Hopeful Undertone

Chapter 8: Lightning and Sparks

By the time we arrived at Camp Willow Creek, I was a different person. I had just emerged from two hours of conversation with one of my new favorite people, and the purity of the experience was still hanging around me like a cloud, protective and wholesome.

Groups of people began to arrive, gathering in one of the outdoor pavilions. Lyla, who had gotten there before us, brightened when she saw us walk up—though whether because of me or Tyler, I couldn't tell. We hugged and found a picnic table to sit on while we caught up about everything that had happened since the last time I had seen her.

Abram, the last of our group to arrive, sauntered up to the pavilion with his usual lack of urgency, flipping his hair back like a supermodel.

"Hey losers," he said, smiling at us. 

He leaned over the table in an awkward attempt to hug me, his eyes on Tyler and Josh a couple tables over. I couldn't have hugged him back even if I'd wanted to because of how I was was positioned on the table. The best I could do was brace myself so that I wouldn't fall over. 

"Agh!" cried Lyla, losing her balance as he wrapped an arm around her. "Can you not?" 

"Sheesh, sorry," said Abram, brushing a tendril of hair out of his jade-colored eyes and moseying over to the guys' table. 

"What is his deal lately?" Lyla said, watching him leave. 

"I have no idea!" I said. "I thought it was just me."

"No!" she said. "He has been so weird lately. Last night he wouldn't stop bothering me about who you were getting a ride with."

"What?" I said. "Why?" 

"No idea!" she said. "When I told him Tyler was taking you, he asked me to convince you to ride with him instead." 

I looked over at the guys' table, frowning. Abram noticed my stare and smiled.

"I don't get it," I said, irritated. "Every time I've ever wanted his attention, he's ignored it or pulled away or magically showed up with a girlfriend after months of leading me on. Now that I don't want anything to do with him, he's all over me."

Lyla leaned forward conspiratorially. "He's like a dog trying to mark his territory right now," she whispered.

I snickered, glancing up to make sure no one had heard. 

"Seriously!" she said. "What have I always told you?" 

I nodded in acknowledgment. 

Both Lyla and I had been infatuated with Abram at first, but she got over it about a month into knowing him. Years of being in or between relationships had given her a keen sense of when she was being jerked around by a guy—and absolutely no tolerance for it. 

Her theory about Abram was that a lifetime of looking like the lead singer of a boy band had trained him to seek out friendships with girls. He knew that they found him charming and liked being the center of their attention. Now that he was only one of the guys here, he felt a renewed need to vie for our favor. 

"I mean, can you blame him?" I said, agreeing with Lyla. "Tyler and Josh are older..."

"Taller..." Lyla added. 

"More talented..." I said, laughing. 

"Actual rock stars..." said Lyla. 

"Not fickle, narcissistic man-children..."

"Right?" Lyla agreed. "Honestly, he should be jealous." 

"Should we even be mad about it?" I asked. "I mean, now that I think about it, jealousy is the proper reaction in this situation."