Home > Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe(8)

Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe(8)
Author: Sarah Mlynowski

When we get to Upper Field, I see the smoke wafting up into the sky. A bunch of the counselors are sitting in a circle on their towels around the fire.

Danish is holding a stick over the fire with a marshmallow on it. “Hi, all!” she says. “Grab some sticks! We’re making s’mores!”

“OMG, amazing!” Janelle cries. “S’mores are the best! I live for marshmallows.”

Lis and Talia spread out their towels and sit down side by side on the ground. Janelle runs off to look for sticks. I stand still, debating what I want to do. I am not that into s’mores, but I love a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

Gavin pulls his stick out of the flames. His marshmallow is on fire. He blows it out in a massive, showy huff. “You look confused,” he says to me, pulling his charred marshmallow off his stick. “Want me to make you one?”

Eleven-year-old me would not believe that hot Gavin was offering to make me a s’more. Every girl in my bunk had a crush on him. If I remember correctly, he went out with Zoe Buckman for two weeks, then dumped her, which made her act like even more of a bitch, and him even hotter.

“No thanks,” I say. “You kind of killed yours.”

“What? Killed it? Are you kidding? I did that on purpose!”

“You burnt it to a crisp on purpose?”

“Absolutely did!”

“I do not want a burnt marshmallow. But I would like to borrow your stick.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I am very particular about my marshmallow roasting,” I say.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and hands it to me.

I reach for the bag of marshmallows and spear one on the pointy end of the stick. I gently hold it over the fire, careful not to let it burn.

I watch it slowly turn gold. Gavin is standing beside me.

“Good technique,” he says. “Are you all settled in?”

“Don’t distract me,” I say. “I’m focusing.”

“Watch out for the flying bat,” he says.

“I don’t believe you,” I say.

“Now there’s a flying cat,” he says.

“Now you’re just rhyming.”

“I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it.”

I laugh and turn to look at him. He’s smiling. He has a nice smile. Always did.

When I look back, my marshmallow is on fire. “Crap!” I yell, and he laughs again.

I attempt to blow it out. Finally, the fire is gone. My marshmallow is burnt, but not terribly. I wait for it to cool, pull it off, and pop it in my mouth. Mmm. Gooey.

“Good?”

“Not bad. A little charred.” I smile at him.

“Sam, come sit!” Talia says.

I hand Gavin back his stick, wave, and scooch in beside her. We’re only about a foot back from the fire, and the flames warm my face.

“What should we sing?” Botts asks.

Janelle is sitting beside him.

Priya is sitting on the other side of him with a guitar in her lap. She starts strumming the opening cords to something that sounds familiar.

“Oh! Good call!” Botts says. “A long, long time ago—” he sings.

The staff jumps in. “I can still remember how—”

My lips feel sticky from the marshmallow, but I sing along to “American Pie” too.

We sing “Hey There Delilah,” “Wonderwall,” and “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” The night gets darker and the smoke gets higher and we run out of marshmallows. At around eleven, a chill sets in. Janelle is deep in conversation with one of the swim staff, but Lis says she’s getting cold, so the three of us head back.

I stare up at the sparkling sky as we walk. The stars are everywhere, like white paint splattered across a black canvas.

“I missed the stars,” I say. “There are no stars in the city.”

“What do you mean?” Talia asks.

“Too much light pollution,” I explain.

“No stars! That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Lis says. “We have a ton of stars in Long Island.”

“North Caldwell, too,” says Talia.

“It is pretty sad,” I say. “You don’t even realize it, though, until one day, you do. It’s hard to see the moon too. Not as hard, but it’s always hidden by buildings.”

Before going back to the bunk, I stop at the secret spot by the showers to send a quick text to Eli.

Me: Good night! Good morning! I hope you had a great flight. I sang songs by the campfire. Miss you. Love you.

I read through my other texts too, and write back to my friends from NYU, and my mom, and my dad, and then head back to my cabin before I get eaten by a bear. Kidding. I’m sure there aren’t actual bears at camp. Mosquitoes, yes; bears, no.

Hopefully.

I’m in bed when Priya sticks her head through the door sheet. “Everyone here?” I take a moment to admire her perfectly arched eyebrows.

“Aye,” calls Lis, from her bed.

“Yeah,” I say. “Janelle is in the bathroom. Not sure where Danish is.”

“She’s in the head staff office answering some parent emails,” Priya says. I remember the head staff office being by the Dining Hall. It’s the office above where the doctor lives. “Good night, ladies. See you in the morning.”

Her head disappears and then the front door slams behind her.

I look at my phone one last time before bed. No signal. I’m glad I sent a text, though, so Eli will arrive to a message from me. I wish I could say good night from bed. At school, he lucked out with a very absent roommate, so I slept over almost every night. But whenever we weren’t together, we would text each other good night, or a kissy emoji. I plug in the phone beside my bed and leave it on a shelf. Lis and Talia are getting changed and climbing into bed.

“Hey there,” Janelle says, joining us. “Did someone come in?”

“It was Priya checking on us,” I say. “Do they always do that or was she just worried one of us fell into the bonfire?”

“They always do it,” Lis says. “One of the head staff comes around every night to make sure all the staff members are tucked into our cabins and not out gallivanting around the camp.”

“Got it,” I say.

“Janelle, will you turn off the lights?” Talia asks.

“Just gimme a minute,” she says, and strips off her pants. She takes off her bra, and climbs into her sleeping bag in her tank top.

“You forgot to turn off the lights,” Lis says.

“Oh! Right! Sorry!” She gets out of her sleeping bag and turns them off. The room is dark, but the porch light is still on.

“Outside one too?” Lis asks.

“Oops!” Janelle says. She runs outside without pants and runs back into her sleeping bag. “Done!”

“Thank you,” Lis says.

“Wait, Danish is still out,” I say.

Janelle laughs. “On it!” She runs back outside again.

She’s a trooper, that’s for sure. I pull my comforter up to my chin.

“I love this place,” Janelle says, getting back inside her sleeping bag. “I’m so glad I’m here. I’m glad you guys are here too. Are you glad you’re here?”

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