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Week 1
Spencer doesn’t want to be here. He’s only been at Camp Starshine for a few days and still has the rest of the month to go. His mom made him come, and he’s not eighteen yet, so there was nothing he could really do about it. And he’s not one to defy or upset his mother, anyway.
Diana said he deserved one last good and normal summer before he graduates next year. She seemed to forget that he’s graduating from college next year, not from high school.
She comes to this camp every summer. She doesn’t play sports or ask her parents for any money during the school year, so they can afford to ship her off for the whole month of July. She’s intimately familiar with the grounds – knows every hidden path and secret spot like the back of her hand. Camp Starshine is her haven, her oasis.
She’s never seen him here before. It’s not odd for the camp to have a handful of newcomers each year, but what is odd is that she never sees him participating in any of the activities. She first saw him sitting at the base of her favorite tree with a book in his lap and a stack of more beside him. Does he know this isn’t a nerd camp?
Also, like she said, that’s her favorite tree. She sits there with her Walkman and makes friendship bracelets in the evenings, and now she can’t, because this weirdo stole her spot!
Why is he even here if he doesn’t want to be?
Just how many books did he bring with him? His duffel must weigh a million pounds.
She can’t judge him too harshly for that, though. She did bring the majority of her CD collection.
Oh, and did this kid bring any summer-appropriate attire with him? It’s been half a week, and she hasn’t seen him in anything other than slacks and a button-up.
When he first sees her across the lawn, he’s a little scared and intimidated. She’s beautiful and seems so carefree, for one. Her ears are riddled with piercings (a minimum of ten per ear), arms littered with threaded bracelets, a fanny pack clipped over her denim overalls, and a few beaded necklaces around her neck. She’s definitely excited to be here, and he’s definitely not. He has zero plans to speak to her.
Wait, why is she walking towards him?
“Hey! This is my tree, I’ll have you know.” She stops right in front of him and crosses her arms over her chest.
He’s looking up at her like a kicked puppy. It sends a pang of guilt to her heart. She was just messing with him.
“Oh- I-I didn’t know…” He scrambles to shove his books into his bag.
“Oh, no, I was just kidding,” she tentatively chuckles. Nodding her head towards his books, she asks, “Whatcha reading?”
His hand flies over the cover of his book, “It’s just for school.”
She looks incredulous, “School? But it’s summer!”
“Yeah, I, uh, I like to prepare.”
She laughs, “I could’ve guessed that about you.”
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The following day, she sees him stepping out of his cabin. She doesn’t know his name, so she just shouts, “I stayed in Radiance three summers ago!”
He flinches at the noise and looks around before his gaze falls on her. With a small smile, he just nods.
Approaching him slowly, she continues talking, “This year I’m in Stardust. My bunkmate is this girl named Dani, she’s really nice, and her best friend Ellie is in the other bunk.” She leans against the porch railing as she continues talking, gesturing with her hands as she does. “Sometimes I feel like a third wheel, though. They don’t, like, specifically exclude me, quite the opposite, really, they invite me to hang out with them all the time, but I don’t know… Who’s all in your cabin?”
He’s noticed that she talks a lot, but that’s not a bad thing. It makes up for his lack of conversational skills. “Um… My bunkmate is this guy named James. The other one has Simon and another guy I don’t know the name of – I’ve only seen him twice so far.”
She squeals, and it startles him, “James is Dani’s camp crush!”
“Camp crush?” He inquires.
“Ugh, I have so much to teach you! A camp crush is a temporary fling that both people know won’t last once camp ends. The first time I woke up in the middle of the night and Dani was gone, I was afraid the bears had gotten to her! But the next morning she told me that she had just snuck out to go makeout with James by the lake.”
“There are bears here?” He squeaks out. He’s pretty certain there aren’t any in this area, but she has him worried.
“Oh, no.” She waves off his concerns. “But were you listening?! I think that James is more than just a camp crush for Dani, the way she lights up when she talks about him is… kind of sickening, actually…”
“Okay…”
“So, we have to play matchmakers for them! We could give the best speeches at their future wedding.”
He tries to just laugh her off, but she’s being deadly serious. She gave him an assignment to talk to James about his feelings for Dani.
“I’m sorry you have Simon, too, though. I’ve heard he’s not very nice.”
“Oh… Yeah… It’s fine.”
“He’s a douche. You can say it.”
He looks over at her incredulously, “No!” and she just laughs.
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She approaches him again a couple of days later, with a towel draped around her neck and an oversized camp shirt covering her bathing suit, “Do you want to go swimming with me?”
