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It’s one thing when Lottie Matthews transfers to Wiskayok High halfway through their junior year and immediately solidifies herself as a loveable weirdo, slightly off-putting but nice to Van after some jocks tear up their promposal sign for Taissa. It’s one thing when she joins the soccer team even though it’s the middle of the year, even though tryouts are already over. It’s one thing when she offers to partner up with Nat for their group English project, even though Nat usually sits around until everyone is paired up and then works by herself. It’s one thing when she takes to sitting next to Natalie at lunch.
All of that is at school. Nat can handle it. She can handle her brunette shadow at school and at parties as long as Lottie lets her bum cigs, which she always does. School and school-adjacent areas are permissible.
But this? This is crossing the line.
“That’s great, Lottie,” Shauna says, sipping at her cafeteria container of milk. “Congratulations.” Nat’s jaw is just about on the floor. Because no. It is not great, not at all.
“Thanks,” Lottie says, smiling, scrunching her nose the way she does when someone praises her. “I’m really excited.”
Van looks at Nat, then back at Lottie. “Camp Green Pine? Isn’t that the camp Nat works at?”
Lottie’s smile widens, which Nat hadn’t really thought was possible. “Yeah! She mentioned it, and I’ve been looking for a summer job, and it sounded fun. Plus, Nat’s not bad company.”
So, yeah. Apparently Lottie’s going to be her coworker for the summer. Working as a counsellor at Camp Green Pine had been a refuge the year Nat turned sixteen, the sleepaway camp giving her a reason to be away from home for weeks at a time. She was fed, housed, and (mostly) clothed by the camp as long as she worked there; and, on top of that, she still made a salary. None of the other employees were from Wiskayok, they don’t know about her dad, they don’t call her Nasty Natalie… It’s freeing, really. Nat never really pictured herself working with kids, but they’re tolerable. They’re actually kind of sweet, sometimes.
Maybe Nat might have been looking forward to summer, to being back at Camp Green Pine. Just a little. But now? Now Nat’s dreading it. Not that Lottie seems like one to spread rumors, or call her names, but… Still. She goes to Wiskayok High. Nat already has to see her stupid pretty face every day at school. She was looking forward to a summer of escape, yelling at kids to walk by the pool and chasing away bees to forget about the way her eyes shine in the sunlight, the way her hair falls around her face. The way there’s always a strand hanging right in front of her ear, that Nat always has to resist the urge to tuck behind her–
Anyway.
Lottie shows up to the first day of counselors training in what have to be the shortest shorts Natalie’s ever seen, and she knows she’s in for the longest summer of her life.
She’s correct.
For starters, Lottie’s amazing with kids. Irritatingly incredible with them. They flock to her, even the kids Nat’s known for two summers now are ditching her at lunch to sit with Lottie. Even Lisa, Nat’s secret favorite, turns up one lunch sitting by Lottie instead of her usual post besides Nat. Only Lottie, annoyingly intuitive as she is, seems to realize that part of Nat actually is a little sad that the kids don’t want to sit with her anymore and invites Nat to sit with them. And maybe it’s pathetic, but Nat does.
Nat’s good at catching frogs with the kids, but Lottie’s good at friendship bracelets and tie-dye patterns.
The kids seem like they can tell Nat doesn’t like Lottie–only they sort of take it a different way. Like, before, they’d be playing a card game, and they would insist that Nat and Lottie play on different teams. Lately they’ve been insisting on pairing Nat and Lottie together, giggling and exchanging mischievous looks and refusing to explain themselves. It’s irritating. Being around Lottie is bad enough, but it’s embarrassing that even the kids seem to have figured out something that Nat just can’t quite grasp.
She pushes the feeling down, focusing her energy on the main event. Capture the flag is a Camp Green Pine classic, a staple of every summer. They play twice; once, a sort of practice round at the end of one camp session halfway through the summer, and again at the very end. The weeks are flying by, and before Nat knows it, it’s the last week of the session and the kids are voting on which camp counselors are going to be the team captains.
