Hey, how ya doin? Here's a chapter. See you next year.
Quentin Hedgemouse and Phoebe Love are 16 years old, both having just finished their respective sophomore years. Honestly, Phoebe thinks it was good that her first summer of high school was so angst ridden and depressing. Once she cleared that hurdle she really knocked all the edges off her second year.
She's excelling academically, and with not much effort on her part. As it turns out developing good study habits for most of your life really ends up paying dividends for your gpa. Who woulda thought? She's not exactly crazy about chemistry, but hey the people who are end up being far and few between. No, she's one of the schools aces without even trying, at least that's the way it appears to everyone else. Same old responsible Phoebe, just now she's moved back in the other direction, a bit lighter, calmer, better to go with the flow.
They'd all blame Quentin for that, that is if any of her schoolmates or teachers could meet him which would require a level 12 security clearance issued by the Department of Homeland Securities Paranormal Investigations office or whatever it is that the Department of Mental Defense is issuing nowadays. If there's one thing that can be said about Quentin it's that his sense of personal identity has an amazing sense of continuity. If 16 year old Quentin met his 10 year old self right now they'd honestly just have a jam session and agree about how much they liked the same hip-hop jams from a decade ago. So yeah, Quentin's just…Quentin, except even more of the girls want to hang onto his arm now that he's somehow gotten even taller.
"Ancestors of Dutch descent daddy-o." Quentin offers as an explanation for his height when pressed. Phoebe just rolls her eyes at this and asks him never to use the word daddy-o again.
Bottom line: the two of them are about as in sync as they've ever been, which Phoebe posits as she winds down a particularly intense drum solo is an especially good thing for their music. Quentin would probably agree if he wasn't in the middle of finishing off their latest jam with the penultimate verse about his nonexistent dream car.
Finally the tune comes to a raucous conclusion, and both throw their hands down marking a definite ceasing point in the music as the crowd assembled in front of them break into cheers, whistles and applause.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls let's give it up for," Ranger Crueller checks his note cards again for the band name, oblivious to the fact that 'it' is already being 'given up for.' "The Levitation-Incineration Connection!"
The two high five as they leave the stage. It's the annual Whispering Rock talent show, always held later on in the summer just a few weeks before the graduating cadets are set to ship out for the last time.
2008 saw the camp bear witness to a moving performance by Mikhail where he staged a one man-wrestling match against a punching bag with a picture of Ric Flairs face glued to it and somehow lost.
The pair have a good track record at these events. It's not that their isn't any competition, but Raz's circus tricks just don't hold as much oomph as he might've hoped when the entire camp regularly seems him pretty much flying around on a daily basis; and while there are other legitimate performers neither JT's harmonic rendition of the Dukes of Hazard theme nor Clem and Crystal's five minute long continuous self affirmation cheers are quite as soul touching as they were intended to be.
Then there's Quentin and Phoebe, who've devoted much of their lives to their craft and who spend hours almost every day developing and keeping their skills sharp. When they get up on stage it doesn't look as much like a talent show production as it does a legitimate concert. It almost makes them feel bad about snagging a placement medal each and every year…almost.
"And also tonight we celebrate the continued golden era of our local pop rock hip-hop scene! So what does this bring us to? Four talent show gold medals and two silvers?" Nils asks around the fire that night at the secret society meeting.
"Five gold's and one silver," Phoebe corrects him as she flashes the crowd their latest golden medal, before quickly adding the qualifying year of their loss. "2006."
"Who knew Chloe was so strangely good at beat boxing?" Quentin nods in acknowledgement as both JT and Chops pass him by with congratulatory slaps across the back.
Their circles have grown larger over the years as new kids have moved in and the formerly designated 'tender brains' have slowly climbed up the ranks. It's all keeping with the tradition Phoebe and Raz hoped to establish all those years ago…ok so its only been three years, but the point still stands. Its become a thing around camp, and that little clearing they made back then still stands as this camps home away from home, packed with emergency provisions of snacks and magazines for the camper who just has to get away from it all.
