“What?” I ask, following her gaze. Someone is yelling, and it isn’t Mackenzie, though she’s still waiting there on the golf cart. “What’s happening?”
Simone raises her voice. “They want us off the lake,” she relays. “It must be the lifeguards.”
Whoops. I did invite Oliver and Ben to join us. I’d assumed we’d be hanging around the beach or something, not partaking in an activity that’s against the rules. I squint through the darkness and see the two of them stripping off their jackets, each grabbing a red buoy and wading into the water.
The other counselors have all sat up, too.
“Who is it?” Jaden asks.
Isaac and Natasha shake their heads, but Ethan fills them in. “The lifeguards,” he says and signs.
“The British are coming!” Bobby shouts. He’s the only one still lying on his back on the trampoline.
I read Simone’s lips as she whispers, “They’re cute this year . . .”
The lifeguards reach us. Ben climbs the ladder and stands on the top rung, towering over our group. “Well ——，” he shouts. He has a strong accent, clipping off the ends of words and making it very difficult for me to understand him. “—— trouble if we —— hours.”
“What if you joined us?” Simone asks. Bobby shakes his head.
“Sorry!” Oliver shouts from the water. He says something else, quietly, that makes Simone giggle.
“Okay.” Bobby sits up so quickly that the whole trampoline sways on the water. “You know what, why don’t you give us a minute, and we’ll make our way back to the beach.” He shouts even louder, his tone stern. “We’re being kicked out, everyone!”
Ben shakes his head, confused by Bobby’s outburst. “Cheers.” He jumps back into the water to rejoin Oliver. The two float on their buoys but don’t move any farther.
“What do they want?” Natasha says and signs, looking straight at me since Ethan’s already jumped down into the water.
“Lifeguards say time to go . . . ” I sign slowly, unsure how to phrase “kicking us out.” “Now is not—”
But as I’m contemplating what words I have in my arsenal to formulate a better explanation, Natasha interrupts me. “Just speak, I’ll read your lips.”
Ouch, I was trying here. “We’re being kicked out by the lifeguards,” I say, my hands clasped in my lap. I try to catch Isaac’s eyes, but he and Jaden are already on their feet. They bounce off the trampoline, launching themselves into the water.
Simone offers Bobby help getting down, but he ignores her and crawls straight to the edge, right over my legs. “Sorry!” he shouts. “I’d be able to find my way if Simone hadn’t abandoned me for her new boyfriends.”
“Come on,” Simone says, rolling her eyes. “Shh, they’ll hear you.”
Bobby dives into the lake, waiting for Simone to jump in after him. He’s one to joke about everything, but is he genuinely jealous? I think I heard “new boyfriends.” So does that mean he’s Simone’s boyfriend? Or was?
“Where are you?” he asks. “Why is no one else splashing into the water?”
“—— help?” Oliver says. The lifeguards kick their way over to Bobby.
“Nope, I can swim,” he says. “Better than you. The only thing is I don’t know which way the beach is.”
“I’m on my way,” Simone says. There’s a hint of exasperation in her voice.
When we all make it to the shore, Mackenzie is waiting for us. She’s scowling, gripping the wheel of the golf cart tightly, probably feeling left out.
Simone guides Bobby up the beach, but he detaches from her arm as soon as he can follow Mackenzie’s voice to the golf cart, where he hops on for a ride back. Simone follows and sits beside him. They seem to be having a serious conversation.
The rest of us grab our bags. Natasha and Jaden jostle for the last seat in the cart, but Jaden beats her to it. “Later,” he signs to her with his tongue sticking out as the four of them speed away back to the cabins.
I wipe the wet sand off my feet, putting my shoes on to walk back up the path toward the cabins with the others. Wrapped in my big beach towel, I carry my backpack off one shoulder. My ears are still too wet to put my hearing aids back in. I look around for Isaac, but Oliver approaches me.
“Hey, really sorry about ——，” he says. I can’t catch the rest of what he’s saying. So I turn to face him. What I don’t notice is the large tree root in front of me, so I trip, arms flailing—but Oliver catches me before I fall. Still, this is not as embarrassing as walking into a street sign while trying to look at and talk to someone, which has happened to me more than I’d care to admit. But this is definitely up there.
“Thanks . . .” After an awkward pause, I steady myself and we walk again. “Sorry, I’m not staring at your lips in, like, a weird way. I’m trying to read them so I can figure out what you’re saying since I can’t hear you at all right now . . .”
“I see,” he says, and once again says more that I can’t understand, even though he seems to be slowing down and speaking louder. His hand is outstretched at the ready in case I trip again.
“Sorry,” I say, gesturing toward my mouth. “With the accent and everything, the lips aren’t much help. It’d be great to talk later, though, when I can hear you.”
He nods understandingly and pats my shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says, then jokingly puckers his lips, waves goodbye, and lets me rejoin the counselors. He starts heading back to the beach to rejoin Ben.
I stop momentarily to let the staff catch up with me. I can just make out Isaac walking my way and glancing at Oliver as he jogs past him. Then Isaac steps next to Natasha, extends his towel, and wraps it around the two of them while her teeth chatter from the cold.
Um, okay. Are they a thing? She leans over to rest her head on Isaac’s shoulder.
Isaac glances over at me, probably wondering why I’m staring, so I rush beside Ethan, not wanting to stand there awkwardly.
Ethan’s got his phone flashlight on, but instead of directing it straight to the path in front of us, he shines it up so we can see each other’s faces.
“What time do we have to wake up tomorrow?” I ask, raising my arms to tie up my damp hair.
“Wake up?” Ethan repeats. I nod. “Probably seven?” he says and signs. “So set your alarm for that.”
“Alarm clock?” I confirm, and it’s his turn to nod. “Yikes, I didn’t bring mine.”
My phone’s alarm isn’t loud enough, and its vibrations aren’t strong enough to reliably alert me, so I usually depend on my parents dragging me out of bed each morning, which really won’t be sustainable when I leave for college in a year. This didn’t even cross my mind when I packed for the summer. When I was a camper, the counselors woke me up every morning—so now what?
“You didn’t bring one?” Ethan asks. We’re both making sure the other understands what we’re saying, since neither of us is wearing our hearing aids, but he seems to be rubbing my mistake in my face just a bit. “Someone can make sure you’re up. I’ve got my earthquake alarm, and so do many of the other counselors.”