The votes start coming in, and Nat had a worry, a thought in the back of her mind, but she’d ignored it. The more votes she counts, the more realistic her minor, unrealistic concern becomes. The two capture the flag team captains? Her and Lottie. At least Lisa winds up on Nat’s team.
They have three days to “train”. And dammit, Nat’s kind of taking this seriously. She makes it fun, comes up with obstacle courses, relay races, but she has the kids running, tagging, picking up flags and running. They play hide and seek, and Nat appoints herself the seeker each time, going hard on them until they start coming up with good hiding spots. Nat can’t even find Lisa once looking as hard as she can, she has to call the game and have Lisa come out from her spot. And it’s stupid, the kids are all between the ages of eight and twelve, but Nat’s having fun, too. They’re kids, but they’re funny, sometimes, and they trust her enough to wake her up in the middle of the night when they have nightmares. Which, yeah, annoying, but also not at all. Nat would never dare to wake up her parents in the night when she had a nightmare, so the fact that these random kids trust her to do it? Nat has a hard time being annoyed, especially when Lisa falls asleep holding Nat’s hand.
The training’s brought them closer together in a way Nat didn’t expect it to. She kind of thinks they’re ready, too. They’ve gotten faster, smarter. They play a few practice rounds, switching up the teams to get them used to playing with each other, doing everything they can to prepare.
The worst part? Lottie. They haven’t been sitting together, sitting with their respective teams at lunch, but she keeps smiling at Nat like she would before, like they aren’t enemies now. Not that they are, really. But Nat had sort of expected more friendly competition, at least. Lottie seems to have missed the memo that she’s meant to be beating Nat at capture the flag. She doesn’t seem to be attempting to instill fear, annoying her, egging her into attack, anything. If anything, Nat’s pretty sure she’s faking the sweet act to make Nat think she doesn’t care, when really she’s prepping her kids for blood. But Lottie doing all that? Nat kind of can’t see it. And Lottie’s kind of a shit liar, but her smiles and gentle compliments about the way Nat’s styled her hair, or tied her counselor shirt up each day are always soft and genuine.
So, either she’s been practicing her lying, or she means it.
Nat can’t decide which she would prefer.
The night before the game Nat can’t sleep. Judging by the whispers and rustling sheets all night, she’s not alone. Lottie seems to have slight bags under her eyes, too when she smiles at Nat over her unusually hearty breakfast–prep for the game, it must be. Nat’s reminded as they huddle up before the game, and, out of the corner of her eye, she can see Lottie getting down on the kids level, that Lottie cares about this and the kids, too. If anything, that only makes it harder to sneer at her when they shake hands before the game, Lottie’s smile light, teasing.
“Good luck, Nat.”
Nat squints at her, but it seems genuine. She shakes Lottie’s hand, skin on fire, pursing her lips. “Good luck, Lot.”
Lottie’s lips twitch in a smile, nodding at Nat and going back to her team, and before she knows it the whistle is blowing, starting the game.
It goes on for hours. Near-wins for each team, huge jailbreaks, an ulcer’s worth of anxiety all in a single afternoon. Nat and Lottie aren’t allowed to do much but yell instructions once the game’s started, acting as coaches and kind of referees. They’re not the most impartial, but they keep each other in check. Nat tries to be fair. And whenever she’s a little generous towards her team, Lottie counters until they agree.
It’s strenuous. Nat wants lunch, and she knows the kids do, too, but the games don’t usually go on this long and they don’t really have a lunch break protocol, so no one’s calling it and it’s just dragging on. Nat spies Lisa monitoring the border between the team’s boundaries and beckons her over.
“How’s it going back there?”
Lisa shrugs. “Hungry.”
Nat nods, crouching, careful to lead Lisa out of Lottie’s earshot.. “Right, yeah. How about we try to get this thing finished? So we can all eat?”
Lisa grins, nodding.
“Okay. Remember your hiding spot? The really good one, the one even I couldn’t find?” Nat nods in the direction of the spot, which, notably, as the lines between the teams were drawn out, was placed on the other team’s land.
Lisa nods eagerly, wide-eyed, at rapt attention.