He politely declines.
She huffs, “Wow, so you hate me?”
“What?! No! Not at all!” He’s flushed and frantic. “Lakes are full of germs and bacteria that can cause various illnesses, some of which can even be life-threatening.” She wonders how he’s capable of speaking so quickly without tripping over his words.
She smiles, “I was just messing with you, no worries,” before reaching forward to ruffle his hair. His eyes squint, and his shoulders rise, but he doesn’t pull away from her.
He watches her walk away until she rounds a corner and disappears.
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Week 2
She found him reading in a corner of the mess hall. The sound of her tray smacking the table makes him flinch, but his shoulders relax once he sees that it’s just her.
The monotone chatter of their campmates fills their ears before she breaks their silence by asking, “So what do you wanna be when you grow up?”
Nobody has asked him that in years. He’s amazed at the way she makes it seem like being a grown-up with adult responsibilities is so far away. “I’m not sure exactly, maybe a professor. What about you?”
She doesn’t answer his question. She just laughs, nods at his book, and says, “Professor Paperback.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She’s learned not to overwhelm him with too many questions at a time, so the next day, she asks him if he knows where he’s going to college next year.
“I’m actually already in college.”
She purses her lips outward and nods, “Oh, cool! Like Dual Credit?”
His lips purse, and he looks down at his tray, “No, I’m a full-time student at CalTech. I’m almost done with my first bachelor’s.”
Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead, “Your first?!”
He scratches the back of his neck, “Yes. I want to get at least one doctorate, and then I’ll go back for another Bachelor’s.”
“And what kind of doctor would you be? One for books? Doctor Paperback?”
Pushing up his glasses, he clarifies, “Well, I wouldn’t be a medical doctor exactly…”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She introduces him to Oreos dipped in peanut butter.
He doesn’t really like it, but he pretends like he does.
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She didn’t know why he was reading books about schizophrenia, and figured it was too personal to ask. He’s clearly very introverted, and she didn’t want to make things weird or uncomfortable. She did briefly fear that he was reading them for himself, but then she felt guilty for assuming.
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One night, they’re cross-legged on her bunk and playing poker, sour candy being the tokens. Ellie and Dani are out, so it’s just the two of them. They’re laughing and eating popcorn, and Spencer’s having a really good time. He does feel normal, for once. And he’s won three times already, so that helps.
He randomly decides that he’s going to tell her about his mom. He’s never talked about her with anyone, so he doesn’t know how to naturally bring it up in conversation. He waits for a lull and says, “My mom wanted me to come here.”
“Woman with great taste, I must say. I love it here.”
He softly smiles, “Yes, she is.” The good memories of her reading to him and cooking his favorite meals come to the surface, before the scarier ones follow behind them. “She, um, is sick. I’ve been really good about taking care of her, and she wanted me to have a normal summer where I didn’t have to worry about her for a little while.”
She lightly smiles at him and adjusts her cards. “Let me guess, you’re still worrying about her?”
Spencer nods, looking down at his own hand. “All the time. It’s become habitual, you know? I barely remember a time when I wasn’t taking care of her, so I wake up every day here feeling like I’ve forgotten to do something.”
“That’s really sweet of you, Spencer. You’re a good son.” A rare occurrence of her calling him by his actual name. “I do agree with her, though. You do deserve a fun, normal summer… I get what you mean –not fully– obviously, but I helped my mom take care of her dad when he got cancer. He moved in with us and everything.”
“...it’s not cancer.”
“Oh, can I ask what it is? You don’t have to tell–”
“It’s schizophrenia. Please don’t tell people. It’s something I’ve always kept to myself.”
She waves her hand, “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t tell anyone what we talk about, not even Dani.”
“Really?”
She nods and looks up at him with intense sincerity, “Yeah, of course.”
He briefly fears that their interactions will now be awkward with the weight of his admission. He knows her better than that by now, though.
“I really should tell everyone that you cheat at poker, though.”
“I do not!” He exclaims.
“Then how have you won each game?!”
His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Haven’t I told you that I’m from Vegas?”
“Oh. My. God. You are a cheater!” She exclaims, smacking his arm with her pillow, sending popcorn and sour gummy worms flying across the mattress.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She asks him what his favorite color is. He tells her that it's purple. The following day, she hands him a friendship bracelet with various shades of purple thread braided together. As she helps him tie it on his wrist, he bashfully tells her that he doesn’t have one to give her. She laughs and points to the dozens that decorate her wrists, “That’s okay. I have enough.”
