Give Me a Sign(42)

“We can do that game if we have time before lunch after finishing this song,” Mackenzie says and signs.

“It’s okay,” I tell Blake, who looks lost. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

All of this is really her choice to make, but she has a new resolve, perhaps feeling left out. Honey has been a popular leader in the group, and Blake might be growing tired of going against the grain. “No, I’m going to do this.”

We slow down and start back at the top, and Blake makes a sincere attempt. So this time, when Blake messes up a sign, Honey leans forward and repeats it, slowly. Blake rolls her eyes but follows along, and Honey confirms that Blake has done it correctly. They’re . . . not fighting? Where did this progress come from? I don’t know, but I’ll take it. That’s the most these two have worked together all summer.

* * *

I’m picking off the burnt edges of my grilled cheese, not feeling lunch, when Ethan taps me on the shoulder. “Grab your stuff and pretend to go to the bathroom—but meet me outside.”

What in the world?

Ethan is whispering to Simone now, too. I take a final bite, grab my backpack, and leave my food behind. If I had randomly left the table earlier in the summer, Blake would have immediately noticed my absence. But today, she actually took a seat between two of her fellow campers rather than by my side.

I walk past the single-stall dining hall bathroom and head out the side door. I sneak around to the front, ducking low to avoid the windows. Isaac and Bobby are waiting a short distance from the entrance. Simone and Ethan are close behind me.

No one seems too concerned, so I figure this isn’t an emergency. “What’s up?” I say and sign.

“All right, that’s everyone,” Ethan says and signs. “I’ve come up with a new game: Counselor Search. Basically, a large-scale hide-and-seek.”

“Hide-and-seek?” I ask. That brings back memories of sitting in a closet or hiding behind a curtain at my grandmother’s house.

“Trust me, the kids are gonna love it,” Ethan continues. “You four go anywhere on the campgrounds. After lunch, I’ll send the campers to try to find you. They’ll search together in groups with the remaining counselors. So keep your phones on you, in case the game ends and you’re still hiding.” He looks down at his watch. “You’ve got about ten minutes to get settled, so . . . good luck!” Ethan shoos us away, signaling that we’re supposed to hurry to a hiding place now.

Bobby follows the path and ducks into the nearby dance barn. Simone runs for the pool. Isaac yanks off his baseball cap, holding it to his chest and sprinting in the direction of the cabins. So I guess I’ll go toward the lake?

But where am I going to hide? Maybe behind a canoe? But that’s past the sectioned-off part of the lake, and I don’t see Oliver or Ben anywhere, so the campers wouldn’t be allowed to search down here anyway. There isn’t much else, except for the picnic tables, which don’t offer enough cover.

I head back over the bridge, pausing to catch my breath. These places are too spread out. The campers are probably starting the game any minute now.

At the base of the bridge is a giant, hollow tree trunk, whose opening faces away from the path. What kind of bugs and critters have made this space their home? I’d likely be able to peek out to see if anyone is heading this way and remain hidden enough to evade notice when the campers reach the lake. So I detour a few feet off the path and around to the other side of the tree trunk. But when I stick my head in, someone stares back at me.

“Aaah!” I scream, and Isaac lets out a surprised gasp.

“Shh.” He jumps up and grabs my shoulders.

My heart is still threatening to explode, so I put a hand to my chest and take several slow breaths. “You scared me!”

“You scared me!” he signs, checking his watch and crouching back into the tree trunk.

I have no idea where else to hide. But when I step away, Isaac leans forward, beckoning me to join him.

“This might be a tight squeeze,” I say to myself.

Isaac crouches and sits against the trunk, knees pulled to his chest. I follow suit and clutch my backpack in my lap, to make sure the straps aren’t visible and giving away our hiding place. There’s just enough room for us to sit side by side, but even then, he has to hunch forward. I wish I’d worn leggings instead of shorts today, knowing that I’m dooming myself to a million bug bites.

“Fun new game,” Isaac signs, barely able to turn and face me since our shoulders are wedged together.

I nod, unsure how much chatting we’ll do. Last night around the campfire was actually decent, so we’ve made progress.

Sitting here together in the tree, Isaac reaches for his pocket, putting his hat back on and scrolling through his phone. I guess we’re not talking now. I try to think of anything other than does he like me or does he not?

Then my backpack buzzes. I’m careful to avoid elbowing Isaac as I reach to unzip my bag and get my phone.

Sure enough, I have a text—my very first one ever—from Isaac.

Isaac: So . . . Why’d you try to steal my spot?

His eyebrows are narrowed in an amused way. I tilt my head, but he points to my phone.

Lilah: I clearly did not know you were here because you scared the crap out of me!

Isaac: You’re not supposed to scream during hide-and-seek. I think that gives away the hiding spot . . .