“Okay, good. Get a friend or two to go with you to get the flag, okay? Fast ones. They’ll be decoy. You take the flag, but pretend to give it to one of them. Then you take it and hide. They’ll run off, and everyone will chase them. Once they’re gone, you run, okay? As fast as you can.”
Lisa nods so fast her head could fall off, dashing off with renewed purpose. Nat holds her breath, hoping the game ends soon, and, most of all, hoping to win.
Nat sees them go a few minutes later. Lisa and one more kid from one spot, three more from another. Enough to be a solid ambush, but spread out enough so it doesn’t seem so obvious. Lottie doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t alert any of her kids to the disturbance. They realize soon enough, anyway. Or, at least, judging by the shouting in the woods after a few minutes that comes from what Nat’s pretty sure is the location of the other team’s flag, Nat thinks they’ve realized. One of the kids walks out glumly, standing in the hula hoop that acts as ‘jail’, but there’s more shouting and she can see flashes of clothes moving through the trees.
She can see, although she tries not to stare and draw attention to it, as Lisa follows the plan perfectly, slipping into her spot in the foliage, perfectly out of sight. The kids are all running in opposite directions, far away from Lisa. And she sits, waiting, perfectly forgotten, until everyone else is far away. Too far away. Nat nods to herself when Lisa peeks out. It’s been a minute, long enough that everyone else is gone, but not for so long that they’ll have turned around and given up. Now all that’s left to do is run. And run Lisa does. She runs like Nat’s never seen her run before, picking up her legs at record speed, arms pumping at her sides. Lottie realizes what’s happening, yells for her team to come tag her, but it’s too late. They’re too late. Lisa races over the barrier, flag in hand, running into Nat’s arms.
Lisa hits her hard, and it’s hot and she’s sweaty, but Nat doesn’t care. She cheers, the other kids all crowding around, sweet victory cooling them down.
Lunch has never tasted so good. It feels good, especially as Lisa tells everyone who’ll listen all about the plan and how it was all Nat’s idea. Lisa still gets credit, as the one to pull it off, but her team is happy, they’re proud of her. She led them to victory, and yeah, it feels good.
Lottie doesn’t seem unbearably miserable, trying to cheer up her kids with the post-game popsicles awarded to everyone. One of Nat’s kids calls the other team’s cool treat “consolation popsicles” and then they’re rejecting them, but then Lottie’s kids are complaining, calling Nat’s kids names, and Nat’s kids aren’t exactly holding back. It’s devolving fast. Nat looks at Lottie, panicked, unsure of what to do in the deteriorating situation.
“Okay! Everyone, quiet!”
The pavilion goes quiet, all eyes, even Nat’s, on Lotties. She clears her throat.
“Okay. That is not how we treat our friends.” There’s some general, begrudging mumbling of agreement. “I know they might not feel like our friends right now, but that’s just because we got a little too swept up in the game.” Lottie sucks in her lower lip in thought, then gasps, brightening. “I have an idea. We’re all going to pair up, with someone from the opposite team, and say one true thing we admire about them. For example.” Lottie scans the room, eyes roaming, searching for… “Natalie.”
Nat swallows, feeling the eyes in the room shifting towards her. How very Jackie Taylor of her. She steps forward, standing across from Lottie.
“Nat.” Lottie squints at her, as if weighing her options. “You really put your all into this game. You wanted your team to win to make the group happy, not for your own personal gain. You’re selfless. I appreciate that about you.”
Nat swallows hard. It’s weird, knowing Lottie knows that about her, pays attention like that. She’d never quite thought of it that way. Yeah, she cares, but she’d never really considered why. Lottie makes it sound so noble.
“Now you say something nice about me.”
“Right.” Stupid brain. Too busy worrying about Lottie and what Lottie thinks of her to be thinking about what she was going to say. “Um… Lottie.” Nat’s mind is flying, scrambling, grasping and flailing for anything nice and normal to say about Lottie. Everything coming to mind has too many curses or just isn’t something she wants anyone else to overhear–maybe she needs to examine her feelings for Lottie more closely, but the time for that is certainly not now–and fuck, she needs to just say something.