He asks for her favorite color anyway and heads straight to the gift shop to buy string and a tutorial book. They didn’t have a book, but they had a lot of string, so he bought more than he thought he would need, just in case.
All night, he experiments with the thread, attempting to interlace it into something that resembles a bracelet. The majority of the night, his fingers are tangled in the string, and he’s created nothing but knots, but as the sun rises past his window, he finally has something he’s proud to give her.
She sees him slumped over his breakfast tray with periwinkle dusted under his eyes. “Jeez, rough night?”
At the sound of her voice, his head perks up, and he digs in his pocket for the messy bracelet he made for her. “It’s not much, and it’s not as good as the one you gave me, or any of the ones you already have, but-”
She snatches it from his hand, beaming. “I love it.”
He helps her tie it around her ankle, since there’s no more room on her wrists. Spencer wouldn’t have minded if his creation were sandwiched between the others, but knowing that it gets to live on its own makes him feel special. At least twice a day, she’ll see it every time she puts her shoes on or takes them off. If she has to retie them at any point, she’ll see it again. He can’t help but smile at the thought.
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Week 3
They’re walking laps around the lake, talking about everything and nothing.
She asks him things like, “What do you think are the three worst things to bring to a deserted island?”
And, “What’s your favorite skit from All That?”
He asks her to give him time to think about the first question, wanting to ensure he suggests the truly worst things.
For the second, he winces and tells her that he has no idea what that is.
“You’ve never seen All That?!”
He shakes his head.
She drags him all the way to the common area and sits him on the couch before grabbing the TV remote. She mumbles, “I really hope it’s on right now,” as she channel surfs.
It was on, and she laughed the hardest at Vital Information. Spencer didn’t really understand the sense of humor, but caught himself staring at her three separate times. She looks really pretty when she laughs.
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They’re sitting together under their tree. He has a book abandoned in his lap, and she has her Walkman. She insisted on sharing one of her favorite albums with him, Wild Mood Swings by The Cure. They’re sharing her earbuds, one in each of their ears. He did hesitate before putting one in his, but she was looking at him so expectantly and excitedly that he’d be foolish to miss out on this opportunity in fear of germs.
“You do know who The Cure is, right?”
“Of course I do!” It’s not a lie; he’s heard of them and has heard a couple of their songs, but he’s never listened to one of their albums start to finish like this.
They sit with their shoulders pressed together, the rough bark of the tree against their backs. Sunlight flitters through the gaps in the leaves, and a soft breeze kisses their skin.
It’s not really the type of music he’d usually listen to, but it does make sense that she’d like it.
His favorite song was Mint Car. It was eerily accurate to their situation.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She manages to convince him to try archery with her, swearing that it’ll be really fun and worth his time.
Spencer is not having a good time. It’s the hottest day of the year so far, and he’s sweating buckets. His shirt is damp, and beads of perspiration keep rolling down his forehead and into his eyes. He’s barely strong enough to pull back the bowstring, and his arm is sore, aching, and trembling. Only one of his arrows has made it to the target board, and it stuck into the exterior edge that surrounds the circle.
He hates this. He’d rather hang out with her under their tree, or literally anywhere other than here.
And, to make matters worse, Simon, Spencer’s bunkmate, has been picking on Spencer all afternoon.
“You know the target is the giant circle over there, right?”
“Maybe you should just stick to reading.”
“It’s like he’s scared of everything.”
“Why do you dress like an accountant?”
She told Spencer to just ignore him, tried helping him with his stance, and whispered little jokes into his ear in an effort to make him feel better. It sort of worked.
“She only hangs out with you because she feels bad for you, you know that, right?”
Spencer slowly lowered the bow and dashed away after Simon’s last remark.
With his back facing them, he didn’t see her stomp over to Simon and shove him backwards, making him fall into the grass. He didn’t see the finger she pointed at his face while screaming. He was too far away to hear most of what she said, but “What the hell is wrong with you?” traveled across the field.
Once their tree is in his eyeline, he stops running. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he crouches at the base of it and buries his face in his hands. He can barely breathe, and it’s only partially from running. His heart hurts.
She knows exactly where to find him, so it’s not long before he hears her scoff, “I can’t believe that guy. He’s such an asshole.”
Spencer hurriedly wipes his cheeks on his sleeves and stammers, “It’s fine.”
She sighs and lowers herself next to him, fidgeting with her hair, before she asks, “You don’t think what he said was true, do you?”
He doesn’t respond. He sniffles and tilts his head upward to stare at the covering of leaves above them.
“Spencer?”
“...I don’t know.”
