Page 125 of Until Next Summer

“Okay, fine,” I say grudgingly, “but are you ready to get another puppy and do it all over again?”

He immediately grimaces. “No.”

“See? I put my heart and soul into this camp, especially this summer. So forgive me if I’m wary of letting myself care that much about anything—or anyone—ever again. I’m sorry to be so negative; that isn’t usually my style. But what’s the fucking point?”

Like in some of our previous conversations, Luke is unshaken by my emotional outburst. He runs his fingers gently through my still-damp hair before speaking again.

“You loveHadestown, right?”

I nod, surprised. The musical is a jazz-infused retelling of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice; after they fall in love, Eurydice ends up in the underworld, and when Orpheus tries to save her, he fails.

“In the opening number,” Luke says, “Hermes tells the audience that it’s a sad song. A tragedy. He repeats that at the end, too, after you’ve watched the entire tragic story unfold, right? But then he says—”

“We’re gonna sing it anyway,” I say, sighing. “Okay, I hear you. I always loved that message, going on a journey, even when youknowit won’t end well, simply because it’s worth taking. But facing it in real life?” Tears flood my eyes, and my throat constricts. “I fucking hate it, Luke.”

“I know. Same.” He pauses. “But in real life, we can’t know ahead of time how something will turn out. We don’t know if the book will sell, if the plan to save the camp will work…” His eyes dart toward me, then away. “Or if the relationship will last.”

“So what do we do?”

I’m not just asking about us—I’m asking about life.About starting over after losing everything I thought mattered.

“I think we ask ourselves if the journey is worth taking. And if the answer is yes…then we go for it.”

“Why?” My voice catches on a sob.

Beside me, Luke goes silent, like he’s wrestling with this as much as I am.

“This sounds trite,” he says finally, “but maybe it comes down to deciding what kind of people wewantto be. The kind who believe nothing is worth attempting if the outcome isn’t guaranteed?” He pauses. “Or the kind of people whotry?”

He’s right. I could have let Camp Chickawah close without a fight. But that’s not the kind of person I want to be. I hate what’s happening, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be fully myself again after losing this place, but I don’t regret trying.

Luke shifts so we’re inches apart, his gaze intense, searching my face. “You have every reason to be wary. So do I. But finding someone who makes me feel like this? It’s rare, Jess. So even if we have no idea how it’ll end—if we fall apart after a month, or if we spend the rest of our lives together—I think we shouldtry.”

I force myself to maintain eye contact, to let this penetrate all the way to my core. Dot’s words come back to me, how she hopes I’ll spread my wings, take some risks, find out what else I love besides camp.

“All right,” I say. “After I spend a few weeks with Hillary, I’ll come and stay with you.”

His face breaks into a smile like the sun, the kind of smile I tried to coax from him for weeks. Now he gives it to me effortlessly, wrapping his arms around me.

All the time I spent this summer trying to get him to smile, to laugh, to engage—none of it was wasted. If nothing else, it led us to this moment, to us holding each other as we open ourselves to the possibilities contained in all these endings.

Bitter, yes.

But also: oh, how sweet.

thirty-one

Hillary

It’s been three days since the last bus drove away. It was, by far, the hardest goodbye of the summer. Because this time, we don’t have another group of campers to look forward to. Tomorrow, or ever.

The sorrow is palpable; it feels like we’re sitting shiva. We might as well be wearing black. Cooper’s constantly trying to feed us, and we’re all walking around like shadows of our camp selves, going through the motions of closing up camp, but our hearts aren’t in it.

All of us except for Jessie. My best friend has been putting on a happy face along with her Camp Chickawah polo each morning, but I know it’s a coping mechanism. She even smiled through the goodbyes this morning: Zac and Zoey went back to California; Dot left to go visit Yvonne in Austin; Mr. Billy grumbled something about picking up trash on the beaches in Florida.

It might take a few weeks for the gravity of this loss to hit her, but when it does, I’ll be there. That’s part of the reason I invited her to come to Chicago. That, and it’s pretty much a dream come true. When I was a kid, I considered sneaking her into my duffel bag at the end of the summer. She was tall,but the bag was long. I daydreamed about her walking into my algebra class—school would have been so much more bearable with her by my side. I hope having me by hers now has helped make these final days less painful.

My next contract doesn’t start until after Labor Day, so I am more than happy to delay my return to Chicago. And not just because I’m also delaying the mother of all lectures from my dad. He sent me another email last week, expressing his disappointment in my decision to turn down Aaron’s proposal.

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