Still there's a notion of responsibility that comes with being the new old kids on the block.
"Alright kiddos! Bedtime! Time to mosey on back to your bunks!" Crystal shouts in what is assuredly not a bedtime voice. There are groans from the younger ones, who are still totally of the mindset that they're 'like almost teenagers already and you're cramping my style.' There's much gnashing of teeth and dragging of feet, the new crowd hesitant to be broken away from the pack. In their minds, they're being sent off to bed just so the older kids can finally start engaging in the fun stuff. This is, of course exactly what's happening and like responsible teenagers it's their job to make sure the young-ins aren't around to witness it.
"Hey come on now, if it's not us getting on your case tonight it's going to be Milla tomorrow morning," Clem says, jumping in to back Crystal up.
Just like that they're on their feet and hustling off into the woods under the watchful eye of the cheerleading duo. It's a testament to most every camper's fear of making Milla angry at them even a single time.
Even some of the older crowd seem to be going along with them. It's understandable, for some of the advanced students or those in remedial classes there's psychic training tomorrow. In that world sleep is a necessity, not a commodity. There's calls of goodnight as they trudge back through the woods yawning and stretching, feet crunching the stones and dirt underfoot until even that fades and all are left with little else other than the crackling of the campfire.
Phoebe removes another graham cracker from its package and snaps it in half with her mind. Smores, she posits are so much easier when you don't have to go through the mess of toughing a gooey marshmallow and removing it from the fire poker with your hands. She bites into the confectionary peaceably, letting the cinnamon sugar of the breaded cracker temper the sweetness of her perfectly toasted gold and browned marshmallow.
This is the life, this is that teenage summer getaway she's always dreamed about. Out under the stars in a peaceful night surrounded by friends and absolutely no drama to wail on her brain and drag her from this blissful state.
"Alright you degenerates, who's ready for spin the bottle?"
Then again, some people like one Frankie Athens lived for nothing but the drama.
The equal measure of cheers and groans told all present just how split the group was on the classic spit swapping game. Kitty for example, with her manic Cheshire cat grin is totally into it whilst Chops face clearly says 'It's half past midnight, I've already downed three smores, a liter of root bear and I just want to go whack my head against my pillow and pass out.'
"Well you heard everyone girls," Elka says, turning to the best friend duo. It used to be that differences in age only mattered when you were young. For Elka this seemed to have worked backwards considering how much pride she took in constantly reminding the others that she was indeed a high school junior ("soon to be a senior and oh my gosh time moves so fast I'm going to miss you all so much"). A fact that only increased her overbearing 'I know more than you' attitude. "It's late and I'm sure that what we all really want…is to play truth or dare!"
Curse you Elka. Unfortunately the groundswell for this idea is even bigger. Phoebe turns her tired gaze to her left where Quentin sits and can't help but catch that excited gleam in his eyes. The chance to get Chops to chug another can of root bear while levitating upside down is an idea he just can't resist. From the dirty looks Lili is giving to Raz she can tell that similar feelings have arisen with the couple. It's too late now though, they're outnumbered. One last game of candor or challenge before they can all turn in.
"Guys this is so adolescent," Phoebe moans, tired head slumping up against Quentin's shoulder.
Frankie listens to the sentence, plays it back in her head and looks like she has to consider that for a long while before speaking again.
"I mean…yeah," she shrugs finally, completely agreeing. "So how we doing this beach? Around the circle or call and response?"
Maybe Frankie meant to say beach, maybe she meant to say something else, it's too late for her to figure out or care.
"Call and response," Kitty confirms without waiting for anyone's input. "Whoever gets tagged with a T or D gets to go next. It's the only way to make sure no one gets dog piled on."
It's a strangely noble statement for Kitty, especially for such a scandalous affair like Truth or…
"Ok I go first! Lili! Truth or Dare," Kitty shouts almost immediately after she lets her statement settle in.
And there it is.