“I haven’t gone out of my way to find you every single day because I feel bad for you. I haven’t skipped most of the camp activities because I feel bad for you. I haven’t spent three weeks trying to get to know you because-”
“Then why have you?!” He cuts her off, exasperated.
“I don’t know! Because I like you!”
He slowly turns his head to look at her, wide-eyed and mystified, “You like me?”
Scoffing, she says, “Obviously, genius,” and lightly shoves his shoulder. “You’re my best friend here.”
“Oh…” Spencer averts his gaze to the grass below them, “You’re my best friend, too… Here, I mean, of course, also…” His cheeks gradually transition from pink to red, and he hopes she either doesn’t notice or attributes it to the hot summer day.
She sharply nods, “Cool. Good,” before rising back to her feet and holding a hand out for him. “Wanna go get Icees from the mess hall?”
Wiping his hands on his slacks, he grabs her hand and lifts himself from the ground.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
They take their usual seats in the dining hall, nibbling on sandwiches with slightly stale bread for lunch. She has a sketchbook sprawled on the edge of their table, displaying a half-done drawing of the lake at sunset.
While chewing, she asks, “Can I give you a tattoo?”
He flinches, “What?! No?!”
She amusedly rolls her eyes, “Not a real one, silly.” Pointing to the back of his hand with her marker, she adds, “A temporary one.”
“Oh,” he sighs in relief, then smiles, “Sure.”
She grabs his hand and holds it flat against the table, before slowly and carefully sketching out various lines on the back of it.
He lightly laughs, fingers twitching, “It kinda tickles.”
She gives him a stern look, “You have to stay still, or your ink will be botched.”
The corners of his mouth turn upward as he tries to stay serious, “Right. I’m sorry, tattooist.”
She draws a sun and a moon in the center of his hand, surrounded by various-sized stars and swirls. He loves it. He loves it so much that he delicately wipes the skin there each time he washes his hands for the next few days.
He gets distracted by the sight of it while he’s reading, and will halt his skimming to trace a finger over the fading lines.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
He does really like the nights out here. Being so far away from the city limits makes the stars the most prominent he’s ever seen them. They definitely don’t look like this in Vegas.
They’re sitting on a log by the campfire, faces painted golden by the flickering flames. There are a few other campgoers scattered around the firepit, but they’re the only ones on their log. There’s a boy softly strumming his guitar a couple of logs over – Nathan, Spencer thinks his name is.
She’s positioned her skewered marshmallow as close to the embers as possible, waiting until the exterior is crispy, exactly how she likes it.
He purses his lips and points to the fire, “Um, I think you’re burning it.”
She rolls her eyes, “This is objectively the best way to cook it.”
When she recedes the stick, the marshmallow is ablaze, and she pulls it closer to them to blow it out. Spencer flinches and scoots away from it.
She eats it right off the stick – perfectly crunchy on the outside and gooey in the middle.
Some of the goo remains on the branch, so she positions it back into the fire to burn it off and prepare it for another one.
“I believe it’s your turn, Professor Paperback.”
He really doesn’t love the idea of eating food off of a stick, but he carefully plunges the marshmallow on the edge of it and scoots forward to hover it over the fire.
It takes him three tries to cook it how he likes it. The first one is barely torched, the second was too burnt, but the third was perfectly golden and delectable.
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Week 4
He finds her laid out on a hammock with a baseball cap lying over her face. It’s unclear if she’s sleeping or just resting her eyes, so he approaches her slowly. She seems to sense his presence and moves the hat away as she sits up.
He gestures at the hammock next to her, “Can I sit?”
She wordlessly pats the intertwined rope next to her.
He grips the edge of the hammock and carefully lowers himself down, but his weight tilts the entire thing forward and sends them both flying to the ground.
Spencer lands on top of her with a light groan.
His eyes flit all over her face. He’s never been this close to a girl before. The freckles on her nose are more visible than usual, and he’s tempted to count them all. Unintentionally, his gaze lowers to her mouth. Her lips are shiny and slightly tinted by her strawberry lip balm.
Quickly glancing back up at her eyes, he adjusts his arm to push himself off of her. He whispers, “Sorry.” His heartbeat stutters when he realizes her eyeline was on his lips, too. He anxiously licks them and bites his lower lip.
She moves a hand to the back of his neck and brings their lips together. His breath catches in his throat as they touch. It lasts all of three seconds, but they slot together perfectly.
She laughs and gently shoves his chest, “Now get off me, you’re heavy.”
He can taste a faint hint of strawberry on his lips after they’ve pulled away.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
She comes up with an elaborate plan to come by his cabin after lights out to pick him up, so they can carve their names into their tree.