“Lot. You always seem to know what you want, and you’re never afraid to go after it. I… I second guess myself a lot, so that’s admirable to me.”
Lottie blinks. Then smiles. Soft, slow, real. A different kind of smile than Nat’s ever seen on her before.
“Thanks, Nat.”
Nat swallows hard, embarrassment in the form of hot red heat inching across her face. “Yeah, sure.” She steps back, looking around at the kids watching in silent focus. “Alright, you heard her. Partner up. Say something nice about each other, let’s go.
There’s some general grumbling, but they do. Lottie nudges Nat on the shoulder as they split up among themselves, the sound of small voices getting louder.
“That was nice,” she says, soft enough that the kids won’t hear over the sound of their own voices.”
Nat nods, looking at the ground. “It wasn’t my real answer.”
Lottie arches an eyebrow. “No? What was your real answer?”
Nat shrugs, thinking back on the past few days, how Lottie was kind to her when she easily could have been cruel, like Nat was inclined to be. “You don’t talk shit unless someone really deserves it.” Nat allows herself to look Lottie up and down, from her skort to her tie-dye shirt pulled tight with a hair tie wrapped around the loose ends. “And you can pull off tie-dye.”
Lottie pulls her lower lip between her teeth, smirking softly at Nat, like she just learned something Nat doesn’t even know herself.
“Thanks.” She turns away, watching the kids, interrupting sarcastic answers until she gets a genuine response from each one. It’s sweet. Nat turns away, she should probably be doing the same.
They successfully avoid an all-out-war post capture the flag, doing crafts for the rest of the day after all the exertion of the morning. It’s the last day of the first session, after all, and a campfire dinner and s’mores are in order. Lottie walks up to Nat during dinner without a word, holding a marshmallow toasted just the way Nat likes it, smiling at her and walking off without another word.
“She likes you.”
Nat’s head whips towards the voice. Lisa, sitting beside Nat, s’more in front of her courtesy of Nat, kicking her legs.
Nat scoffs. What does Lisa know about that? Does Lisa even know that girls can like girls?
“I know that girls can like girls.”
Well. That answers that.
“She doesn’t like me, Lisa.”
Lisa shrugs. “How do you know?”
“Because that’s not what people act like when they like someone.”
Lisa tilts her head. “I dunno. She said something really nice about you. And she brought you a good marshmallow. And she’s always looking at you when we play games.”
Nat frowns. “No, she’s not.” Is she?
Lisa shrugs, taking a big bite of her s’more, likely wanting another and not wanting to bite the hand that roasts the marshmallows just right. Even if she doesn’t quite agree, it’s sweet. Nat ruffles her hair and picks up her stick, resigning herself to making Lisa nother s’more.
Even though she’s wrong about Lottie. She has to be.
Nat’s not surprised to see Lisa at orientation for new campers the next morning. Every year she’s been a counselor at Camp Green Pine Lisa’s been in attendance for both sessions. From what Nat’s gathered talking to her, she goes to a boarding school during the year. Truth be told, Nat feels bad for the kid. That’s part of the reason why Lisa’s her favorite. She tries to do a little extra for her, make her feel like she has someone around. Even if she doesn’t, not really. Because what can Nat do for her? Win capture the flag? It’s not much, but it’s all she can do.
Lottie, however, walks into breakfast on the later side, sees Lisa, and her face crumbles.
Nat takes her by the elbow when she sees the puppy-eyes Lottie’s shooting in Lisa’s direction, dragging her outside and depositing her on the nearest bench.
“You can’t look at her like that.”
“But she–she already–she–?”
Nat grimaces. “Yeah. Goes to a boarding school, too.”
Lottie shrinks in on herself, crossing her arms over her chest. Nat sighs. There’s not much she can do. It sucks, but what can they do about it? Lottie sits still for a long time, though, head down, arms and hair covering her face, and Nat gets tired of standing, so she sits. And if Lottie scoots closer, inching and inching until their thighs are touching, that’s really no one’s business but their own.
“Sorry,” Lottie says after a long time.
“It’s okay. It’s upsetting. You’re allowed to be upset.”
