“Get them out of here,” Olga says. She pushes her way up behind me. “I don’t care who they are, we will not tolerate this sort of behavior. The police are on their way.”
The coaches detaining the strangers nod, then begin dragging the still-yelling boys toward the exit. The crowd parts away from them as they go.
“And you,” Olga says, turning to us. I’ve always been a little intimidated by her, but she’s never been this imposing. “What happened here?”
“They started it,” Tyler pants. His arm is over Kevin’s shoulders—I can’t tell who is holding up who.
Kevin continues. “Just came up behind us and started punching.”
“Are you hurt?” Olga asks.
Both boys shake their heads. Tyler manages a weak smile. “Should have known better than to mess with us. We’d have had them if they hadn’t caught us by surprise.”
“We don’t condone violence here,” Olga says. Then her voice softens. “But I’m glad you’re okay. Leena? Take them to the nurse’s station. Make sure they’re fit to perform tomorrow. The rest of you, back to the dance.”
Leena strides up and puts a comforting hand on each boy’s shoulder. “Come on,” she whispers, and begins to guide them away. Riley and I follow, Sandy at our heels.
As we pass through the crowd, I catch sight of Branden. His chest is heaving, and there’s a bruise just beginning to form over his right eye. The look he gives me is filled with a thousand different emotions I can’t begin to decipher. His lips mouth something.
It almost looks like I’m sorry.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
We spend the rest of the night with Tyler and Kevin in the nurse’s station. Once Leena makes sure there’s nothing wrong with the boys—like Tyler repeatedly says, the other guys didn’t stand a chance—she leaves and brings us back a few tubs of ice cream.
“They were supposed to be for the dance,” she says. “But I think you guys more than deserve it.” Then she says she has to keep chaperoning, and that we can stay here until sign-in.
“Are you guys okay?” I ask the moment Leena’s gone.
Tyler shrugs. “They didn’t get a punch in.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Kevin sighs and leans in to Tyler. They’re both sitting on the bed, sharing a pint of ice cream between them. “Nothing I haven’t heard before,” he says. “Sometimes that’s the price of being yourself.”
“I hate it,” Riley mutters.
“Me too,” Tyler says. “But the only way to change it is to challenge it.”
And that’s when I realize: They go through this every day. If they want to be themselves, they have to put up with bullying and abuse, both verbal and physical. The idea of it makes my blood boil and heart sink. Suddenly my problems seem insignificant.
“You’re incredibly brave,” I say. I don’t mean to speak, but the words come out anyway.
“Thanks, love,” Tyler says. He smiles, and when he speaks his tone is lighter. “You were pretty brave yourself, jumping in there like some warrior woman.”
Kevin smiles as well. “Right? It’s lucky the coaches jumped in when they did. You might have killed those guys.”
“Given the chance,” Riley mutters from the bench. Sandy pats her head.
“Calm down, warrior pixie,” he says. “Violence is never the answer. Ice cream, on the other hand, is always the answer.”
“Are you patronizing me?” she asks. There’s no real anger in her voice.
“Um, no? Ice cream is the great equalizer. Unless you’re lactose intolerant.”
Riley just giggles and snuggles into him.
Even though I’m the fifth wheel, I don’t feel awkward sitting on the chair alone. Being in this room with these people feels like being with family. All of us united because we’re different, because at any moment life can throw a curveball.
Tears form in my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Kevin asks. “You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?”
I sniff and smile. “No. It’s just . . . you guys are probably the best friends I’ve ever had.”
The words aren’t enough to express the weight of it, the knowledge that if I ever needed something, they’d be there, and vice versa. Olga had said we’d grow to trust one another over the course of the camp, but I didn’t know the full extent of it. I’d trust these guys with my life. And in many ways, being in a show with them, I already do. It’s the most humbling and heartening thing I’ve ever felt.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Riley says. “Now, less weepy, more ice creamy. You’re smudging my masterpiece.”
• • •
Leena comes back an hour or so later, right before sign-in. We spent the rest of our time in the office telling stories and figuring out our next big reunion. Which, if things go as hoped, will be in a few weeks.
“Who were they?” asks Tyler when Leena steps in.
“Just some guys from town,” she says. “Thought they’d crash the party. Probably didn’t think they’d be taken home in cop cars.”
“Serves them right,” Riley says. Sandy nudges her.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Leena says, looking at Tyler and Kevin, “but we called your parents to let them know what happened. Well, we just told them that some guys came in and started a fight with you. We didn’t give the specifics, just in case . . .”
“They know,” Tyler says.
“Mine too,” Kevin adds.
“Okay, well, we wanted to be on the safe side.” She looks around the room. “Anyway, it’s bedtime. Big day tomorrow.”
And just like that, the final night at camp comes to a close. We head out of the room in silence, toward the dorms, following Leena. Tyler and Kevin are holding hands in some quiet show of resilience. Sandy has his arm looped around Riley’s shoulder, and her hand is in mine. She squeezes my fingers like she, too, knows the emotional weight of this. When Leena tells Sandy he needs to head home, he kisses Riley on the top of the head and leaves, promising he’ll be there front and center for the show tomorrow. For some reason, this just makes my heart drop a little more; Mom and Dad will be there for the show, sure. But I don’t have anyone special coming to see me—no friends or boyfriend. Even as the four of us walk down the hall together, I can’t shake the feeling of being alone.
The boys give us hugs good night, and then Riley and I head up to our room. No one else is mingling in the halls. I’ve no clue if the dance is still going on or if we’re just getting back late. Something tells me it’s the latter. We don’t speak as we scrub off our makeup and change into pajamas. My brain is racing the entire time; I’m more nervous about going to sleep and saying good-bye to this than I was coming here. And that’s saying something.
It’s not until we’re both in bed and the lights are off that Riley speaks.
“Well,” she says, almost to herself. “That was an eventful night.”
I don’t respond; I keep my eyes closed as I relive the night. I hear her turn over in bed.
“You okay?” she asks.
Again, I don’t respond.
“Is this about Luke?” she asks. Her voice goes softer; she knows this isn’t a subject I want to discuss.
“Yes and no,” I say. “I just . . . I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I fell for it again. But it’s not a big deal, not compared to what Tyler and Kevin went through. So that just makes me feel even worse.”
“You can’t do that to yourself. You’re allowed to feel hurt at what Luke did to you, no matter what’s going on in anyone else’s life.”
I shrug.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “After tomorrow I won’t see Luke ever again.”
Riley goes silent for a moment.