"Truth," Lili says with a roll of her eyes. She's definitely in the former camp, this game would've seemed like a lot of fun…back before she had a boyfriend, which was now, by her count 6 years ago. She's playing it safe, she knows what's on Kitty's mind and she's not about to give in.
Kitty just licks her lips like there's blood in the water. She's taking this answer as a chance to prove that just because someone didn't pick dare doesn't mean they'll be spared from some hardcore, bone biting stuff in this game.
"So Lili," she begins sweetly. "Who was your first…"
Lili, calm and cool as a cucumber reaches beside her and raises Raz's hand, resting head on her other palm as she does so like this is the easiest thing she's done all night. It's Raz, whatever the question the answer is that she did it with Raz first, she has no regrets and she'd do it again.
Kitty is forced to retreat, she slides back up the log and crosses her arms, a pout on her face, mumbling something about monogamy all the while.
"Your move," she mumbles.
Lili sighs to herself and looks around the fire, trying to find a way to wind this thing down before it cuts any deeper into her sleep schedule. Kitty and Frankie…no, just no. Elka or Nils? No, absolutely no…JT? Perfect.
"JT," she asks in the most mild mannered voice she can manage, trying to portray her lack of malicious intent. "Truth or dare?"
The cowboy sighs to himself and dusts down his old dusty colored chaps before standing and adjusting his belt like the year is still 1871 and he's hauling cattle west. Lili briefly ponders her first thoughts on meeting JT, that this was just a kid looking for a gimmick who decided playing cowboy would be a nice way to grab peoples attention only to realize over the years that no, JT came from a rural ranching home where his life pretty much consisted of watching over animals and riding horses.
He's a little too earnest, a little too transparent and a little too good spirited. It all makes him the perfect candidate to try and kill the mean spirited party mood that's sprung up around here.
"I reckon half of us just wanna get to bed and the other half think the night's just gotten started," JT ponders aloud, vocalizing what everyone is thinking. "Well, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I'll take a dare Ms. Lili."
"Levitate Chops on his head and make him drink another root bear," Lili says finally deciding to give the crowd what they want. This provokes cheers from the boys and eye rolls from the girls as JT turns sorrowfully to his suddenly sick looking friend.
"Aw man, not again," Chops groans holding his stomach, now sure that root bear is going to be the death of him.
"Sorry pard'ner, them's the breaks," JT sighs, and with that he's swung up in the air as the boys watch on with rapt interest like this is Dodge City in the Wild West and they're watching a public execution.
JT for his part already has his eyes averted, looking around the circle for where he can best pass the buck off to. Making Chop's hurl again is always great fun, but he's also looking for a way to wind this down. That's when he spies her out of the corner of his eye. Phoebe Love, frizzy hair tied up behind her head, head phones lying unused around her neck, half asleep form sacked out up against Quentin. That's his ticket out of here. While Ms. Phoebe has never exactly been the most calm and collected of them all she's also a kindred spirit in the fight against nonsense.
Chops makes a retching sound as he hits the ground and runs for the bushes as polite and gentlemanly applause comes from the boys.
"Ms. Phoebe," JT calls politely. It takes Phoebe a little to realize that the game has summoned her. She blinks her eyes open once or twice trying to get her bearings as Quentin nudges her. She finds most all eyes are zeroing in on her, which unfortunately can only mean one thing… "Truth or dare?"
"Uhhh, ummm…" her mind is blanking here, she just needs to say something and get to bed. "Truth."
JT wracks his brain, what are these folks concerned with? Oh right! Romance. Something Phoebe has always insisted is completely beneath her. She's the skeptic, the eye roller, the girl who just wants to enjoy her youth instead of chasing trends. He'll shoot her a question, she'll give a mellow answer, take it home with the sleepiest of truths or dares, and they'll all be back home tuckered in the sheets then up the next morning with the chickens!
"You ever harbor a crush on any one of the feller's here at camp?" he asks mildly.
