Driving toward the main gates of the camp feels incredibly surreal. The Berkshires are beautiful, and the towns here are so quaint and sweet. But this camp—it’s something else, like an entirely different world. I didn’t think feeling as excited, anxious, and utterly terrified as I feel right now was possible. I spent my entire life dreaming about spending my summer at this specific camp.
When I was incredibly young, every time Sofia would leave for her trip, I would throw what I would now describe as a simple temper tantrum, but my mother would so lovingly describe it as a possession. In hindsight, as an adult, I’m completely mortified. She thought I was just being dramatic, but it was heartbreaking for me. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go with Sofia, and it was my mother’s fault. As I grew up, when I was finally exposed to more American movies and stumbled uponThe Parent Trap, my obsession with attending camp only grew. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized it was because my family couldn’t afford it, which made me angry, knowing I missed out on summer camp because of something out of my control. As I grew up, I started telling Sofia that I had plans for the summer so we wouldn’t appear so poor anymore, and once she left, I’d lock myself in my room for a few days and cry. I didn’t want my parents to feel guilty that they couldn’t afford it, but I couldn’t stop yearning for it. Now, here I am, slowly driving through the gates. With Valentina at the wheel, no less.
I first notice the obnoxiously showy decorations on either side. Large vases hold an assortment of tall white flowers and greenery. Garlands of ivy are wrapped around the top of the gates. On one side is a sign on top of a gold easel with a floral arrangement in whites, creams, and soft light greens cascading down. The word “WELCOME” is hand-painted in a bold, white cursive font, with the names “Sofia” and “Luciano” printed below it.
“This is so bougie.” Maria chuckles, whipping out her phone to snap photos.
“Oh, it gets worse,” Valentina groans. “I don’t understand why she needs to have this extravagant performance of a wedding.”
“What do you mean?” Maria asks.
“I just think it’s too much. If it were me, it’d be different.”
The gates open slowly, and it appears we’ve stepped inside a movie set. I can’t help but gasp audibly.
Valentina laughs. “Yeah, I know.”
I look up through the windshield to see a canopy of lights going down to the end of the driveway, creating a magical tunnel. White tulle draperies are strung across the trees, almost mimicking a fence. White rose petals cover the ground that tires have half trampled but still look beautiful.
“This is ridiculous,” I finally say.
“Yeah, the circus only gets worse. This part ends at the check-in, thankfully. We’ll be there in a few minutes. For now, enjoy the view, I guess.”
“Can you believe it’s been ten years?” Maria says. “It’s so nice to catch up with friends and family again, right, Isa?”
“Well, you know we’re not friends.” Valentina chuckles. The sound is light, but there’s something about it that makes me pause. Maybe she’s nervous? Or just playing along? I can’t tell if she’s joking or if the laugh is covering something else.
“Whaaat?You and Isa? I can’t even believe it,” Maria says sarcastically.
“Maria, if you don’t shut your face,” I bark.
“Yeah, no. Isa hates me, actually,” Valentina interrupts.
“Is that so?” Maria asks aloud, annoying me further.
“With good reason,” I add, staring out the window, trying to get distracted by the dizzy tulle garland that sways up and down as we drive past it.
Valentina snorts. “Hardly.”
I snap my head so quickly toward her I’m surprised it doesn’t spin all the way around my head,The Exorciststyle.
“You ruined my fucking dress, Valentina. And embarrassed me in front of the whole family at our quinceañera!” I finally shout.
“This is the best day of my life,” Maria whispers.
“Iaccidentallytripped and fell. I didn’t mean to grab your dress and rip it. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“First of all—” I shout again, my voice rising louder than I intend. Valentina rolls her eyes, and for a second, I catch a flicker of something—frustration, maybe, or something deeper.
“Oh, boy—” Valentina groans, cutting me off before I can say anything else, as if we’ve done this a hundred times before.
“We were in the middle of our choreographed number,” I say to Maria specifically, as if she wasn’t there at the party and didn’t witness the whole incident go down in person. “There was no reason for her to even be near me at that part of the dance.”
“Okay.” Valentina snorts, that halfhearted laugh she does when she doesn’t want to admit she’s wrong. Or maybe she’s just tired of this argument, too.
“Second of all, there was nothing to trip on. She just randomly fell and ruined my fucking dress.” My voice cracks, the memory still as sharp as it was that night. “The dress that cost my parents a lot of money.”
I don’t say the rest—that the dress was never really mine, not in the same way things were for Valentina and my cousin. They were the ones who were supposed to be celebrated that night, the ones who had everything. And me? I was just there, tacked on, like an afterthought. But that dress…it was the one thing that made me feel like I belonged. Until it was ruined.
