The Summer I Wasn't Me (15 page)

Mr. Martin announces the next morning that we’re going to get the chance to leave the camp that night.

“It’s just for a couple of hours,” he says, but the qualification doesn’t matter. Civilization! We’re finally going to get to dip our toes back in the real world, where things like cell phones and the Internet exist, and where the adults wear clothes besides pink and blue T-shirts!

“Where are we going?” Jasmine asks.

“You are going…on dates!” Mr. Martin declares.

My mouth falls open.

“Dates?” someone asks. I’m too stunned to pay attention to who it is. “With who?”

“With a member of your group, of course!”

I immediately glance at Carolyn. The second our eyes meet, her face turns beet red and she turns away.

Matthew smirks and shakes his head. “Oh yeah, right,” he whispers to me.

“Most of you probably don’t have much experience dating a member of the opposite sex,” Mr. Martin continues, “so we’re giving you a chance to practice. Brianna will pair you up.”

An excited buzz spreads across the carpet cabin as Brianna makes her way from group to group, splitting us up into couples.

But the four of us just stare at each other. I look from Matthew to Daniel and back to Matthew again. Which one of them will I be “dating” tonight? I can’t imagine going out with either of them. It’s just too weird.

Finally Brianna gets to us and she wastes no time splitting us up. “Matthew and Carolyn. Alexis and Daniel.” Then she moves on.

I look at Daniel. He’s not just my first boy date; he’s my first date, period. Somehow, when I used to imagine what my first date would be like, the image of this scrawny boy never came into the picture. But I guess I should know by now that things never work out the way you plan. He smiles shyly at me.

Matthew and Carolyn are dancing around on the carpet arm-in-arm, doing some kind of jitterbug/waltz thing. He dips her and she giggles hysterically. A searing blade of jealousy rips through me. “We are going to have a delightful evening together, my dear,” Matthew says in a suave, old-timey movie star accent.

“Okay, everyone, settle down,” Mr. Martin calls out once all the couples are arranged. “Here’s what’s going to happen. There are seven counselors and eight couples, so with the exception of one group of four, each couple will be paired with one chaperone. Your destinations have been prearranged, and you will each be going somewhere different. You are expected to be on your best behavior the entire evening, and
all
camp rules will still apply.”

He runs down the list of rules again and then pairs us each up with a counselor and a destination.

Daniel and I are going with Barbara to dinner at a local Italian restaurant and the 7:00 showing of some PG movie about a high school prom.

At 5:00, we all meet in the main cabin lobby, freshly showered and made up, dressed in our finest date clothes. I’m wearing a floor-length gauzy white skirt and a simple black tank top, with a scarf tied around my hair like a headband. Daniel is wearing khakis and a button-down shirt. His hair is neatly combed, and it looks like he put some sort of gel in it. The poor kid actually looks nervous.

I take his arm. “Don’t worry,” I whisper as we make our way to the bus. “We’ll have fun.”

The bus drops off Jasmine and Chris, who are being chaperoned by Kaylee, and then Matthew and Carolyn, who are stuck with Brianna for the evening. Then Daniel, Barbara, and I arrive at Vincenzo’s, which, if the sign in the window is to be believed, has the best meatballs this side of the Atlantic Ocean.

Barbara goes to speak with the hostess, and a few minutes later, Daniel and I are shown to a booth. Barbara gets her own table a few yards away. It’s 5:30 on a Tuesday, so the only other people in the restaurant are old people here for the early-bird special and families with screaming kids, but it’s still amazing to be out in the real world again.

We spend a few minutes looking at the menu and another minute giving our orders to the waitress. She looks at us curiously, and I wonder what Barbara told her about us.

But then she leaves and it’s just the two of us. Me and Daniel. Sitting across from each other. On a date. And it’s
really
weird.

Daniel keeps fidgeting with his place setting, straightening out his silverware and aligning his napkin and placemat with the edges of the table.

I pick at a piece of bread.

What are we supposed to talk about?

“So…what did you order again?” I say, because the silence is killing me.

“Chicken parm,” he says. “What did you get?”

