Page 96 of Until Next Summer

“Yes!” Kat says. She’s somehow managed to look both chic and ready for a day of fun at camp: jeans with strategically ripped holes at the knees, a white crop top with a white button-down shirt open over it, and a tan bolero hat. “I shared a teaser in my stories yesterday, and I’ll be posting content about my camping experience all week.”

“That’s incredible,” I say.

Kat brushes it off like it’s no big deal, even though her connections could single-handedly save the camp. “I already have a link to the fundraising page in my bio—but the talent show is the real draw. I’m picturing one of those old-school telethons, where we’ll talk about the camp and encourage donations between acts. And the whole thing will be live streamed!”

I wince. “But the Internet—”

“—won’t be a problem,” Kat says. “My brother-in-law Noah is into all that tech stuff—he brought equipment to boost the signal. He’s not concerned, so neither am I.”

I glance at Jessie, who shrugs before turning to Kat. “And you’re sure we can’t pay you?”

“The goal is to make you money, not for you to spend it. This is important to me—if it weren’t for Camp Chickawah, I wouldn’t have met my sister.” She pauses and clears her throat, then smiles her bright smile before continuing. “The only thing I want is a slot in the talent show—Blake and I have been waiting sixteen years to perform our lip-sync routine.”

I nod, remembering that summer when we were twelve. Kat had to leave the day before the talent show because her grandfather had passed away. The news was an unwelcome intrusion into our camp bubble, a reminder that life was going on back home and something bad might happen at any moment.

Come to think of it, that week was the second time Lola allowed me into the office to call my dad. She knew I was rattled and needed to hear his voice.

A familiar sense of panic stirs in my chest, and I make a mental note to come back to Jessie’s office later to give my father a call. He won’t be happy I ended things with Aaron, but hopefully he’ll be proud of what I’m doing for the camp. Using my business acumen to save a place that’s not only special to me, but was special to my mom, too. That’s got to mean something.

“I’m telling you, everyone’s going to know about this talent show!” Kat is saying.

I gulp.Everyone?The last thing we want is for the Valentines to get wind of our plan before we’re able to tell them about it.

“We might want to block one or two people,” I say.

“Sure thing,” Kat says, tapping her phone to life. “Do you know their handles?”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re rolling on the floor, laughing. We found and blocked Mary, no problem. Her Instagram account isn’t active; her last post was from two summers ago.

But Jack? Apparently the one thing he loves more than money is dollhouses.

His feed is full of them. Ginormous ones. Small vintage ones. Empty ones, and ones with rooms full of teeny tiny furniture. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life, and I’m pretty sure Jessie peed her pants a little.

It felt good to laugh. Almost as good as it feels to have a solid plan to save our camp.

twenty-four

Jessie

The dining hall is abuzz with conversation as everyone gathers for the talent show. This is one of my favorite events of the summer—and tonight it feels extra special. We’re so close to saving the camp.

Jack and Mary are doing a site visit and inspection with the new buyer on Monday. It’s the perfect opportunity for me to explain our co-op plan. This morning, I sent the Valentines an email, inviting them to join me and our staff for dinner the night before the site visit, and Jack accepted.

Now I step out onstage, my nerves kicking into high gear. I’ve gotten used to being in front of a crowd of adult campers, but tonight a few thousand more are watching online.

“Welcome, everyone!” I say into the microphone. The audience applauds and whistles. “I’m thrilled to have so many people gathered for our talent show—in person and virtually. It’s a joint effort by all the campers this week, but I want to give a special shout-out to Kat Steiner and Noah Rooney for all the help getting this online.”

More whistling and cheering. Blake and Kat are in the front row with their husbands, and Blake shoves Kat to herfeet so she can take a bow. Beside Blake, Noah lifts a hand and waves.

“Before we start,” I go on, “I want to remind everyone what we’re raising money for tonight. We’re hoping to purchase the camp and keep it going for generations to come. Please check out our website for information on how to pledge money or otherwise support our cause. The response has been incredible, and we’re close to reaching our goal!”

I scan the audience and realize with a start that I’m looking for Luke. We haven’t talked since our confrontation the other day—I’m not avoiding him, exactly, but I’m kind of…embarrassed, I guess. By all of it. His rejection, my overreaction.

When I can’t find him in the audience, my heart sinks.

I miss him.I didn’t realize how much until this exact moment.

It would be one thing if I could brush him off as an asshole, but he’s not—the other day, I watched him play “fetch” with Scout by throwing a stick into the lake, carrying her into the water to help her get the stick in her mouth, then carrying her back to shore, over and over again. His back must have been aching. It was the sweetest, saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

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