Frankie and Kitty nearly flop backwards off the log out of aggravation. This is so totally not how you play truth or dare. That might be a good question for someone who could run their mouth like Elka, or maybe even someone a little more cagey like Milka, but Phoebe? Seriously. Their Phoebe, the one who you can practically see static appearing in her eyes whenever the conversation turns to the topic of boys? Yeah right. The game is dead, they might as well just go home right now.
"Mmm, yeah a few," Phoebe mutters sleepily as she closes her eyes again, still clutching Quentin's sleeve. "Quentin last year was my latest."
Frankie and Kitty slowly rise from their prone positions, like zombies rising from the grave as this new information processes in their minds. JT finds himself stuck in his tracks, that was not the kind of answer he was hoping for. Lili's eyes are wide as she slowly, very, very slowly turns her head to look at her friend in disbelief.
Theirs silence around the campfire, nearly total silence except for the cracking and cackling of the burnings logs. It's quiet, too quiet, Phoebe opens her eyes back up to glance around the circle only to find every single eye on her.
"Uhh…" she begins, taken aback by the full frontal assault of stares. "My turn then?"
Another puking sound from the bushes courtesy of Chops is the only answer. With that noise it's like the floodgates have opened.
"Ooooh," Elka and Frankie chorus together scandalously and Kitty began to laugh out loud, so many memories from last summer finally beginning to take shape and make sense.
"What's going on now?" Raz asked, turning to Lili who now had her head in her hands.
"Ah for pity sake," JT grouched aloud, realizing he'd just extended the games life by at least an hour as he headed to stuff the bottles into the garbage bags and check on Chops.
Through the whole thing Phoebe found her head drawn upwards. For some reason, the reality of what she'd just said didn't seem like it warranted the magnitude of the response. Her first instinct was then to look up at Quentin, to confirm the thought she had in her mind that this whole thing wasn't as big of an issue as everyone around her was making it out to be.
"Wait really?" Raz asked out loud, as Lili ran over the facts again. "I thought you guys said there's never been anything on between you two?"
"And that you were totally fine with me dating him last year," Kitty calls smarmily from across the fire.
"Yeah," Quentin says taking her by both shoulders and lifting her off his shoulder as he looks straight into her eyes, his gaze a little confused and more than a little flustered. "We did say all of that, didn't we?"
Even in her tried state Phoebe only has to look around at the bemused and horrified faces around the campsite to know that she's messed up. Her gaze did another round at the reactions surrounding her then back up to Quentin's still red expression. She gave an audible sigh, apparently it really was going to be a long night.
"Look, I'm sorry, it just came out alright?" Phoebe said aloud. It was indeed 2 in the morning by the time the Truth or Dare troop finally returned to their cabins. The teasing and catcalls had eventually subsided but there was new momentum to the game and when Phoebe had dared Raz to do some dare devil circus stunt to take the heat off of her, well it had only kept the whole thing going. Only when Nils dared Elka, who he'd managed to break up and reunite with in the space of an hour and a half to start making out with him did everyone realize that the game was well and truly dead.
They broke off into pairs, as was tradition and began the walk back to the cabins, side by side. There was a half moon out that night, periodically dipping behind waves of cloud cover, but it didn't matter. The elder campers knew this route well enough by now. They could walk it in the dark and more importantly carry on conversation as they did so.
To that point though, it had mostly been remarks from Phoebe as Quentin walked beside her, hands in pockets, uncharacteristically silent. As each and every comment of hers was met with a one word response, or even worse some noise of affirmation she'd finally cracked and just apologized, hoping to just reset everything back to the way it had been.
No such luck. Quentin didn't even seem to respond to her admission of guilt…if you could call that an admission of guilt. Whatever the heck she'd just offered up Quentin's response seemed to be nothing more than a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. Great, now it's officially awkward.
The whole nights been cursed, Phoebe decides, (not that curses are much more than complex mental blocks preventing certain neural synapses from firing for a psychonaut) cursed by her blabbermouth and weak mind. The hormones did this, at least that's what her high school friends are always saying. At this point it's a better excuse than any, a better excuse for her own emotional cocktail of suppressed desire and affection.