“Spinach ravioli.” After another pause, I add, “I guess one of us should have gotten the meatballs.”

Daniel makes a face. “There’s no way this place has the best meatballs in America.”

I laugh. “I know, right? Who are they kidding? They have
crayons
on the table.”

Daniel smiles. “And they spelled
lasagna
wrong.”

“They did? I didn’t even notice that! I was too distracted by the dried glob of ketchup on my menu.”

Daniel laughs and reaches for a piece of bread. He smiles at me as he chews.

I glance at Barbara—she’s at her table, sipping a glass of red wine, reading a book. “What do you think her deal is?” I ask, nodding my head in her direction.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s got to be at least seventy, right?”

“I guess.”

“So what do you think she’s doing here? Shouldn’t she be off spoiling her grandkids or living it up in some retirement community or something?”

Daniel gives me a stern look. “She’s here to help us, Lexi.”

“Oh. Right.” I nod. “I know, I just meant…never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

Daniel studies me. “You don’t agree with all that stuff that Matthew said, do you?” he asks quietly. “About New Horizons being a waste of time?”

I meet his eyes. “No,” I say after a minute. “Of course not.”

He looks relieved and goes back to sipping his soda.

Time for a change of subject. “So what do you like to do back home, Daniel?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Oh come on, there’s got to be something. Some hobby or something?”

“Well…I like to read.”

“Me too. Ever read
Harry
Potte
r
?”

He looks up at me, confused. “Don’t you remember—”

I burst out laughing at his bewildered expression. “That was a joke. Sorry. I guess it wasn’t very funny.”

“Oh.” His face slowly breaks into a grin. “No, it was funny. I’ve never been very good at picking up on jokes and stuff.”

“That’s okay. So, you like to read…?”

“Yeah. Mostly fantasy books.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Have you ever read the
Flame
Hunter
series?”

“No. What’s it about?”

“You have to read it, Lexi. It’s so good. It’s about this world where all the light has been extinguished. The sun has burned out, and there’s no such thing as electricity, and the use of fire is regulated by the emperor.” He leans forward eagerly. “And there’s this band of people called the Flame Hunters who track down the last Sparks left in the world and distribute them to the poor people who can’t afford to pay the emperor’s prices. But what they’re doing is the most illegal crime possible, so they’re always on the run from the emperor’s henchmen and in a constant state of danger.”

“Wow,” I say. “Sounds complicated.”

“Nah, not really. It’s all explained really well in book one.”

“How many books are there?” I ask.

“Nine so far, but there’s another one coming out in a few months. I pre-ordered it.” There’s a glimmer of real joy in Daniel’s eyes.

I smile.

Daniel goes on and on about the illicit love affair between Princess Thenbie and the Flame Hunter leader Dominic Archer, and I just sit back and listen, happy he’s happy.

“So what about you? What do you like to do?” he asks just as the food arrives. It’s steaming hot and smells incredible. Maybe we underestimated this place. Or maybe we’re just really sick of Mrs. Wykowski’s dining cabin food.

I take a bite of ravioli. “Oh my God, that’s good,” I say through a mouth full of cheese and spinach and sauce. “How’s yours?”

“Delicious,” Daniel says. “Want to share?”

“Ooh yeah, good idea!” We split our food in half and swap portions. We eat in silence for a while, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. It’s not until my plate is nearly empty that I remember our conversation. “Oh, so to answer your question, I really like drawing—designing clothes and stuff.”

Daniel nods. “I know—I’ve seen you at the arts and crafts table. You’re really good.”

“Thanks.”

He smiles. I smile back. But then he doesn’t take his eyes away. He just keeps smiling and staring at me way past the socially acceptable amount of time, and it’s starting to get awkward and I have to look away. I check my watch, just for somewhere to look, and I’m surprised to find that it’s already 6:30.

“We have to get to the movie,” I say and push my plate away.

Barbara pays our bills and makes a quick phone call. A few minutes later, a taxi pulls up in front of the restaurant and drives us to the movie theater.

The movie is really dumb and the theater is really cold. Daniel notices me shivering and puts his arm around me.

