The assembly thankfully doesn't allow for much conversation between me and Lizzie, since everyone is listening to Miss Rodriguez. She's standing on the large, outdoor stage and explaining what the summer will hold. The microphone in her hand amplifies her voice over the crowd of campers and counselors. We're all sitting on the wooden bleachers, many of us using our hands or hats to block our eyes from the slowly descending sun. I pretend to listen to all the information about the different programs and activities (I don't really need to, since all those hours looking over the website and brochures with Mei mean I pretty much know everything she's saying already) while the word friend still pings around my brain, taunting me.
How is it that in less than an hour, I already managed to screw up one of the major parts of my plan? I should've known better-- having acquaintances is fine at first glance, until you realize that a lot of the time, acquaintances become friends. Lizzie seems really nice and all, but I'd hate to let her think we're about to get all buddy-buddy when at most, I just thought we'd have the occasional conversation so I wouldn't go totally crazy from lack of socialization.
This is why, after Miss Rodriguez wraps up her presentation with a cheesy yet endearing, "So welcome to Camp Create It-- let's make some art!" and Lizzie gets distracted by a pair of girls who come up to her as everyone is heading down the bleachers, I take the opportunity to slink away.
I hide myself in the sea of campers and head back to the girls' cabins by myself. I'll admit, I don't feel that great about it. It feels rude to leave her like that, but I try to tell my conscience that most likely, those two girls were her friends-- she probably hasn't even realized I'm gone yet.
I pass groups of chatting campers, many hiding in the spots of shade provided by the trees. A few counselors walk around, joking with each other or talking to confused-looking campers. I wipe my forehead, sweaty from sitting under the sun for so long.
I head to the bathroom area to wash up for dinner, which my growling stomach is glad to know is in about fifteen minutes. The bathrooms offer a little respite from the heat, but not much. I spend a few minutes in front of the mirror, tying up my long brown hair, hoping it'll help me cool down.
After I use the bathroom, as I'm washing my hands, two girls enter the restroom-- the same ones who approached Lizzie on the bleachers.
Why isn't she with them?
"I can't believe she actually showed up," the shorter one says, heading into one of the green stalls. "I mean, after what happened last year, I probably would've forced my parents to let me move states."
I stiffen, continuing to scrub my hands. Is she talking about Lizzie? Probably not, but they were just with her.
"It wasn't that bad," the other girl replies, walking up to a sink and fixing her hair in the mirror.
"Are you kidding?" There's a pause, sounds of rummaging, and then a flush. I stop washing my hands, knowing it'll look suspicious if I stand here scrubbing my skin raw for their entire conversation. I grab a paper towel from the dispenser as the girl exits her stall, continuing. "Rising out of the water with my boobs on display for half the camp is like, my worst nightmare."
"I feel sort of mean that we asked her about it. I mean, she looked pretty upset."
The other girl shrugs, hardly looking sympathetic as she washes her hands. "I guess. But she has to know people aren't just gonna forget something like that. Lizzie's Titties is like, the biggest incident this camp has ever had."
I have to stop my eyes from widening at the blunt confirmation as I pretend to fix my shirt in the mirror, tucking it into my shorts with what probably looks like slow-motion. Lucky for me, they're too engrossed in their conversation to pay me any attention.
"Come on, don't call it that-- she had to deal with it enough last year. We should just let her forget about it."
Another shrug. "Sure, I will. But we both know who won't."
The way she says it makes me sure that whoever it is, I don't want to meet them.
With that, they leave, moving on to other gossip as the door swings shut behind them. I lean against the sink, realizing that not only did I ditch Lizzie, but it wasn't to let her catch up with her friends-- I left her at the mercy of two gossip-hungry girls.
It clicks why the boys in the mess hall were ogling her and laughing. The girls pretty much spelled out for me what happened, and from the sounds of it, it's still Camp Create Its' hottest gossip despite it happening last year. Big enough of an incident to have its own stupid, barely-rhyming name.
It also occurs to me that despite us being around other campers for most of our time together, I didn't see Lizzie talk or even wave to anybody else. She just stuck with me, probably figuring I was one of the few people who could look her in the eye without thinking of what happened to her.
My heart sinks, enough to make me consider revising my plan.
Damn you, empathy.
But really, would it hurt that much to spend time with Lizzie? As long as I make sure I don't get attached, as long as I remember that something like what happened with Mei is always a possibility... then where's the harm? I can still protect myself from getting hurt, right?
Deciding that I am right, and that my guilt for leaving her in that situation is getting a little too heavy to carry, I speed-walk out of the bathroom and towards cabin thirteen.
My shoes clonk on the wooden steps as I hurry inside, which is empty except for Lizzie, who's unpacking with an uncharacteristically blank expression.
"Hey!" I greet, walking over as she looks up. "Sorry for disappearing-- bathroom emergency." It's a lie, but I try not to think about it too much, not wanting to add to my list of reasons to feel guilty.
Her face lights up. "Oh! No biggie."
I sit on my bed, facing her. "So, how's the food here, anyway?" I ask as my stomach berates me for not grabbing a snack earlier. It's small talk, but I wasn't prepared to make much conversation this summer.
Before she can respond, a bright pink blur flies through the open door of our cabin, and the sound of male laughter trails in from outside. The distant voice of a counselor tells them to get back to their own cabins as the object hits the floor, skidding to a halt at Lizzie's feet. I can finally make out what it is: a bathing suit top.
She sighs, sitting down on her bed and staring at the garment. I stay quiet, not knowing what to do-- I don't want to let her know that I already know about "Lizzie's Titties" after being here for less than a day, but I don't know what a normal reaction to almost getting pelted with a bathing suit would be, either.
"Delena, I..." she trails off, pauses for a few seconds, and shakes her head. Her voice sounds totally defeated when she speaks up again. "I shouldn't have had you walk around camp with me."
"What do you mean?"
"I had something happen to me last year-- long story short, I tried to make my own bathing suit top in a workshop, it caused me to have a major wardrobe malfunction during swim time at the lake, and I've been the butt of a thousand jokes like this ever since."
She leans down, picking up the top and flinging it out of the door. It lands on the porch in a defeated looking pile. "I'm basically the camp's biggest laughing stock. Only a few people even risked being seen with me for the last four weeks last year. If you hang around me, it could be social suicide for the rest of your summer-- it wasn't fair of me to take advantage of the fact that you didn't know. I'm sorry."
If you take the guilt I felt before and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't compare to how much I'm feeling now. She's apologizing for trying to befriend me, all because she's worried how it'll affect my social status? From the sounds of things, Camp Create It isn't the artistic dreamland Mei and I thought it would be-- instead, it sounds a lot like high school.
"If most of the people here are willing to outcast you for something like that, social suicide sounds like the smart option," I say. The fact that they're still holding something like that against her a whole year later reminds me of my own run-in with Rita and her pants-peeing rumor. Just another reminder to never underestimate the cruelty of the teenage population.
Lizzie lets out a laugh, her expression brightening again. It's sort of perfect, actually-- Lizzie doesn't know it, but becoming popular was pretty much the exact opposite of my plan for the summer. If hanging out with her means the rest of the camp avoids me, who cares?
Outside, the speakers announce that dinner is about to be served.
I stand, motioning my head to the door. "Come on, let's eat."
Lizzie grins, hopping to her feet. It looks like my plan for enjoying the summer just got a lot less lonely.
Any opinions on Lizzie's incident? 👙
Do you think it's smart for Delena to hang out with Lizzie? 🤔