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“Wait up!” I called after him.

I made it two steps out the door, looked to my left and to my right. And he was gone. Just like on the bus. I chanced a glance behind me but he wasn’t there either. And I had to admit I was slightly bummed.

“Fucking coward,” I muttered under my breath, and I didn’t know if I meant me or Alvin. Right now, it seemed to fit both of us equally.

“You talking to me?”

I turned around and spotted a skinny kid curled up on one side of the porch. Camp t-shirt stretched-out and pulled over the tops of his knees and face tucked into the collar.

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Not you, kid.”

“The gay one went that way.” He lifted his head and hitched a thumb behind him, towards the chow hall.

“Mr. Carter.” When the kid didn’t seem to understand my meaning, I added, “The gay one. His name is Mr. Carter.”

“Okay.”

I stepped forward and crouched down to the kid’s level. He looked to be about ten or twelve but I knew he had to be at least fourteen to be in our group. Alvin had been like that at that age. Small and lanky with hair bigger than he was. Up until he hit a growth spurt around ninth grade.

I remembered having to look down at him, and then all of a sudden one day I hadn’t. He’d gotten taller, filled out more, learned how to throw a right hook…

I reached up to rub at my jaw without realizing I was doing it. It didn’t hurt anymore but it sure as fuck stung when he’d surprised me by landing that blow that landed us here. If we’d been on better terms, I would have congratulated him on finally learning to hit back. Because we weren’t, I’d bloodied his lip instead.

“You didn’t wanna go with him?” I asked the camper. I didn’t know how to talk to kids. Clearly. But there had been a time when I knew how to talk to Alvin, so the fact this particular kid reminded me of him helped.

“No.”

“Why not?”

The kid shrugged. “Why didn’t you want to go with him?”

“What makes you think I didn’t?” I countered.

“The face you made.”

“What face?”

The kid quirked an eyebrow. “Like you were disgusted.”

“I’m not… I wasn’t disgusted.” I shook my head. “Alvin is… was… Mr. Carter is my…”

“Your what?”

“He’s my friend, all right?” I huffed. See? This was exactly why I didn’t like kids. They asked too many fucking questions. “What’s with the third degree?”

“You two don’t look like friends.”

“Yeah? And what are friends supposed to look like?” I used the railing to push myself back up and extended a hand.

The kid pulled his knees out of the shirt and let me tug him to his feet. “Not like they want to rip each other’s faces off.”

“Clearly you’ve never had a best friend then.” I chuckled and swung an arm over the camper’s shoulders, guiding him towards the chow hall. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”

“Is the food good here?”

“The food? Nah, it’s fucking terrible.” I laughed again. “But we’re gonna eat it anyway.”

“Why?”