Then about halfway through the movie, just as the kids start doing some big dance that somehow everyone in the school knows the moves to, he reaches over and takes my hand.

This is not just a friendly hand-holding. His hand is shaking—with nervousness?—and he grasps my fingers tightly, giving them a little squeeze every now and then. I don’t understand it, and I sure as hell don’t like it.

I look at him and I can just make out his smile in the flickering light of the movie screen.

I don’t know what to do. I want to pull my hand away, to demand to know what he’s thinking and storm out of the theater. But if I freak out, Barbara will know I’m not giving this whole “date” thing my all, and it will get back to Mr. Martin, and then he won’t be able to tell my mother that I was a perfect student. Plus, I don’t want to embarrass Daniel or hurt his feelings. He clearly
is
giving the date thing his all, and I don’t want to ruin it for him.

I’m just
really
uncomfortable right now.

But wait—maybe holding hands is against the rules? Maybe it’s considered inappropriate conduct or something. Maybe if Barbara saw, she would make us sit apart from each other. I turn my head to look at Barbara in the row behind us, trying to nonchalantly get her attention, but she’s sound asleep, her head tilted back and her mouth wide open.

So I just stay like that, in Daniel’s arms, my hand getting sweaty in his, counting the seconds until the end of the movie.

I finally get my hand back when the lights come up. Daniel is still grinning at me, but the best I can do is give him an unsure eyebrow raise. We stand on the sidewalk outside the movie theater, a bubble of weirdness surrounding us, waiting for the bus to come. I never thought I’d actually be looking forward to seeing Mr. Martin and getting back to New Horizons, but at this point, I’ll take it. I just want this night to be over.

I rock back and forth on my heels impatiently, my arms crossed over my chest.

“Are you cold, Lexi?” Daniel asks.

“
No
,” I say a little too forcefully. “I mean…no. I’m fine.” I muster up a little smile.

“I’m going to go run into the convenience store to see if they have the candies I like,” Barbara says to us suddenly. “Are you two okay to wait out here on your own?”

No
, I try to say with my eyes.
No, please. Stay!

But Daniel says, “Of course, we’ll be fine. Take your time,” and Barbara disappears through the store’s automatic doors.

The second she’s out of sight, Daniel turns to me. “Lexi, I had such a wonderful time tonight,” he says shyly. He grabs both my hands, and I watch in horror as, in slow motion, he closes his eyes and leans toward me, lips puckered.

No
no
no
no
n
o
! It’s not exactly the word
no
that’s going through my head—it’s more like every fiber of my being, even the New Horizons–altered parts like the grown-out roots of my hair and my baby-pink manicure, is screaming out the
essence
of no. This is so wrong. I don’t want this. I will
never
want this.

Daniel’s about an inch away from my face when I finally come to my senses. I yank my hands away and leap backward, putting as much distance between us as I can.

Daniel’s eyes are huge, his body frozen in that same going-in-for-a-kiss position. “What’s wrong?”

“You were going to kiss me!”

“I know…I…”

Let
him
down
easy
, I remind myself. “This isn’t a real date, Daniel. I’m sorry, but it’s just an exercise.”

“But…” His hands start shaking and he nervously folds them under his arms. “But I thought…I thought you liked me.”

His face is flooded with hurt, and I immediately feel like a complete jerk. I take a small step closer. “I do like you. As a friend. But that’s all.”

He shakes his head. “No. You put your head on my shoulder that night outside the rec cabin! And you kissed me during your Father Wound exercise!”

But
after
we
kissed
at
Vinny’s party,
I’d said to Zoë.
I
thought…maybe…you might feel the same way? About me?

God, how did things get so turned around?

“Oh, Daniel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea. I kissed you—on the cheek—because you were playing the role of my father. It was all part of the exercise. And I put my head on your shoulder because I was drunk and sad and you’re my friend. That’s all it was.”

Tears are filling his eyes, and his lower lip is beginning to quiver. He takes his glasses off and wipes the lenses on his shirt—I get the feeling he’s just doing it so he doesn’t have to look at me.