That day, I really try to talk to boys. I talk to boys I’m not even interested in, because I feel like I should give people a chance. It’s a numbers game, I tell myself, because that’s what people are always saying to me.
I talk to one guy who’s a part-time children’s magician and has a collection of sparkly jackets. He tries to do a coin trick for me, but I can see him move the coin from one hand to the other. “Amazing,” I say.
I talk to a guy who loves to read, but only autobiographies. “I don’t trust biographers,” he says. “I think they tend to get it wrong.” I ask him whether there isn’t some value in a person who can give you perspective that you don’t have on yourself. He thinks for a minute. “Uh, I don’t know,” he says, “I’m pretty sure I have complete perspective on myself.” He writes my name on his favorite sheet.
I talk to boys who say sexist things without realizing it, and I don’t correct them. I talk to perfectly nice boys who love their cats, swim every day, are learning to cook, have been to twenty countries, and I tell myself to fall in love with one of them. But instead I zone out while they’re talking, flinch if they try to touch me. It’s stupid, because it means I’m still alone.
Nina Facetimes me while I’m walking back to my cabin. She’s brushing her teeth. Jens is walking around behind her with no shirt on.
“Ah!” says Nina, through toothpaste. “You look so cute!”
“Well, I feel disgusting, and it took forever to put on makeup because everyone was crowded around these small mirrors and the bathrooms are all dim and weird.”
“What?” asks Jens.
“I’m Facetiming Lee!” says Nina.
“Oh!” Jens comes over and puts his arm around Nina and leans toward the phone. “Hello, Lee! How is your love camp?”
“Kind of demoralizing,” I say.
“It’s just a numbers game,” says Nina.
“Did you meet any nice boys?” asks Jens.
“There are some nice boys, yeah.”
“Oh!” says Nina. “Who, who!” She spits and starts rinsing out her mouth, jostling the camera and ducking out of frame so that it’s just Jens for a moment. He seems unsure of where to look.
“I mean, no one that noteworthy. Um. I met a guy who’s a magician?”
“A magician, I love that!” says Nina. “Think of what a good story that’s gonna be, too. Like, that you guys met at this weird camp.”
“Unlike our story, which is very boring,” says Jens, smiling at her.
“Yeah,” says Nina. Nina met Jens at a party. “Really set a precedent for the rest of our relationship.”
Jens kisses her on the head and Nina smiles up at him.
“I have to go,” I say.
In my cabin, I crawl into my bunk. I’m probably lying on top of other people’s cum.
There’s one full day left and then we get to go home. At breakfast, one of the girls dressed in pink tells us this is our shot. “If you’ve been holding back,” she says, “or if you’ve been too scared to let someone know you’re into them, today’s the day to let loose!” Everyone starts looking around the room.
That’s when I notice Declan again. He’s seated facing away from me, by the door. I get this feeling like a bird flew too close to my face. The girl from the bus isn’t with him.
Up front, they’re explaining how there’s going to be this big final dance tonight. “The Ball,” they’re calling it.
I haven’t seen him in eleven months, since he dumped me. Maybe he’s had doubts but has been too embarrassed to contact me again. Nina kept saying that it wasn’t about me and that he had commitment issues. So maybe if he just saw me again and the stakes were lower, things would feel different. I remember him saying, “You must have been really lonely.” I think it to myself, like an incantation. Must have been lonely, must have been lonely.
“So get out there, and take a chance!” says the girl up front. Everyone gets up to leave and I make a beeline for Declan. Then someone steps into my path.
It’s the birthday party guy. Declan slips out the door. “Well, well, well, we meet again!” he says. “Mark,” he reminds me. He’s wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
“Yes!” I say. “I remember.”
“How’s your weekend going? I haven’t seen you since we got here.”
“It’s going fine,” I say.
“Yeah? Worth a vacation day?”
“Sorry?”
“Worth taking time off work?” he clarifies. “Using a vacation day?”
“Well, I actually told my boss my grandma died, so.”
Mark laughs. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you just say you were taking a day off to go upstate? That’s what I did.”
I try to laugh with him, but I’m suddenly confused. Why didn’t I do that? “I don’t know,” I say.