She said they should meet at 11:43, so it’s not as suspicious.
The screen door screeches as he steps out onto the wooden porch at 11:42, and he can see a tiny circle of light coming from her flashlight as she approaches.
She whispers, “Ready for our secret mission?” and he lightly chuckles and nods, carefully avoiding the step that’s broken as he descends the stairs.
They’re both in their pajamas, and the handle of a knife sticks out of her pocket – he’s sure it doesn’t get more suspicious than this.
It’s dark, really dark. Her flashlight only allows them to see a few feet in front of them. Spencer is freaked out by how little they can see. He’s afraid they might get caught. Every shadow looks like a counselor waiting to bust them.
Spencer wants to hold her hand as they walk to the edge of camp, but he’s too nervous.
He whispers, “What if someone sees us?”
“Then we run.” She says simply. “Or we could start making out as a diversion.”
“What?!” He whisper screams.
She laughs, “Relax, I’m kidding.”
As they get closer to the tree, the flashlight does little to illuminate the full expanse of the bark and leaves. She pulls the knife out of her pocket and scans the light over the trunk, “Where should we do it?”
He points to the gap in the roots that they always sit between, “Near there?”
She nods before crouching down. Spencer stands a few feet behind her, stiff and alert – frantically looking around as she carves.
Once she’s done, she shines the light in his face, and he winces, lifting a hand to cover the gleam. She laughs, “Oh, sorry,” and lowers it.
Squatting next to her, their shoulders brush as he glances over her etching. As he holds his palm out for the knife, their fingers graze, and a shiver runs down his spine.
Spencer engraves his name right under hers. He finds comfort in the permanence of what they’re doing. Long after they leave camp, long after the summer ends, many years from now, their time together will be marked permanently in the bark.
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They’re perched on the edge of the dock, shoes behind them with their socks tucked inside, feet dangling in the water. Spencer still isn’t over his fear of the bacteria-filled water.
As the sun sets over the edge of the lake, she tells him, “I really don’t want this summer to end.”
“Because you love it here so much?”
“Yeah, it’s my one escape from the real world... And I’ll miss you.”
Spencer blushes, “I’ll miss you too,” and ducks his head. “What do you wish you could escape from?”
“My parents just fight a lot, is all. This is my last year having to deal with it before I move out, but I’m worried about leaving my siblings behind.”
He completely understands what it’s like to have combative parents. “What do they fight about?’
She acerbically laughs, “Anything and Everything. It’s this weird, toxic cycle, and neither of them will leave the other, for some reason.”
He whispers, “I’m sorry.”
She shrugs, “It is what it is,” and kicks her feet in the water.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Every year, the last night of camp features a Goodbye Formal Dance. Spencer didn’t plan on going, but she insisted that he be her date.
Spencer got dressed in his normal attire: an ironed button-up and slacks. The only difference was the addition of a tie and a blazer. James clapped him on the shoulder and told him that he looked nice, which slightly calmed Spencer’s nerves. Simon sat grumpily in his bunk in his pajamas and rolled his eyes at his roommates for caring about the stupid dance.
James is obviously taking Dani to the dance. Simon asked Ellie, and she laughed in his face.
Spencer’s heart feels like it could beat right out of his chest, and he’s shocked that it didn’t when he laid eyes on her.
There aren’t words to describe how she looks in her dress. Beautiful isn’t strong enough, gorgeous and elegant get close, but not close enough. The only thing he’s sure of is that she’s breathtaking.
She’s standing on the porch of her cabin in a glittery, emerald green dress. She’s traded her usual bracelets for a variety of mixed metal bangles. Her usual necklaces and rings decorate her as well, along with the anklet Spencer made for her. Her white, high-top Converse have been traded for sparkly heels.
Spencer is frozen in the dirt as he takes her in. The setting sun reflects off of her dress and shoes, making her look like a disco ball. She reminds him of the way the lake shimmers when the sun reflects off it. She’s luminescent.
“You’re gonna catch flies, Professor.”
He hadn’t even realized his lips were parted, so he quickly clamped them closed, as a flush rose on his cheeks. “Sorry. You look… amazing.”
She feels warmth spread up her face as she smiles. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
His feet finally separate from the ground, and he takes a few steps towards her, holding his hand out to guide her down the rickety, wooden stairs. She intertwines her fingers with his, and his breath catches in his throat.
As they walk towards the field where the dance will be, Spencer rummages his brain for something to say. “Oh, James told me he’s going to ask Dani to try long-distance.”
