He glances quickly, and his expression goes melty. “Cute little glow worm. We aren’t letting her date until she’s thirty, right?”
“Goodness. I pity the boy that hurts her. She reads murder mysteries. She probably knows a lot of ways to dispose of a body.”
“She won’t have to if I hear about it first.”
“Way to squeeze my heart there, Moose.”
Chapter 25
Independence Day
We use my phone’s GPS after the infamous breakup text was sent, so I try not to look at it again. It’s currently telling us to turn down a gravel driveway. Soon, we enter the wooded camp area with an open gate welcoming us in.
The gravel trail winds through trees until we reach a clearing that has a covered stage with a few steps on either side and a “Farewell Unity Athletes” banner across the front. Sam finds a place to park, and we begin to unload his car that’s stuffed like Mary Poppins herself packed it.
A couple who appear to be in their late thirties greet us and show us what we have to work with. There’s an all-weather PA system with mics, and since they’re only expecting a hundred to stay, we should have plenty of power for a group this size.
Luis and Carla are great, helping us unload and showing us where to find restrooms and a cooler full of ice and bottled water. Carla lights up when she tells us about the camp and their team-building exercises and athletic training.
It looks fun, other than the athletic torture part, with several cabins at the end of different trails that are well-marked andlit for nighttime hide-and-seek and capture-the-flag games. Alex went to church camp every summer and loved it. I couldn’t have been away from my responsibilities that long anyway, but I need the freedom to shut down and be alone, so a twenty-four-hour schedule that doesn’t allow me to hide in a book sounds awful.
Carla and I bring the stands for the keyboard and guitars up from the back seat as Sammy strategically places mics, amps, pedals, and all the things I know nothing about while discussing the sound configuration he wants with Luis.
I should’ve started the day in a T-shirt and shorts, because I’m already sweating as we go up and down the steps.
Clinical strength deodorant and sandals are my refuge. There’s a large fan on the right side, so I stand there for a minute to cool off while Carla walks away to take a call. I pull my phone from my pocket, wondering if it’s a bad idea to look even as I do it.
We blocked Nathan’s number, but it’s just a matter of time before someone in his family lets him use their phone. I like Sarah and Jackson. Hopefully they’ll understand why I had to end things the way I did.
Jace and Annie have been messaging in our group, but I see Jude has texted me separately.
Jude Daniel (Take a Sad Song and Make it Sexy) Crawford: I think my heart stopped. Glad I wasn’t driving.
The picture hasn’t loaded. I can read the message, but I can’t see what he’s talking about. The signal isn’t great out here. It’ll come through eventually, but it could be anything. A meme, apretty guitar, an injury … did something happen? Ugh, this man. He probably went over his word quota talking to me yesterday.
Me:I can’t see the pic. Are you okay?
Jude Daniel (Take a Sad Song and Make it Sexy) Crawford:I’m good, Lu. Video if you can.
Me:Still focused on not puking, but I’ll try.
“Get off the phone, slacker!” Sam calls out, testing the mic, causing me to jump at his volume. His wild, unhinged cackle is my warning. The lid will be coming off the crazy any minute.
“You promised me your best behavior, Moose.”
“I always give my best, Squirrely.”
I begin my own terrible little concert to soundcheck each instrument. If he wasn’t completely convinced of how little I know, he is now.
“Come over here and test these mics. I’m going to listen from the field and be sure I can hear you.”
There’s a reason he’s only worried about hearingme. He’s loud.So loud. There has never been a time I couldn’t hear him, mic’d or not.
He starts playing a game we made up calledRequesto-Rando. He yells a word, and I associate it with a song until he stumps me. I get through a color, weather, and a vehicle before he thumbs-down “Crazy Train,” so I give him a rapid-fire sample of “Pink Cadillac,” “Build a Boat,” and “Fast Car,” all a cappella.
“I can do this all day long in multiple genres and eras, so you might as well give it to me, Moose Boy!”
“Okay, gimme a holiday smart-aaaaaa-angel bestie.”
