Chapter Fourteen
Iknew today was going to be a bad day.
The thought simmers in my brain as I fold my arms and glare at the same camp counselor who sent me away from the basket weaving activity the other day. I should have just walked away from this beach activity as soon as I saw that she was the one running it, but I was looking forward to playing in the sand with some of the other Middles. It promised to be a bit more involved than the Littles sandcastle building activity, but from the moment I walked up, Counselor Becky made sure I knew she was keeping an eye on me.
It’s been making it difficult to get into headspace properly, or to enjoy myself at all.
And now I’ve been put in time-out without any real reason, which has only just frustrated me more.
I kind of want to watch the world burn at this point, and not in a fun bratty way.
“I’m out of headspace,” I tell her calmly, even as an impotent rage bubbles away under my skin, “so I’m just going to pack upand—”
“You’re going to be quiet and finish your time-out.”
I blink at her. “Excuse me?”
“Look, we both know that you’ll say anything to get out of the consequences of your own actions, so—”
“Becky,sweetie, listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I. Am. Out. Of. Headspace.” I enunciate patronizingly, enjoying the puce-colored flush traveling up her neck and to the tips of her ears. “I’m an adult who has paid to be here for relaxation and kink purposes. And right now I’m not satisfying either of those things. So, I’m going to leave this activity.”
Mimicking my stance with her own folded arms, she insists, “Afteryou finish time-out.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”
“I’m the caregiver in charge.”
I cast a glance at a nearby couple —a Middle named Davey who seems quiet and sweet, and his Mommy— and ask, “Is she for real right now?”
“That’s it,” Becky points towards the grass on the other side of the short stretch of sand from where we’re gathered near the water’s edge, “get out. You’re not welcome in any of my activities anymore.”
There are a few gasps and murmurs from the gathered group, but I don’t think they’re muttering about me this time. If anything, I would say they’re surprised that a camp counselor (who is supposed to be a Caregiver) would say such a thing to a camper, regardless of headspace.
“Fine by me,” I reply lightly, mostly because I know my dismissive tone will only piss her off more.
Inside, I’m raging, and I’m also a little bit sad, despite having no desire to be in one of her groups again. It still kind of hurts to be castout, especially so publicly. It hits a little too close to home, getting me in the soft, vulnerable part that just wants to feel included sometimes.
And, even though I don’t think anyone else agrees with her this time, I feel embarrassed all over again.
Trudging back over the sand, onto the grass and towards the path which leads up to the main campground, I wonder if it’s even worth staying any longer. Sure, I’ve had some fun with Kris, and I kind of made friends with Tess, but it’s pretty clear nobody else wants me around.
Nobody ever does.
I’m good for a fun time, not a long time, and I know when I’ve outstayed my welcome.
Chapter Fifteen
Another day without seeing Benji has me almost crawling out of my skin. I should have pulled up my Daddy pants and gone to talk to him last night, but I didn’t want to come off too strong or too clingy, especially because part of what I want to talk to him about is how he feels about keeping in touch, maybe occasionally meeting up for some Daddy/Boy play, depending on where he lives and how easy it is to organize. I guess I didn’t want my actions to clash with the vibe of the question itself.
But now, as I scan the mess hall, I can’t see his pretty blond head anywhere in the sea of dining campers. Everyone is talking, the sound echoing off the tin walls, and it’s like the entire camp has shown up at once, rather than staggering the meal break out like we seem to have done for the past few days. It’s loud, but happy.
Still, I can see how it would be overwhelming for people who are usually a bit more introverted.
People like Benji.
Because he is definitely more introverted, even if he is good at pretending to be comfortable in social situations. It might sound creepy, but I’ve been watching him. He always leaves large group settingslooking drained.
It’s not difficult for me to load up two plates of food as I make my way down the buffet line. I choose bits of the dishes I’ve seen Benji favor over the past few nights, being sure to include a good balance of vegetables, too.