Lottie’s head nods, eyes slowly appearing in her rolling sea of waves, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just… I know what it’s like, you know?”
Nat doesn’t. Not the same way. Not in the way that money is used to send her away. But she does, in other ways. In the way that she came here in the first place to get away from home. She nods. “Yeah. I just… I try to do what I can for her, y’know?”
“Like capture the flag?”
“Yeah. Like capture the flag.”
Lottie drops her head onto Nat’s shoulder.
Questioning herself at every step of the way, cautiously, Nat draps her hand around Lottie’s shoulder. She’s rewarded with a soft sigh, with a cheek sinking further onto her shoulder.
Lottie slips Lisa a popsicle at lunch that day, and Nat doesn’t say a word.
Whatever kind of dynamic Nat thought she had with Lottie during the last session is nowhere near as bad as whatever’s going on now. Maybe it’s just the fact that Nat is slowly becoming aware that, okay, maybe Lisa was right, and maybe Lottie is sort of definitely flirting with her, and maybe Nat is sort of definitely flirting back. It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine because Nat says it is, so it has to be.
Lottie takes an extra little raspberry pastry when they have them at breakfast, wraps them up in a napkin and puts them in her pocket, offering it to Nat whenever they see each other. It’s kind of sad, warm and squished, but it still tastes good. And Nat eats them every time, because they’re good, and they remind her of Lottie. Sweet, just like her.
Lisa catches them one time, painting nearby when the exchange occurs. Lottie floats back off to wherever she’s supposed to be, and Nat changes out Lisa’s muddied water, sitting back down to her own painting as Lisa looks at her, entirely too smug for a ten-year-old, kicking her feet at her chair, turning her small canvas around to reveal what Nat’s pretty sure is her attempted likeness of Nat and Lottie, holding hands and smiling.
“Toldja so.”
Nat glares at her a little, because the kid really shouldn’t be worrying about all this, but Lisa just smiles, turning her painting back around and painting the sky and grass.
The second session flies by, the final week and capture the flag round two quickly approaching. These kids, perhaps at the influence of Lisa, seem to have similar tastes to the first session and, shock of all shocks, Nat and Lottie are nominated again to coach capture the flag. Since it worked so well last time, Nat adopts a similar training approach. Practical games, running races, hide and seek… It works about the same as last time, raising spirits, making them faster, better, stronger. If this goes anything like last time, Nat likes her odds.
Of course, she should have factored in Lottie, the surprise factor she always brings. She’d assumed Lottie would take a similar strategy as last time, a rather stupid move, looking back. It didn’t work last time, why would she do it again? Plus, Lisa’s on Lottie’s team this time, a result of random decision, but still. Nat kind of misses having her around all day, her little shadow echoing her instructions to the other campers.
Still, she’s surprised by Lottie’s strategy. The whistle blows, starting the game, and Lottie’s kids attack. Hard and fast. It’s so much so soon, Nat didn’t think to prepare her kids for such a full-on ambush. Not a single kid stays behind. Her team tags some of them, sends them to jail, some of her kids do the smart thing and run for the other team’s flag, but it’s too late. Lisa, little flash that she is, makes the final dash, untagged, bringing the flag back to her team for the speedy victory.
Nat barely has it in her to be disappointed, not when Lisa’s smiling like that, the kids crowding around her, cheering. It’s such a rush that even the kids who lost get caught up, just a crowd of small, bouncing bodies.
An elbow nudges her ribs. Nat turns expectantly to Lottie, arching an eyebrow.
“Good game, you fucking loser.”
Nat scoffs, turning to look at Lottie incredulously. “You talking shit? You little bitch. We’re tied, 1-1.”
Lottie shrugs, grinning. “Guess we’ll just have to come back next year. Rematch.”
Slowly, Nat nods. She’d been angry, at the start of the summer, at the thought of working with Lottie. Now she wouldn’t mind doing it again next summer.
“You’re on.”
Lottie reaches out, shaking Nat’s hand. Smirk slowly creeping across Nat’s face, she shakes.
