Page 12 of Summer's Echo
She stood there looking so innocent and devious at the same time as the last of the evening sun sparkled behind her. The counselors were finished for the day since the campers were watching a movie at the outdoor auditorium. Summer held up a paper bag with what I was hoping was food, a blanket, and an old boom box. I cocked my head in disbelief, immediately recognizing it was my boom box. I shook my head, unable to stop the grin from forming on my face because I knew exactly what this meant. She wanted to go to our hideaway. In just a few weeks, it had become our thing—sneaking off after dark when the campers were asleep and the counselors were distracted, probably off doing God only knows what. Our little nook tucked away near a man-made stream felt like another world, one where time didn’t exist and everything was simple. It was our escape.
“Mum, I gotta go,” I said hurriedly, cutting off the chaos on the other end of the line. “I love you, too.” Hanging up the phone, I jogged to catch up to Summer before she could disappear into the trees. “Sunshine, hold up.”
“I was about to leave you,” she said, turning to face me while she walked backward.
“Leaveme?” I said, pointing a finger to my chest for effect. “After going in my room to steal my radio?”
“You mean the radio you left inmy roomthe other night?” she countered, one brow lifted in challenge.
“Oh, right.” I’d forgotten I left it in there after our late-night Uno game with our friends. “Well, still sounds like theft to me,” I said, shrugging. The sound of the stream grew louder as we walked side by side, the soft crunch of leaves and twigs under our feet. I took her hand, steadying her as we navigated some rough terrain, moving deeper into the trees. Their overgrown branches and weathered trunks forged a trail through the thick grove, shielding our hideaway from the rest of the world.
Nestled at the tip of the campsite, a towering oak tree with aged branches boldly stood, reaching toward the sky. Ancient, it looked like it held secrets of campers from years past. We’d stumbled on this spot a few weeks ago during one of our treasure hunts with the Creative Crew. To most, this part of the camp was unremarkable, rarely frequented because to the blind eye, there’s nothing to see. But for me and Summer, it held purpose and beauty and magic. The tree’s trunk was wide and weathered, with a hollowed-out nook that seemed to be carved by the hands of time. The opening was just wide enough for the two of us—our sanctuary. While the space felt like a secret chamber just for us, the etchings of initials, dates, and tiny hearts carved into the bark were reminders that this place had been others’ secret long ago.
A hedge of wild ferns and moss-covered stones shielded us from the world but didn’t conceal the beauty of the rolling green pastures and breathtaking views that stretched across the campgrounds. Summer spread out the blanket and sat cross-legged just as she’d done every time before. I settled beside her, flipping through the CDs to find some music to listen to. She unpacked the goodie bag, laying out turkey croissant sandwiches, potato chips, apple juice, and candy—a feast for only two. She leaned over me to grab the boom box and placed it between us. I shook my head. As usual, she took control of the music, already humming along to the first few notes. Clearly unimpressed with the current song, she jabbed the button to skip to the next track.
A smooth R&B groove filled the air, the familiar beat instantly recognizable.
“I tell him to kick offyour shoes and relax,”she sang along, swaying to the rhythm.
“Who sings this one?” I asked, cracking open the apple juice and leaning back. Summer gave me a pointed look. “Xscape,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Exactly. Let them sing it, then,” I shot back, laughing so hard I nearly choked on my juice.
Her expression hardened, but the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement. Animatedly, she raised her middle finger, and whispered, “Fuck you,” though her voice carried more mischief than malice.
“You love nineties music,” I said, wiping my mouth after biting into the sandwich.
“Why do you say that?” she challenged.
“Because every time I’m in your room or hear you singing in the art center, it’s always old-school Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston,” I pointed out.
Summer let out a delighted breath, lighting up as she nodded in agreement. “The perks of having older siblings, I guess.”
“How much older?” I asked, leaning forward slightly, genuinely curious.
“My brother is twenty-seven, and I have two sisters—twenty-three and twenty-one,” she said, shrugging.
“Ah, so you’re the baby. No surprise,” I teased, a chuckle escaping as I saw her roll her eyes.
“Whatever.” She playfully swatted at me. “What about you? Oldest, right?”
I nodded proudly. “Yep. Two sisters, two brothers—fifteen, thirteen, nine, and eight.”
Summer let out a low whistle, shaking her head. “Whew.God bless your mom.”
A warmth spread through me at the thought of my mother. “Yeah, my mum holds it down though.”
Her head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Mum?” she repeated, her voice piqued with interest.
I nodded again, this time more thoughtfully. “My parents are from Nigeria. I was born there, but we moved to the States when I was just weeks old. In my family, it’s tradition to call your mothermum. It’s a sign of respect.”
“That’s sweet,” she murmured, almost adoring, as if my words had touched her. The conversation faded, replaced by a hush that wasn’t awkward but peaceful, like the stillness was a part of the agreement when at this place. We both leaned back, taking in the sky’s expanse. I don’t know why the quiet felt so easy with her, but I wasn’t going to question it. Everything was moving so fast. Camp was going to be over before we knew it, but in this moment, everything was paused, and I didn’t mind at all because the more time I had with Summer, the better.
“Do you have a boyfriend back home?” I blurted, breaking the quiet and immediately regretting it.
Summer’s head snapped toward me, her brow arching in surprise. She shook her head. “Nope,” she said simply, turning her focus back on the stars like I’d asked the dumbest question in the world.
My brow furrowed at her nonchalant tone. “Why’d you say it like that?”