She gasps, glancing over at him with an amused expression, “No freaking way. I told you!”
He chuckles, “You did.”
As they walk, Spencer can’t take his eyes off their joined hands. He carefully guides her around tree roots and divots in the dirt. He wants to ask her what’s going to happen with them after tomorrow – if they’ll keep talking, or if it will be the end of their relatio- friendship.
The sound of her voice interrupts his thoughts, “I don’t know if I could do long-distance.”
His heart sinks into his stomach. He hears the sound of his own voice respond, “Oh- Yeah- Me neither…”
As they get closer to the field, they see string lights hung in the nearby trees, connecting branches to each other. The corners contain tall speakers that emit music Spencer doesn’t recognize. On one side, there’s a long table with a punch bowl and snacks, and various circular tables litter the span of the lawn. Groups of their fellow campmates are scattered around – some are dancing, some are standing stiffly. Everyone’s dressed up, even the camp counselors and staff.
James is dancing with Dani in the center of the field, spinning her out and around. They look unbelievably overjoyed, and Spencer is pushing down a boiling jealousy. He looks over at her, and she’s watching them with a small smile on her face that he doesn’t know how to read.
He tells her, “They look really happy.”
She turns to face him with a soft expression, “They do.”
Ellie comes barrelling towards them and grabs her arm, pulling her towards the lake, “We’re taking a girls picture, c’mon!”
Spencer reluctantly releases her hand and gives the girls a slight, polite smile. His heart aches as he watches her walk away.
“Hey, man.” James materializes behind him and makes him flinch.
“Hi.”
It’s silent for a moment as they watch the three girls grin and pose. Spencer can’t help the way the corners of his mouth raise at the vision of her.
James nudges his arm, “Are you going to tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
James just gives him a knowing look.
Spencer shrugs, “There’s nothing to tell.”
James hums in acknowledgement, but dismissively. He gestures to Spencer’s wrist, “That’s the one she made you?”
Spencer self-consciously pulls down his sleeve and nods with a quiet, “Yeah.”
The girls head back towards them, arm-in-arm and laughing.
“I think you should say something – you may regret it if you don’t.”
She skips up to Spencer’s side and loops her arm through his. He revels in the weight of her palm against his forearm and fights the urge to pull her in closer to his side. A part of him wants to keep her tucked into him and never let her go.
“Wait– is that you guys’ roommate?” Ellie asks, pointing towards the edge of the field, by a tree.
Spencer and James follow her aim, where they do, in fact, find their fourth roommate heavily making out with a curly-haired boy against the tree. Spencer’s jaw drops, and James chortles.
“I thought he left!” James says.
“I wondered why he left all of his stuff, though,” Spencer adds.
“I’m so glad we never got a fourth roommate,” Dani laughs.
The music fades into something soft and low-tempo, and Dani starts pulling James into the center of the field. Ellie announces that she’s going to get some punch, leaving Spencer alone with her.
Spencer is haunted by what James said to him, and feels his cheeks heat.
She unlinks her arm from his, and a small, quiet protesting noise releases from the back of his throat. She’s soon offering him her palm and asks, “May I have this dance?”
He accepts her hand without thinking, and doesn’t say anything until they’re halfway across the grass. “Wait– I don’t know how.”
She lightly laughs, “You’ll be fine. Just follow my lead and don’t step on my toes.”
He whispers, “I’ll try,” and tries to swallow his nerves.
Once they reach the edge of the group of people dancing, Spencer stands stiffly as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. Her head tilts, and she smiles as she tells him, “This is the part where you put your hands on my waist.”
He raises his hands and mumbles, “Oh– Yes– Right–” before gently placing them on her sides.
As they slowly sway, she’s so close to him that he can see the glitter brushed on her eyelids and can smell her vanilla-lavender perfume. He attempts to slow his mind, to really focus and savor this moment with her, but all he can think about is how he may never see her again after tomorrow.
He didn’t even want to come to this stupid camp. He was miserable for the majority of the first week and was counting down the days until he could go home. Multiple times, he considered arranging a way to depart early. If only he could go back and tell himself to slow down and delight in the limited time he had at StarShine. The limited time he’d have with her.
His eyes burn with unshed tears, and his gaze shifts around the field. Then, he’s even more upset to be wasting his last moments with her not being able to look at her.
When he glances back at her, she’s looking up at him through mascaraed lashes and with confusion and concern. “Why so glum, chum?”
His lips only slightly twitch into the ghost of a smile at her quip.
