Rushed(4)

Tyler catches up with me, walking next to me on the trail. Summer camp is supposed to be full of outdoor adventures, but so far, the majority of it has been 'nature walks,' and not a lot else. I guess I can't complain. I mean, this whole thing is being paid for by my grandparents while Daddy goes through another round of chemo. The doctors say that they're sure they're going to get it this time, and he'll be cancer free. I hope so, his hair is all gone, and without it, he looks sad all the time. I want to see that black brush cut again, and not the coppery dome he's currently sporting.

"Come on, you know I'm just joking," he says, taking my hand. We stop on the trail, and I'm caught up in his cute face. Unlike all the other boys in the camp, he's already starting to mature, his cheeks losing the chubbiness that almost everyone else still has. "I just think it's really cool that you're part Indian."

"First Nations, Tyler. I prefer the term First Nations," I remind him, but still I smile a little. He may ask all sorts of questions that make him look ignorant, but there's nothing in them that makes me think he's trying to be a jerk or anything, and he's kinda cool to hang out with, for a boy. Actually, he's really cool to hang out with, which is why I like talking to him so much. "I don't wear a sari, and there's no dot on my forehead."

Tyler smirks and taps me in the forehead with a dusty finger. "Now you do."

I push him away, laughing despite myself. He's just so cute, darn it! "Your mouth is going to get you into trouble some day."

"Maybe," he answers as we start walking again. As long as we stay between the two camp counselors, high school students who are working this for a summer job, we're free to go our own pace, which I think is best right in the middle. We’re away from the kids up front who want to treat the walks like some sort of workout and the guys who are gawking at the lead counselor Missy, who likes to wear tight khaki short-shorts, and the group of kids in the back, who are either struggling to keep up, or just want to bring up the rear. In the middle you get privacy, and a chance to just enjoy yourself.

"Maybe?" I tease. "Tyler, you've already got like . . . five people here who hate you."

"Not worried about them," Tyler says with a chuckle. "I'm worried about what you think of me."

I feel fresh heat on my neck, and I know it's not because of the summer sun, most of this trail is shaded before we reach the beach. "I'm still thinking."

Tyler gives me a look, and I can see that he's anxious, not the cool collected guy he is with everyone else. "Really? Because, like, the camp barbecue is tomorrow, you know."

I know, I know. And as a big part of it, the counselors are insisting that everyone have a 'date' for the party. Something about social skills or something. But I've never been good with social skills, even back home in Canada. I hang out with my friends and play some basketball, that's it. I'm not one of the cool kids, and I certainly never hang out with the Cutie-Pies or the Princesses. And now the cutest guy in camp is telling me he wants me to be his date for the barbecue. Why?

"I know Tyler, but . . . well, why me? I'm not exactly pretty like Gina Hernandez is. She's already got boobs."

“No one cares about Gina,” Tyler replies with a look on his face and I have to agree. Gina’s not the nicest girl, but I don't mind her that much, she just doesn't know when to drop a joke. “I’m asking you because you're kinda cool to talk to, you know, for a girl."

"You just like the fact I can start a fire without matches," I reply, thinking back to both the good and bad of that. It was fun, but once it became public knowledge that I'm part First Nations, the jokes started. I really don't like the jokes. In Canada, so many people are at least part First Nations that we don't even think about it, but here in California, it's enough of a difference that somebody felt it was worth a joke, and everyone else ran with it. Tyler's the only person though that makes the jokes not feel bad, though, which is why I don't mind them from him.

"Actually, I liked the fact that you're like, the only girl who isn't afraid to go out and body board in the surf. I know the water here is colder than San Diego, but I love it too much. You get out there right with me."

"It's why I'm wearing my swimsuit underneath," I reply, showing him the strap of my suit. "You know, us girls can't just jump in the ocean in our shorts and a t-shirt like the guys."

"I don't wear my t-shirt," Tyler counters, showing off his arms. He's nearly as tan as I am, a deep sun-kissed chestnut brown, and he's already got muscles. A strange tingle goes through me whenever he takes off his shirt, like chocolate and batteries.

"I've noticed," I say, accepting it instead of trying to force out all the weird stuff in my head, and point ahead. "We're nearly there."

Tyler takes my hand again and pulls me to a stop. "So . . . will you go with me to the barbecue?"

I'm not sure why my head is moving, but suddenly I'm nodding, and Tyler's smile makes it cool. "Great. Come on, I'll race you to the beach."

Tyler takes off up the path, and I'm laughing, chasing after him as we jump over the tree roots and little rocks. There's no way that I can catch him. I'm out of breath when I finally catch up to him on the sand, and I see he's already stripped off his tank top. Chocolate and batteries, chocolate and batteries . . .