love with,” Ashleigh says. “You see where I’m confused? This script is all over the place.”
“It’s all about how you play it,” I say. “Besides, what’s the worst that happens? I don’t get the guy?” Please let that not happen. Please, please, please. I force myself to smile. “Then all this will be over, and you won’t have anything to worry about.”
“Except your broken heart,” she says.
“Well, then you can say you told me so.” Please oh please let her not have a reason to tell me she told me so.
“Darlings, let’s not fight. Randy has a plan, and he’s asking us to help, and if it all goes sideways, then at least it will be a story to tell people, right? It’s only love, no need to take it so seriously.”
“Right,” I say, but I’m holding my smile so tightly, my jaw aches.
“Fine, fine,” Ashleigh says. “I just want it on record that I don’t see this ending well, and I don’t like you changing who you are just for some guy. You can find a guy who loves you for you.”
“But they won’t be Hudson,” I say. “If you just had to change your wardrobe a little to make Janice fall for you, would you?”
Ashleigh climbs into her bed. “Yeah, okay, I get it,” she says.
Mark walks in just as she finishes talking. “What?” he asks. “Pool time too boring for you? Too much gossip you didn’t want the camp to hear?”
“Something like that,” George says, plucking a sandalwood fan from under his pillow and opening it. “Plus my hair needs time to air-dry before dinner.”
“Well, at least that’s a decent excuse,” Mark says, going into the counselor’s room (we’ve seen inside; it’s miniscule, with two twin beds and a nightstand, but I guess counselors have earned a little more privacy). “Dinner is at six, so be dressed by then.”
A moment later, the other campers start coming in, showering off and changing into their dinner best. Even George, after his hair is dry enough, changes into a purple T-shirt with a picture of Ariana Grande as the Virgin Mary on it and a pair of very short black shorts. Someone puts on the Bye Bye Birdie soundtrack and everyone sings along, practicing for their auditions tomorrow. I smile and listen and sometimes sing along, even though tomorrow will be very different for me.
FIVE
Last Summer
“He is so pretty,” I say again, lying in the grass and watching Hudson run across the green. It’s capture the flag during color wars, and George, Montgomery, and I have gotten ourselves captured so we can sit on the sidelines and watch. Montgomery is in green cutoffs, so short you can see his ass from the bottom, and a black crop top. George and I didn’t want to recycle our outfits, so we’re in pink and purple, respectively—but our nails are painted green, and conveniently the silk fan I brought from home is a pretty chartreuse, so I’ve been carrying it around in my back pocket, and now I’m fanning myself with it. Hudson has his shirt off and he gleams with sweat as he runs across the soccer field. I might be drooling a little. But the fan covers it.