With a shaky voice, he tells her, “I just can’t believe it’s our last night,” and a lone tear falls down his cheekbone. Before he can reach up to hurriedly wipe it away, her tender fingers delicately brush it away for him.
“I know. It’s like this every year. When you first get here, it feels like a month will last forever.”
He’s reminded of the fact that she’s used to this saddening feeling coinciding with relief and anticipation for next summer. Thinking about not coming back next summer is hard enough for him, but it must be insurmountable for her. “I’m sorry. It’s probably harder for you than it is for me.”
She squeezes his shoulder, “Hey, don’t do that. It’s hard for everyone. I actually feel sadder for you since you only got to come here once.”
He nods and concentrates his attention on the feeling of her silky dress under his fingertips, slightly firming his grip in an attempt to ground himself.
His voice is small and tentative as he asks, “Can we please try to stay in touch?”
Her fingers stroke the hair at the base of his neck as she responds, “Yeah, honey, we can try…” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head, “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”
Spencer has a twin blush on his face as he smiles. “It’s okay, I liked it.”
They continue their slow swaying until the song comes to a close. Spencer can’t grasp that all good things must come to an end. He’s never had to until now.
As the night persists, they flit from the punch bowl to a table, and back to the dance floor. They meet up with James, Dani, and Ellie for the upbeat songs, and Spencer moves rigidly. His wish for the night to slow down seems to only make it speed up.
Eventually, the Goodbye Formal comes to a close, and Spencer finds himself walking her back to her cabin. As they reach the rickety porch stairs, she steps up to the first step before he grabs her hand, “Wait…”
She turns to face him and is eye-level with him. As she moves, the breeze flits through her hair and sends the aroma of her shampoo and perfume towards Spencer. It makes him feel lightheaded.
With raised eyebrows, she squeezes his hand. “Hm?”
“Um… Can I– Could I– Maybe– Kiss you?”
She smiles, “I thought you’d never ask, Professor.”
Her hands rise to his shoulders, and his lift to her cheeks. The moonlight reflects in her lip gloss, and their breaths intermingle in the space between them. Slowly and tentatively, Spencer leans in and brushes his lips against hers. The contact tingles and feels electrically charged. She pulls him closer, and their mouths slot together.
This is only the second kiss Spencer has ever had, but he already feels more confident, especially since both have been with her. Hesitantly, he deepens their kiss and sighs in relief when she’s receptive to it.
Despite his begging and praying to the universe, their kiss and their subsequent night come to an end.
He walks back to his cabin with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His joy from their kiss conflicts with his dread for the morning to arrive.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Spencer barely sleeps. He loses track of how many times he wakes up throughout the night. By the time his alarm goes off, his eyes have a dull burning sensation.
Looking around his cabin, he takes in the lack of decor and personal items that had littered the room for the past month. He, James, and Simon have packed up the majority of their things into their duffel bags and suitcases. Their fourth roommate’s area has been completely cleared out, as if he was never there. The early morning sun refracts off the oak wood, painting the furniture a honey brown. Maybe Spencer could just unpack his possessions and refuse to leave.
The buses leave in an hour, so he reluctantly gets out of bed and gets dressed for the day. When he gets to the bathhouse to wash his face and brush his teeth, he’s taken aback by his disheveled appearance reflected in the foggy mirror.
When he gets back to his cabin, he takes his time carefully writing his phone number, email, and address onto a piece of notebook paper. After meticulously folding it into a square, he writes her name in loopy cursive on the outside and tucks it into his pocket.
There are still thirty minutes until he needs to be at the bus loop, so he thoroughly scans the room to ensure he hasn’t left anything behind and waves goodbye to a sleepy James, who’s only just woken up. The boy sits up in bed to offer him a fistbump, and Spencer clumsily obliges. Simon nor his belongings are anywhere to be seen, but Spencer wasn’t planning on exchanging any pleasantries with him, anyway.
Slinging his bags over his shoulder, Spencer exits the cabin for the last time. He turns to face it and takes a moment to savor the memories of staying there for the last month. He definitely won’t miss Simon, but James was always affable. It’s too bad he never got to know his mysterious fourth roommate.
He decides to head towards their tree to kill some time reading before he has to head to the camp entrance. Restless, he only lasts a few minutes of reading and re-reading the same page in his book before he gives up and sets it down. His eyes keep glazing over, and he feels sick.
Her voice permeates his overwrought thoughts, “I figured I’d find you here.”
Glancing up, he feels his lips turn upward out of habit. His uneasiness seeps through, however, so it appears as a half-smile, half-grimace. She’s dressed in a tank top and sweatshorts – something comfortable for the journey home.
