Retrace the Lines

Quinn

When I wake up the next morning, he's there.

Ok, not physically there - that would be a slightly larger issue. He's stuck in my mind like a leech though, sucking away any thoughts that don't involve him.

I don't wonder, 'what will I eat today?' I wonder, 'will I run into Josh in the dining hall?' I don't wonder, 'how far away is my cabin from the lake?' I wonder, 'how far away is Josh's cabin from mine?'

Am I being pathetic? Maybe a little.

Staring up at the wooden slats supporting the bunk above me, I consider why he's the centre of my thoughts. I try to remind myself that I haven't seen him in years, that this reaction is natural and will fade.

Unfortunately, my odd fixation on Josh has made me even more apprehensive for the day to come. I begrudgingly roll out of bed and force myself over to the shelves in the corner, grab my clothes and head straight for the bathroom.

The orientation for all the counsellors is set to start at eight in the dining hall, meaning that the grounds are going to get quite packed pretty soon. We'll have one day to get settled and meet the other camp leaders and then the kids will horde in tomorrow.

I check my phone and see that it's seven, which means I have an hour to have some breakfast and mentally prepare myself for orientation. Eventually I trudge into the empty dining hall and grab some cereal from the lined-up boxes. As I pour the fruit loops into my bowl, I pray that the girls placed in my cabin will be friendly.

As I munch, I hear the door swing open behind me. I don't even have to look back to figure out who it is. My body tenses as the lingering scent of vanilla wafts past. When I look up and meet his eyes, his face is set into a deep smirk.

He's daring me to speak.

I simply narrow my eyes, standing to put my empty bowl on the dish rack. I can feel his eyes tracing me as I charge over to the door and escape.

I thank my lucky stars that after today that the dining hall will be full of people when we eat, because avoiding him is a lot harder than I anticipated.

...

A bit before eight I'm back in the dining hall, nervously tapping the table as I wait for orientation to begin. In an attempt to exert some of my anxious energy, I came early to help Uncle Rob set up the tables.

Each table is set for a cabin group. In order to display the number, he set up standing paper trees with the number printed on each side. The trees are bright orange and I wouldn't expect anything subtler from my uncle.

As I continue to tap restlessly counsellors start to excitedly file in. The bright orange of their shirts is slightly subdued in the dim dining hall light as they search for their cabin number. I scan the teens who are walking in and am surprised to see that Josh still isn't here.

Since Josh has been helping Uncle Rob for the past week or so, I assumed he'd be helping with orientation set up. I was fully prepared to avoid him. Lucky for me, he didn't show up.

It's disconcerting to picture Rob and Josh together this past week. It definitely reconnects him to my family. Our parents have always been close, but they caught on fast. At least, I know mine did. They never mention Josh to me anymore and when they're talking about his parents they strategically leave out information.

As hubbub of the room begins to grow, chatter seeps into every corner. However, I am still yet to have another girl at my table. I try to distract myself by guessing the ages of the people walking past, but I end up just scanning for Josh in the crowd. Lost in my thoughts, I barely notice when someone finally sits down next to me.