It was pouring. Hard. It sounded like bricks, dropping onto a metal roof, and our tent was fabric. But, I still had this urge to open the “window,” to let in fresh air. I lifted up the tent flap, rolled it loosely, and tied it against the frame of the room. It wasn’t sunny outside, even though it was noon. Clouds covered the sky spreading the sunlight from behind, evenly through the tent. My eyes wandered around the room. Three sets of wooden bunk beds, one single cot and five double shelved bedside tables for toiletries stared back at me. My tent mates were probably playing tag in their swimsuits or bouncing on the giant inflated inner tube, glistening with mountain rain. Camp songs sung by Junior counselors accompanied by someone playing the guitar, drifted into the cabin, circled the beds a few times then sneaked out, with me left with the melody in my head. I sighed and undid my hair from its messy ponytail and shook my head. Took a breath, then ducked out into the rain.
When I reached the main house, people were playing spoons, or Apples to Apples. Some were reading and singing along or playing B.S. with the camp Counselors. I slowly glided up the steps and then sat down in Emily’s lap. I had brought my brush. As she braided my hair I watched the campers jumping around in mud puddles that covered the grassy field. When the rain became quieter, they ran up to main house, for playing in occasional drops was no fun. Emily finished up my single French braid. I whispered a meager thank you. She squeezed my hand in response. I faded away, leaning into her chest, with her soft pale arms wrapped around me tight.