“Hey, Lauren?” a familiar deep voice called behind me. Tucker was standing there, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you have a minute?”
“Um, sure? I just need to get a hotdog first.”
“I thought you were a vegetarian.”
“I’m a flexitarian. I go through phases. Apparently I eat hotdogs now.”
“Okay…”
Grabbing my dog and drenching it in mustard, I headed out with Tucker.
“Be right back,” I said to June and Hailey.
Tucker and I walked down the shoreline until we were too far for eavesdroppers.
“What’s up?” If he was just here to ream me about hanging out with Carter, he was going down.
“I just . . . I wanted to clear the air between us. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and praying, and I know we’re not exactly friends anymore, but I don’t want you thinking I have any hard feelings toward you.”
“Oh . . . okay?”
“I’m apologizing, in case that wasn’t clear. I know I’ve been kind of harsh with you because of the way everything went down between us, but I was wrong and . . . I’m sorry.”
“Wait. You’re serious?”
He lifted a dark brow and nodded again, his honest brown eyes searching mine. He’d had some jerky moments since we broke up, but I’d dumped him for Ren, when he was hurting.
“Are we cool?” he asked, back to rubbing his neck.
He was too nice. I knew that when we started dating last summer. I knew I’d ruin us before we ever had a chance, and I did. But, I didn’t think he’d ever want to be friends again. “Totally. And, Tucker, I’m sorry too.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and stuck his thumb over his shoulder. “I told Carter I’d be a few minutes. Cory’s around the corner with some extra poles.”
I grinned, feeling a little more free. “Have fun.”
“You too.”
Night fell, and a bonfire raged in the pit back at camp. We were all sitting around, talking about our own experiences here when we were campers. I’d been sandwiched between June and Hailey for most of the day. At first, it was uncomfortable, but after a while, their presence was refreshing. My closest friend left camp last month, and for the first time in my life, I became an actual loner. Today was changing that for me, though.
“Can you even remember?” Tucker asked. “No bills. No worries. Just being kids.”
“It was like heaven,” Hailey said.
Cory gave an agreeing, “Mmm.”
Carter’s lips curled in a goofy smile I hadn’t seen before. “Remember your first time on the zip, Tuck?”
“Not going there, bro.”
“You screamed like a girl the whole way down, man.”
“I don’t do big heights.”
Everybody laughed, including me. Wow. It felt so good.
“Did you come as a camper?” June asked me.
“Four years in a row,” I said.
Freedom. That’s what I remembered most. A week away from the chaos at home. Even then I’d loved it up here.
“I wasn’t like you probably were though, June.”
“Like what?”
“You know—you could probably cast the first stone at me.”
“Are you calling me a goody-goody?” June laughed.
“Maybe?” Yes.
“You couldn’t have been that bad.”
“I was totally boy crazy.”
“Who wasn’t?” She rolled her eyes. “The hormones are ridiculous at that age. Have you seen the girls this year? Dramatics are through the roof.”
I grinned, rubbing the dust off my ankle. “Dramatics are through the roof with any group of girls you pin together in a room for a week.”
“Truth,” Hailey said. “Bridgeport was magical as a camper, though.”
June’s boyfriend, Philly, strummed the beginning to a song from last year and started singing, everyone around the fire joining in on the second line.
Once lost, now found.
Once hidden, now seen.
Once broken, now whole.
Once stained, now clean.
June nudged me with her elbow and smiled. “Come on, roomie. I know you can sing.”
My cheeks flamed.
“I’ve heard you in the shower, girl. You have such a beautiful, soulful voice.”
I didn’t make a habit of letting that fact out. I could sing. Mom made me take lessons my whole childhood as part of her whole perfection campaign. I hadn’t sung in public since before senior year in high school though.
June was still staring. Hailey did too, whispering in June’s ear.
Oh my gosh, how awkward could this get?
Help. I needed help out of it.
Carter could help! All I’d have to do is give him an it’s happening look. But maybe I wanted more than just his help. I wanted to feel the way I’d felt after I called Ren the other night. When Carter’s arms were around me, when his words soothed my doubts.
I searched for him in the group, ready to go cuddle up next to him and sing together, if he was cool to, but he wasn’t here anymore. My instinct said to go and find him, but then, I remembered what he’d said on the camp walk. “I think there’s hope for people like us . . . maybe it’s time to lean on Him more.”
The voices raised together in song were soothing in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time. I swallowed, my heart racing as I closed my eyes and envisioned the meaning of the words sung around me. I parted my lips and joined in on the chorus, holding my tears in check, trying to believe what Carter had said.
That there really was still hope for a girl like me.
Help me believe it if it’s true, God.
Thirteen
-CARTER-
“So, how’s life been since I saw you last?” Pastor Gregg asked me as we walked the main path through camp on Monday evening. He’d said moving was better than sitting sometimes when it comes to talking about the hard stuff. I wasn’t sure anything would make it easier. After Saturday night and Sunday morning, I definitely knew I wasn’t capable of making it through worship songs again yet.
“It’s going, sir.”
“And, the anxiety? How’s that been? Having any trouble?”
“Sometimes. It comes and goes.”
“Glad to hear it. So, what’s your prayer life been like over the past few