"Do you still like me?" the question catches her off guard, sending a chill through her otherwise flustered system, it's the same kind of emotion she feels when she causes a sudden unplanned pyrotechnics display.
"Huh?" Marvelous recovery.
"Romantically I mean? Or is this just like the thing you had for Mikhail?"
It's Phoebe's turn to make it an awkward silence, she doesn't answer right away. Her mind is still that infernal cauldron of hormones and emotions, dashed with late night stress and a splash of sleep deprivation. It's all set to boil in her brain with the fire turned up to max. Her mind is abuzz, their camping trips, late nights spent with just the two of them in the cabins rec room listening to old records, composing music down by the creek, the endless band practices, the pen pal letters during the school year…
Seconds pass, then minutes. Phoebe falls into silence, lost in her thoughts and memories that she can't organize and articulate. There's something within her, some strong feelings, but she can't or perhaps just won't vocalize them right now.
Quentin frowns and Phoebe can't help but try to avert her eyes, as if she can't feel his disappointment if she doesn't see it. Why is this so hard to spit out? Why?
Suddenly, she starts to giggle. That laugh Quentin knows all too well, the genuine one she gives when she's not wearing her counselors face or the face of stern too cool Phoebe. This is their laugh, the one she makes when they share their inside jokes, when it's just the two of them together and he goes in too fast on the turntables while she does the opposite.
"Why is this so hard?" Phoebe asks out loud, wiping the moisture that's almost formed into teardrops on the corners of her eyes. She founds as frustrated as she does amused. "Why is this the one thing I can't spit out. We had a twenty minute conversation about your heat rash earlier this afternoon."
It triggers something in his brain as well. Memories of all the time they spent together. The birthday gifts they never failed to exchange, tag teaming on the obstacle course, the day they met when she tried to reheat her lunch and ended up causing the box to explode.
With that Quentin starts to laugh as well. They've got to be a bizarre sight, two kids under a half moon in the middle of the forest, laughing their heads off at nothing in particular. They know what they're laughing at though, they know each other well enough.
It's hard to tell how long this goes on. Phoebe sees his face one moment before the moon disappears behind another stretch of cloud leaving them in the dark. Still, she knows his face even more that she knows this path they're trodding underfoot. She's seen his face every day for summer after summer. She can see every laughing contortion on his face in her minds eye.
"I don't know." She says suddenly, deciding to take this moment to answer his question. "I can't imagine camp without you, I don't know why I'd continue to come here if it wasn't for you. If that makes it love, then yeah…sure, whatever."
The romanticism of a such a confession must surely be overwhelming…
She knows Quentin is smiling now, she can just feel it. Even though the moonlight has been temporarily snuffed out by the clouds over head she can feel his lips curve upwards. Then suddenly she feels a warm clasping around her hands. She doesn't need to look down, she can feel his emotions wash over her, it's one of the benefits of being a psychic. She's still flustered, an emotional mess right now, but happiness is bubbling inside of her, a giddiness she hasn't felt before.
"Come on," Quentin whispers. The moon emerges from behind the cloud cover, confirming everything she suspected was on his visage. The same dopey, scarf wearing smile she's known all these years. "Let's go turn in."
And with that they finally turn on their heels and head back to camp, this time walking hand in hand.
The last two weeks of camp just buzz on by without much fanfare. There's no magical sparks (outside of anyone's head that is), no great romantic declarations of love, no substantial change in their relationship. A knowing glance here, an extra goofy smile there, but for the most part what really would it change in their relationship? Where are either of them really going?
Sure college looms large in the background, but they're still just sophomores, how fast can time really fly anyways? It's not until the last day of camp that the reality of another year away starts to set in.
"Well…this is it! So longer losers! You're not gonna have Bobby Zilch to laugh at behind your backs anymore!"