He huffs out something that could almost be considered a laugh. “I had to say goodbye to our tree.”
“Oh yes, of course.” She lowers herself to sit next to him, their shoulders pressed together.
Spencer digs in his pocket for the paper and gingerly passes it over to her. “Um, this is for you… Obviously, since your name is on it… It has my phone number, email, and address.”
She giggles, “All three?”
He nods, a light pink flush rising on his cheekbones. “Yes. Just in case.”
Setting it in her lap, she reaches into her pocket and retrieves a similar piece of folded paper. His name is written neatly on the outside, and he unfolds it to find her phone number, email, and address.
Pursing his lips, he carefully refolds the sheet and tucks it into the front pocket of his shirt, right over his heart.
They sit in a comfortable silence for a while. Eventually, she wraps both of her arms around one of his and rests her head on his shoulder. In the distance, a whistle blows, and someone shouts a fifteen-minute warning for the buses.
Spencer asks, “Where’s your stuff?”
Her voice is soft and gentle as she responds, “It’s still in my cabin. My parents are coming to pick me up.”
Spencer hums in acknowledgement.
Closing his eyes, he focuses on the feeling of the light breeze on his skin, the weight of her against his body, and the scent of her perfume. He knows he’ll never forget this or her, even without an eidetic memory. Even when he’s old, and his memory starts to falter.
“Thank you.” He murmurs.
“For what?”
He inhales deeply, “For a good and normal summer. For being my friend. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me. You made it easy, anyway, since you’re the one who stole my tree.”
He lightly laughs and can almost feel their inscription in the bark on his back. “Now it’s forever our tree.”
With a light squeeze to his arm, she confesses, “I’ll really miss you, Spencer.”
He whispers, “I’ll miss you more.”
A voice calls out a final warning for boarding the buses. Spencer’s heart plunges.
She warily separates her body from his, and his arm feels cold without her holding onto it, despite the late July heat. After rising to stand, she holds her hand out to help him up.
With a sad smile, she says, “Well, this is it.”
Without thinking, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug.
“Don’t forget me,” he pleads into her hair.
She runs her palms up and down his back. “I don’t think I could if I tried.”
They slowly separate, and she presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye, Professor Paperback.”
He jestingly rolls his tearful eyes, “Goodbye.”
She turns and walks away, and he watches her go until he can’t see her anymore. With one last glance at their tree, at their names carved into the oak, he lifts his bags and trudges to the buses.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
They kept in touch for a while; a steady string of emails and occasional phone calls kept Spencer sane and steady for almost a year. Then, her responses had increasing gaps between them.
He told himself that she was just busy with work and college, but those self-reassurances became progressively difficult to absorb. Eventually, it had been an entire year since he had heard from her.
In the end, the only tangible proof of their time together that summer lived in the fibers of the friendship bracelet she made for him. He wore it until the knot and threads unraveled. Now, it lives buried in a pocket in his satchel. He feels an electric pang in his heart every time his fingers brush against it while he’s digging for a pen or a paperclip, but he can’t imagine getting rid of it. He probably never will.
He thinks about her all of the time. More often than he’d ever admit to anyone. Every time he looks down at his black Converse, he remembers her quirkily doodled white ones.
Sometimes the sunset looks exactly the same as it did setting into the lake.
He wanted to tell her that he had gotten a job with the FBI. He wonders what she would’ve thought about it or said. Would she have been proud of him?
He bought Wild Mood Swings on vinyl and listens to it every few months. It’s now Jupiter Crash that reminds him of her. If he closes his eyes when Mint Car plays, he can still feel her shoulder pressed against his and the soft breeze whispering onto his face. He can still smell her body spray with an undercurrent of sunscreen. He tries to follow the advice given in Gone!, but how is he supposed to get up and get out when the best person he ever met stopped returning his emails and phone calls? He knows the world is passing him by, but knowing doesn’t make acting any easier.
Five years after meeting her, he returns to his apartment after a grueling case over state lines. The soles of his feet ache, and he wants nothing more than to collapse onto his couch with a box of takeout. On his way inside the vestibule of his complex, he stops by his mailbox and collects the small stack of letters from the metal tin. Lazily flipping through it while he walks up the stairs, he passes his usual journal subscriptions and his water bill, before he freezes in the stairwell.
The letter has a sticker with his name and address in the center, surrounded by little flowers. Glancing up to the top left, his heart races as he reads the names there:
James Parker & Daniella Price
Turning to sit on the step, he tosses the remaining stack of mail next to him and tears the letter open. He’s being told to save the date for their wedding.