“Oh, and I’m in Delta Tau Kappa,” he adds. I’ve never even considered joining a sorority and it seems like everyone here does that kind of stuff. On weekends they probably throw raging keggers and underwear parties. I’ve seen stuff like that on TV.
Nearly everyone is older than me and is a returning counselor. Parker, Will, and I are the only new hires. Most people are dressed in shorts and tees, but this one guy is dressed in camo pants and big brown hiking boots. Eric (“I refuse to play the animal introduction game”) wears a Braves cap, chews gum, and is twenty-one and a senior at Auburn. He doesn’t laugh along with everybody else and he rolls his eyes when anyone mentions a frat. He seems very into the whole Camping Experience because he keeps bringing up fly-fishing and trailblazing.
“It’s great to meet everyone,” Megan says. “Let me go over our schedule for the next two days. Tonight we’re going to focus on ethics and Bible studies we’ll do with the campers, but tomorrow and Sunday we’ll do a run-through of a week at camp. We’ll grill out and we’ll go swimming, canoeing, kayaking, and creek stomping. I encourage you all to get to know each other. Each week you’ll be paired with a new counselor of the opposite sex. Our groups of campers consist of twenty boys and girls, and your cabins will be side-by-side. You and your co-counselor are responsible for your group all hours of the day, except for during activities, when campers rotate among us.”
I wrap my arms around my leg and drop my chin onto my knee. Thinking of children reminds me of Emily’s baby and what I did. I shut my eyes.
Megan tells us who our partners are for week one. Parker pouts when she hears she’s been paired with über camper Eric while Will’s paired with Andrea. Matt’s with Catfish Carlie and I’m matched with Bumblebee Brad.
He lifts his chin and winks at me. Not in a creepy way, but in a friendly way. I decide I like Bumblebee Brad.
“One last thing,” Megan says, twirling her whistle like she’s doing nunchucks. I’m afraid she’ll put somebody’s eye out. “Everyone gets weekends off. But no one is allowed to be here over the weekend—it’s a liability for the regional conference. As some of you know, we had to fire two counselors who broke this rule last year.”
We take a break before our camp tour and our first session: “A Practical Introduction to Sharing God’s Love with Young People.”
I dart away from Great Oak before I have to speak to anyone. I go to my Volvo, to grab my sketchpad and pencils and to check my cell, and surprisingly, I don’t have any missed calls. I can’t believe my parents haven’t called a bazillion times already. And Emily usually calls me once a day, but I haven’t been answering.
Not since our fight.
I angle my phone toward the sky. I don’t seem to be getting any reception here. Not even one bar. I should be using this time to talk to God about everything anyway. And I’m glad I don’t have to feel guilty about not picking up Emily’s calls.
I drop the cell into my car’s cup holder, stealing a deep breath. I take in the purple and pink sunset. This isn’t bad so far—I mean, besides the fact most of these counselors seem obsessed with their fraternities. I noticed Andrea playing with her necklace made of Greek letters, and the Jeep parked next to me has a “Greek for Life” Delta Tau Kappa bumper sticker and no doors (must be Matt’s).
He drives a Jeep with no doors?
I lean my head against my steering wheel and pray and hope and think about the sign. The sign I desperately need.
Without Emily, without soccer, and without my relationship with God, who am I anymore? Can you forgive me? I pray.
Can I forgive myself?
The memory of the fight floods my mind and won’t go away. I clutch my steering wheel.
Three weeks ago, I let myself into Emily’s room to find her sitting at her desk, mascara and tears staining her cheeks. I hugged her and helped her to the bed.
“Mom found the paperwork,” she whispered. “She found the paperwork from the women’s center in my backpack.”
I rubbed my face. Told my heart to stop pounding. “And?”
“She and Dad asked me to move out. They’re beyond pissed.”
“They want you to move out now?” I exclaimed. “We graduate in three days!”
“After I graduate.” She pointed at an ad for a studio apartment on her laptop screen. “I guess I won’t work at camp. I’ll go to Nashville early so I can make more money. It’s only three months until college starts.” Even if she didn’t have her parents’ support anymore, at least she had her scholarship.
I clutched the bedspread, not looking directly at her. Her parents kicking her out didn’t surprise me. They’re all about appearances. They’re the type of people who wear fancy clothes so people will think they’re rich, but behind the scenes they’re drowning in debt. Having a daughter pregnant out of wedlock would make them gossip fodder for our entire church.
“You can move in with us if you need to,” I said.
She nodded and the tears flowed down her cheeks again. I hugged Emily for the longest time. Then I chewed on my thumbnail.
“Stop biting your nail,” she said. Since she had come back from her symphony camp in D.C. last summer, she’d been bossy. I took my thumb out of my mouth.
“Can we pray together?” I asked quietly.
“Why?” Her eyebrows furrowed.
“I need to.”
Several heartbeats went by before she said quietly, “I can’t pray with you anymore.”
“Why?”
“I’ve told you. I don’t buy it. Any of it.”
I leaned over onto my knees. I didn’t understand what she was saying. All I knew was that I needed my friend and I needed to pray.
“For me?” I asked. “Please.”
“I don’t get why you need to pray. Nothing happened to you.” She folded her arms across her stomach and hunched over.
It didn’t just happen to her. It happened because she decided to sleep with Jacob. “That’s not true,” I said. “I sinned. I sinned to help you—”
She sniffled. “You didn’t sin.”
Why couldn’t she understand that I’d shoved aside everything I believe in, everything at the core of who I am, to help her? By taking her to the women’s center, by holding her hand while the doctor spoke to her, I gave up who I am. I gave up the relationship I had with God and openly defied Him to help her. I sat in the exam room while it happened.
I told her all of that.
Her face went red and her eyes glossed over.
“I’m just asking you to pray with me,” I said. “Please.”