To think, I was worried about what my mom would say when I got sent home a day early.
Getting arrested is so much worse.
"You don't have to do this, Dan," Phil whispered to me.
I shifted in my handcuffs. The sun had barely risen, and a smell of smoke was present still, even after hours passing. A thin line, it rose all the way into the sky, like a cry for help, dispersing and mixing with the overhead clouds so far that, at one point upward, it was no longer noticeable.
"You really don't," Peej agreed.
"I want to," I told them.
Chris was staring at his feet, seemingly still a little shaken. James was talking to the police with Mr. L, who was, quite frankly, looking generally pissed.
"But you weren't the only one," Peej argued. "We all did it. It's not right for you to take the blame."
"I deserve the blame," I replied truthfully. "Besides, we can't break your perfect record, now, can we?"
He smiled softly, looking away.
I could feel the whole camp watching me. They weren't outside, hadn't been allowed. The only reason Phil, Chris, and Peej had been allowed to stand there was because they were scheduled to be picked up themselves any minute for their day-early suspension. Everybody else was staring through the windows, like it was a tank at the aquarium. There were six police cars parked, lights still flashing. A firetruck, too, next to the main hall, of which was damaged beyond repair. Firemen circled the burnt building, inspecting it, trodding through soot.
"Well, on the bright side, you're no longer the center of attention," I told Phil.
He laughed. "You're right. I only had five police cars come."
I laughed, too. Even if I was probably going to jail, I didn't regret anything. That had been the best fire I'd set yet, it was what made up for all that'd happened at that stupid camp. It was my revenge. My justice. My own Bruce Wayne moment.
James walked back over to us, seeming rather pleased with himself.
"I've got good news and bad news," he said promptly. "Which first?"
"The bad news," I told him.
"The bad news is that your mom is on her way."
I felt my heart stop. Chris, Peej, and Phil all looked at one another.
"But the good news is that Mr. L isn't going to press charges."
"How did you manage that?" I asked.
He smiled devilishly. "Well, despite the fact the kitchen had been destoryed itself, certain files which proclaim that the food hadn't quite been meeting health regulations the past couple of years had miraculously been made into several copies over night."
"You didn't," Chris stated.
"I did," he said proudly.
We stared at him with wide eyes. James never stopped to amaze me. I suddenly lost all fervor of spite towards my dad leftover from the fire. The ashes of my grief had been rebuilt, resurrected, changed into something completely new: a sense of admiration for the man standing in front of me, who knew my dad on an entirely different level, one I never had and, now, never will.
James left once more to talk to Mr. L and my mom pulled up about a half hour later. Birds were chriping obnoxiously, as usual, entirely oblivious to the situation. Her bright, cotton candy blue car parked right next to the police ones, a strange contrast of color. I watched, from where I stood, as she got out and circled around to talk with the policemen.
"She doesn't look happy," Peej noted.
"Not at all," Chris agreed.
My mom, surprisingly, did not come over to me. She spoke for a few minutes, nodding and shaking her head at the appropriate times. She signed a few papers, crossed the Ts and dotted the Is, then got right back in her car and turned it on. The ignition growled into life, but she didn't move.
I stared anxiously as one of the policemen started in our direction. Keys jingled around his index finger and the badge pinned to his uniform glinted.
"You're free to go," he told me once in speaking range.
"Really?"
"Really." He nodded, stepping up to me and gesturing that I turn around. "Your mom wants you to grab your stuff to leave, now, though."
He unlocked my handcuffs before going back. The group of officers talked some more with Mr. L and the firefighters, who were done with their inspection and most likely discussing the damage and what it would cost to rebuild.
I turned to Phil, Peej, and Chris.
"This is it," I said.
They nodded, looking solemn. I smiled.
"Hey. Don't be upset. We'll text, right? Hang out again? You know, when my mom ungrounds me in twenty years."
They laughed.
"My dad is going to be here soon," Peej said. "He's picking Chris and I up. We'll walk with you to get your stuff."
"I'm coming, too," Phil added.
My hands now free, he grabbed one, pulling it tight and walking exceptionally closer to me. We went into our cabin and picked up our bags and suitcases, of which we had packed last night. I took my stuffed bear from where it sat on my pillow and put it into my backpack tenderly.
Chris and Peej headed out the door. I went to follow, but Phil held me back.
He looked away, partially nervous.
"I'm really going to miss you," he said.
I smiled. "Me too. But don't worry, okay? Be happy."
Phil nodded, though it didn't seem too sincere. I reached up and held onto him.
"Don't be sad, please. Your eyes are so blue. I hate when they don't look happy. Blue is too happy of a color for sad eyes."
He smiled, gently. I thought back to the smile from earlier in the night, when we were still enraptured by the burning building. I wondered when I would see that one again. The one that I had been trying all summer to get to and, finally, only as the world around us toppled in flames, achieved.
"Okay," he said.
I kissed him, hugged into the back of his shirt before we let go and had to walk out of the cabin. It felt like I was being broke in two as our hands separated for the last time that summer. The last time I would ever see this camp. I was stuck between being glad and being grievous, despite it not much of a loss on its own.
I didn't say goodbye. Not to any of them. Not even to Phil, really. Not because I didn't want to, just because I didn't need to. We all knew what was going to happen when we set that fire together, and that was goodbye enough. Burning the main hall was the biggest goodbye I could ever give, to both that goddamned camp and the people within it.
Chris, Peej, and Phil all watched me walk. My mom was silent as I entered the car, brothers sat backseat, asleep and most likely having been torn out of bed beforehand, since it was still early.
I pushed the feeling of dread from my stomach to the back of my mind, watching the trio wave from behind the police cars. I didn't wave back, but I'm sure they understood why.
I looked out the window as we pulled slowly from the dirt road, turning and going the opposite direction. We passed the, now almost completely empty, make-shift parking lot, down the fenced lane and underneath the welcoming sign. I saw, in a slow blur, the same flyer from the first day still on that pole. The message unchanged.
I didn't care if my mom was angry. I knew she would get over it. Eventually, things would change, and all the problems that I was worrying so much about would go away. Not naturally, of course, but over time.
I didn't care if I was still burning from the inside-out, because this wasn't the end of all things. Like those fires, my life would continue to move, to change, to devour and destory and eventually be put out.
The Best Summer Ever.
That's what the flyer said.
And it was. It really was.