Camp Green Pine is lonely after the campers leave. It’s designed for the groups, the swarms of kids around. It still feels overwhelming when they’re all there, but Nat’s shocked at the end of every session, she kinda misses the little shits when they go. Especially Lisa. She’s sitting in her bed, packed up to leave tomorrow, the day after the campers, reflecting on the summer, when there’s a knock at the door. Nat frowns. She’s the only counselor in her cabin, that’s how it works, one counselor per cabin. No campers should be here, knocking, and who else would it be?
“Come in?”
Lottie enters, dropping her unzipped bag on the ground, smiling softly, bittersweet. “I gave Lisa my phone number.”
Nat blanches. “She has a phone?”
Lottie shrugs. “She’s ten and goes to boarding school. I took a swing. Hit the piňata.”
Nat nods, stoic. It sucks, but it’s good that Lisa can talk to Lottie if she needs to.
“If she calls you, do you mind asking if she’d mind if you gave me her number?”
“Yeah, of course.” Lottie walks closer, nodding her head at the space beside Nat. “Mind if I sit?”
Nat shakes her head, scooting over to make room.
Lottie sits close to Nat anyway, hand brushing against her leg as she settles. “So. We go back to Wiskayok tomorrow.”
Nat wrinkles her nose, and Lottie laughs softly.
“I know. I know, and I was thinking… maybe we could do something to soften the blow?”
Nat eyes Lottie, intrigued.
“Like, I dunno. Stop at some diner, an ice cream place, have a smoke. Just hang out, without a bunch of kids supervising.”
Nat chuckles. “We were supposed to be the ones supervising the kids.”
Lottie shivers. “Don’t remind me. This was my first job.”
Nat grins. “Mine was McDonalds.”
Lottie nods. “So… whattaya think?”
Nat levels her with a curious stare. “Depends.”
Lottie’s cheeks are pink, her eyebrows raised. “Depends?”
Nat nods. “Depends on if it’s a date or not.”
“Oh. That.” Lottie shrugs, throat bobbing as it swallows. “Well, I guess I was thinking it could be, but if you don’t want it to be that’s okay, too–”
Nat shuts her up with her lips, leaning forward and running a hand through her hair, which is just as soft as Nat imagined. She tucks that loose strand behind her ear, registering Lottie’s lips moving against her own, a hand on her back, a hand on her waist. They part after a moment, skin on fire everywhere Lottie’s touching her, panting. Lottie grins.
“Is that a yes?”
Nat leans in and kisses the satisfied smirk off of her. Yes.
Buzzing on the bed draws them apart, Lottie fishing for her phone, holding it to her ear.
“Hello? Oh, hi, Lisa.” Nat smiles, shaking her head and panting, sitting up. Impeccable timing. “That’s good,” Lottie says, eyeing Nat, grinning. “What’s that? Oh. I haven’t asked her yet. But she did ask me to ask you if I could give her your phone number? So she can call you to check in sometime, too? Yeah? Okay, great, thanks. I’ll tell her. Yes. Yeah, I’ll ask her.” Lottie looks down, bashful. “Okay. That sounds good. I’ll call you later. I will. I’ll tell you what she says, yeah. Bye.”
Lottie hangs up, pink on her cheeks, looking down at her hands.
“So… what are you asking me?”
Lottie bites her lip, looking at Nat hopefully. “She really, really wants me to ask you to be my girlfriend. ‘Cause she says that’s what you do when two people like each other. Oh. One sec.” She goes to her backpack, pulling out a thin, long rectangle, holding it towards Nat. “She gave me this. For both of us, I think.”
Nat takes it, a canvas, flipping it over and laughing. She recognizes this, it’s the same painting Lisa was making when she was teasing Nat about the pastry.
Lottie smiles, lost. “What?”
Nat shakes her head. “She showed me this while she was making it. I didn’t believe her, I… I was wrong.”
Lottie smirks. “Damn right you were wrong.”
Nat puts the painting aside, beckoning Lottie back in. Lottie kisses her, then pulls back.
“Wait. Dinner? And ice cream?”
Nat grins, wrapping an arm around Lottie. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds perfect.”
Lottie smiles, hard. “Good.”
She kisses Nat again, and this time, she doesn’t pull back.