It is of course tradition for the graduating campers to head out first, letting the youngers ones see them off one last time. It's only Bobby Zilch but Elka's already in tears, her head probably filled with images of how that's going to be her on the bus steps next year…probably breaking up with Nils as she does so…again.
"Hey Bobby," Raz says as Zilch turns one last time to stare down him nemesis. Raz steps forward from the mass of assembled kids and lowers his voice. It's too quite to be heard over the hum of the bus, but by the time he's done Bobby has him in a bear hug and looks to be on the verge of tears. Evidently, this camp meant something even to Bobby Zilch.
The empathetic side of Phoebe can't help it, sentiment's welling up inside of her as she watches Bobby turn and dash inside the bus so no one else can see or catch this sudden plague of emotions that he's come down with.
Beside her she hears Lili sniffle. It's only a singular sound and she only catches it very briefly. Soon enough Lili's face is back to her usual stoic, catty self. Phoebe just now realizes how depressing this all must be for Lili. Since her father runs the place she's always the first one in and the last one out, she watches all her friends climb onto the bus and head off back to the next phase of their lives. In a few years time she'll be doing it for the very last time, saying goodbye to one friend after another perhaps for the last time.
It's a sobering thought to think that someday she'll have to do it to.
A sudden hand on her shoulder pulls her back to the present, back to Whispering Rock August, 2009. She knows it's Quentin before she even sees him. Quentin always talks about how he pulls in after Bobby, so when bugging out it's his bus up next.
"Hey," he greets her as he pulls her aside.
"Hey," she smiles back. It's always the worst part of the year, but each summer they put on brave faces and do it, all with promises to write and keep in touch. This year though, well this year feels different.
"I was thinking about what you said," Quentin begins. "About not being able to imagine camp without the other?"
"Quentin that was two weeks ago," Phoebe says, there's the tiniest of smiles on her face though. She knew Quentin liked to take his time with things but this was just kind of ridiculous.
"Hey, we don't do this kind of stuff everyday," he shrugs amiably. "Thought I might as well give it some extra time to marinate."
"Well? Any results?" the usual edge to her tone is gone, it's like they're both walking on tacks here and neither one wants to take the plunge. It's as if they're both just starting to wade into icy water, drifting into totally new territory. They're both afraid of making the mistakes they seem those around them making every day. They don't want just a seasonal romance that's going to collapse when they have to go their separate ways. They're not in this just for those Summer Nights. It's certainly possible, but they're both afraid they'll just end up shouting the others name like Elka shouts Nils.
They shiver in unison as if the thought crossed both their minds at the same time. It's another moment of soft laughter between the two when suddenly Quentin removes his scarf and drapes it over Phoebe's shoulders.
The laughter ceases as Phoebe looks down at it, feeling the fibers run across her fingers, looking more than a little dumfounded. Her first thought is that, there's no way he can wear this all summer, it's unbearably warm, even here in the shade. Her second thought…
"I feel the same way," he announces, beaming towards her. "But, I don't know if this is the right time to start. We've both got junior year ahead of us and things can change on a dime."
"Hey, I'm not Kitty," Phoebe shoots at him quickly.
"Obviously, you never made a fuss about my table manners."
"Much to my detriment as much as yours," she says, finally smiling as she crosses her arms. Her fingers swirl the fringe of the scarf with her fingers as she finds herself unable to avoid a heady whiff of the fabric. It even smells like him…which duh, makes sense. She looks down at it once more, hands running over it. "So this is what? Your insurance policy?"
"There's just not enough time left in the summer Phoebe," Quentin pleads with her. "Keep that with you this year. If it all works out we meet back here next year and hash this out, or you just return the scarf and we'll leave it at that."
The bus honks in the distance, ready for the next load of campers grabbing their attention for a split second. That's his que. As they turn back one last time, Phoebe, quick as a whip Phoebe has her headphones off and around Quentin's neck instead, making it his turn to look surprised.
"Right back at you Mr. DJ." She smiles.