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That One Time

Page 165

by Sybil Knight

“Everyone smile!” I wrapped an arm around Mason, and he leaned into me.

Someone yelled, “Trevor!”

“Actually…” I looked towards the photographer. “This next one’s for Trevor.”

The mood shifted. Not sad. Something better. The kids straightened. Several shouted his name. Someone made a heart with their hands. Mason’s face softened. I looked towards those four boys. None of them were smiling. In fact, they looked constipated. Excellent.

“Big smiles,” I said.

Brandon glared at me. I smiled right back at him. And the camera flashed. Once. Twice. Three times.

Then the photographer checked the screen. “That’s a good one.”

“Perfect,” I said.

I stepped forward and looked at it. Everybody crowded together. Laughing. Ridiculous. Alive. And there in the front row sat four boys in dresses, looking like they wanted the earth to split open beneath them.

I felt no guilt. Maybe that made me an awful person. I could live with being awful, and they could survive chiffon.

“Can I get a copy?” Mason asked.

“Everybody’s getting one.”

Kyle looked sharply at me. “What?”

I turned. “Oh, yeah.” I raised my voice. “Since camp is almost over, we’re mailing copies home to everybody’s families.”

Chaos erupted. Kids yelled. Some cheered. Some immediately complained about how stupid they looked.

I continued over them. “And obviously I’m sending one to Trevor at the hospital.”

Brandon went white. Actually white. I watched the blood drain from his face. He understood exactly what I was doing. So did Kyle and Billy. Ethan stared at the ground. Darius stared at me.

I handed the camera back to the photographer with a nod. “Memories are important.”

Brandon pushed through the crowd. Kyle followed. Ethan behind him. And Billy glared at me the whole time as he stalked off. Nobody stopped them. I watched the little fucks disappear towards the cabins.

Mason stepped beside me. “That was fucked up.”

“Was it?” I asked him.

“A little,” he said.

“Did you enjoy it?”

He was quiet. Then he smiled. “A little.”

“See?”

He bumped my shoulder. “Trevor is going to fucking frame it.”

That made me laugh. Actually laugh. First time in three days. I swallowed the sound. “He better.”

Mason walked towards the others. I stayed behind.

Darius hadn’t moved. He stood maybe ten feet away. Watching me. And I hated the look on his face. Understanding. Concern. Something softer. I turned away.

“Alvin,” he said for the millionth time. I stopped. Didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry.”