“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 . . .
Lilah: Good thing probably no one heard me :） My heart is still racing so fast from all that running.
Isaac: Whoops sorry
He nudges my shoulder as an apology, which certainly doesn’t help the situation. The campers better find us before I die in this tree.
This feels like the point where our conversations up until now have tended to fizzle out. I’m nervous and unsure of what to say next. Even though we barely know each other, I feel like I’ve known him forever.
I haven’t responded to Isaac’s last text, so he drops his phone on his lap. I’m going to make more of an effort here.
Lilah: So . . . dogs or cats?
Isaac grabs his phone so fast. I turn to hide my obvious smile.
Isaac: Hmm
Lilah: Obviously dogs
Isaac: Wrong, the answer is cats
He includes a GIF of a cat waving hello with its paw.
Isaac: Favorite candy? Can’t beat M&M’S
Lilah: Except with strawberry cheesecake jelly beans
Isaac: Cheesecake jelly beans?
Lilah: Don’t knock it till you try it
Isaac: All right, favorite vacation?
Lilah: Hmm I like road trips
Isaac: Me too! Especially hiking at national parks
Lilah: Hence that Yosemite hoodie you have
He nods several times and turns to me. “My favorite one.”
Lilah: Okay, favorite color?
Isaac: Green. And yours is purple.
He looks up and points to my hearing aids, purple hair tie, and several of the bracelets on my wrist.
My hand shakes as I sign, “See, you do know me . . . ”
I quickly second-guess myself. Why did I reference that night? But . . . is that a faint blush rising on his cheeks? He looks away from my eyes and buries his face in his phone to type something else. I’m somewhat relieved when it’s just another question.
Isaac: Now the most important: Cubs or Sox?
Lilah: Go Cubs go
Isaac: Whew, we couldn’t share this tree otherwise
Lilah: But that’s not a Cubs hat?
I point to the baseball cap he’s wearing, which despite being the same blue color, has a cursive L on the front, rather than a C. I’ve been curious about it all summer.
Isaac: My Dominican team, los Tigres del Licey. I go to games when I visit my grandparents.
Lilah: Very cool. You know Spanish?
Isaac: Trilingual, what up
So he lip-reads not only one spoken language but two. Meanwhile, I opted out of foreign-language classes because the listening components proved impossible. I’m impressed and must be staring at him in amazement because he nods to ask “What?”
Lilah: Dang you’re so smart. Yet we’re here texting because I’m not good enough at sign yet.
Isaac: You’re picking it up fast! Sometimes it helps to have a break
Lilah: Yeah but I feel like I should already be fluent and it really bothers me that I’m not
Isaac: Even in the beginning you were already signing with me. So many people I know at school don’t even bother to try, they just talk to me by writing.
Lilah: Which is what we’re doing right now . . .
Isaac drops his phone to his lap again and grins. “Okay, let’s sign. What’s up?”
“Eek,” I say, dropping my phone as well. Okay, but what to sign? “We are in a tree.”
“Big tree,” he signs, blowing out his cheeks to denote size. “We are —— in a big tree.”
I shake my head. Wait, didn’t Ethan just use that one? If I had to guess . . . “H-i-d—”
He nods immediately before I can even finish the word. “H-i-d-i-n-g, hiding.”
“We are hiding in a big tree,” I sign. He’s signing English for my benefit, but I appreciate him shifting methods with ease. “Lots of bugs.”
“Perfect for you, Bug.” He smiles, using my sign name.
“Not perfect if they bite me.”
“Need bug spray?”
“No, no.” I mimic spraying a canister, then hold my hands out to gesture the puffs of aerosol going into our faces in this small space. I briefly close my eyes and stick out my tongue dramatically while signing “Dead.”
Isaac laughs—a wonderful, quiet laugh, where his mouth transforms into a smile as his chest rises and falls. “Okay, no bug spray. Are you ready for the break tonight?”
“Yeah, the restaurant.” I make the sign, but I’m unsure if I got it right, so I spell out “R-e-s-t-a-u-r-a-n-t.”
He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.
“Wrong sign?” I ask, confused.
Isaac waves his hand to clarify. “That’s the right sign, restaurant. But F-r-e-d-d-y-s is not really a restaurant.” He chuckles.
“Oh,” I say. “What is it?”
Isaac starts to sign an explanation when two girls run off the path and stop directly in front of our tree.
It’s Blake and Honey. They’re shoving each other, but then Honey points at us.
“I found them!” Blake shouts at the top of her lungs.
Honey reads her lips and shoves Blake again. “No, I found them.”
“Hey, everyone, I found Lilah and Isaac!” Blake shouts again. “Points for our cabin!”
“We get points for our cabin!” Honey signs. The two enthusiastically run back together to the rest of the group.
Isaac crawls out of the tree and offers his hand to help me up. I brush off the dirt and notice several red welts on my legs. The bugs got me good.
Isaac notices. “New reason for your sign name.”
“H-a h-a,” I sign as he reaches down to brush some dirt off the backs of my calves. I . . . have not been shaving my legs while at camp, but he doesn’t seem bothered.
“There, all good,” he signs.
“Thank you.”
* * *
After dinner, we’re given time to get ready for the talent show and dance. Our younger girls don’t spend too much time dressing up, so we get to the barn early and hang out on the steps. But then some of them decide they want their hair braided, so Mackenzie and I get to work.