Saving Scott

5: Da Lay-deeees

Summer Camp was my favorite Bridgewood tradition. I lived for it. The sun, Vitamin D, two weeks without parental supervision. Beautiful.

"Stop smiling like that you're creeping me out," Matt said as we claimed a spot on the bus.

"Your face is creeping me out," I shot back, too excited to really care what he was saying. He laughed and fell into the seat next to me, slapping high-fives and giving out complicated hand-shakes with people who passed by.

Before long we had a group around us of people who were just as excited as me about summer activities and I found myself falling right into the pattern of Scott White: Popular Jock, All American Guy, Savior of the Bored.

The trip passed in a blur of fart jokes, stealing each others snacks, and games that got us sushed more than once by the coach driving. I took the fall for a shouted curse word only because it had been Matt that had said it and my white-privilaged smile could get us out of anything.

Four hours passed in a jittery need to stretch my legs and a dwindling collection of topics. When the bus finally stopped I jumped over Matt and grinned back at him when he yelled at me for nearly taking his head off.

I was free.

The sun was down but the night air was still warm and it welcomed me like an old friend, bringing with it the scents of trees and water and firewood that the city just didn't have. People flooded out around me talking about bags and meet-ups and drifting off into friend groups. I didn't bother moving.

Someone brought me my bag and Matt's arm landed around my shoulder eventually, two keys dangling from his hand. "We're rooming with Jackson and Samuel."

"Sweet," I said, taking one of the keys from him. "I'm surprised Jackson isn't rooming with the counselors."

"Yeah, I dunno, something about less space this year," Matt said as he released me so he could lead the way to our cabin. Jackson caught up with us halfway there, and we yelled greetings at each other before we got the door open. Samuel was already inside, sitting in front of a pile of Capri Sun pouches with a syringe clasped between his teeth and a bottle of cheap vodka between his legs.

The three of us stood there in shock until Samuel spit the syringe out and said, "What the fuck guys, close the door!"

Jackson and I rushed inside and Matt pulled the door closed sharply behind him. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

Samuel grinned. "I'm a fucking genious guys. Check this out. Needle -" he wiggled the syringe then inserted it into the vodka, pulled the alcohol up inside of it, then carefully stuck the needle into the Capri Sun and emptied it. Then he jammed the straw in and sucked the whole thing down in one go.

"Yo!" Matt said, at the same time I said, "Freaking awesome!"

"Aren't those supposed to be for your insulin?" Jackson asked.

Samuel threw a Capri Sun at him. "Bro, shut up and help me so we can get wasted at the cookout tonight!"

***

"This is gonna be it, man," Matt said, gripping onto the football with one hand and pointing it towards the sky. "This is gonna be my summer."

I felt my eyebrows raise as I held up my hands. "Oh yeah?"

Matt grinned and aimed the ball in my direction. "Yeah. This is it!"

"What the hell are you going on about?" I asked, jogging back a bit to make the catch.