Summer Camp Sweethearts

Chapter 10

I walk up the few steps of the wooden building, reaching the rain glass door with the word 'Reception' engraved on a piece of wood above the door.

I open the door and step inside. The receptionist is sitting behind a desk, reading a magazine.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asks, not looking up from the home magazine she is reading.

"The lady over the intercom told me to come to reception. I am Melissa Anderson." I say, looking around the room.

"Ah, yes, Rita is expecting you. You may go through," I smile at her and make my way down the small hallway. "Her office is the first door on the right." the receptionist says, finally looking up from her magazine and typing something on the computer.

I open the first door on the right and walk in. The room is smaller than an average office size, with a desk and chair at one end. There are two windows on either side of the room, which I assume face out onto the lake outside. I walk over to the desk and sit down in the chair. I look around the room, seeing a few pictures of Rita on her wedding day, some awards she has won, and a couple of certificates from various organizations. There is also a picture of Rita with her husband. He looks very handsome in his suit and tie, holding their two-year-old daughter's hand as they stand by an open window overlooking the lake.

"Melissa Anderson?" I hear someone call out from behind me. I turn around to see Rita standing in the doorway of her office. She is wearing a black dress with a red sash around her waist, and she has on black high heels. Her hair is up in a bun, and she looks very elegant.

"Yes?" I reply as I stand up from the chair. Rita walks over to me and extends her hand out for me to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you," I say as we shake hands firmly but not too hard so that our fingers don't hurt afterward. I smile, unsure why Rita called me into her office today.

"Please, have a seat," Rita says as she gestures to the chair in front of her desk. I sit down and look around the room again.

"I know you're probably wondering why you were called into my office today," Rita begins as she sits down in her chair. I nodded as I cautiously sat down on the chair opposite her.

"Well, we got a phone call from your father. He would like to speak with you," she informs me.

"My father?" I asked to make sure I heard her correctly. She nods her head, confirming my question.

"Yes, your father. He would like to speak with you," she repeats. I sit there in silence as I try to figure out what this could be about. She looks at me with confusion, probably trying to figure me out.

"Is that something you would do?" She asks, "He is still on the line," I snap my head up to her face and then look down to where the phone is sitting on the desk. My father is one of the other reasons I decided to come to this camp. I needed to get him out of my mind, and so far, it has worked until now. At least he is trying to contact me after a year. I consider my options, and before I know what I am doing, my head nods in agreement. Rita gives me a reassuring smile.

"I'll be outside if you need me," she says as she takes the phone off and hands me the receiver. I take the phone and place it to my ear.

"Hello?" I ask as if he is going to answer me. He doesn't respond at first but then finally speaks up.

"I'm sorry for calling you," he says softly, making me feel like intruding on something private.

"It's okay, Dad," I say, trying not to sound annoyed by his call.

"How did you know I was here?" I ask.

"I called home, and your mother said you were on camp, and then I called here," he says. I can hear some screaming in the background. Someone is informing him that he only has 2 minutes left on the phone. Since his sentence, he has only called me twice on my birthday.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner," he says.

"It's okay, Dad; it's not your fault."

"How are you?" he asks. "I mean, how is camp? Is it fun?"

"It's okay," I say.

"Just Okay? Why?" he asks. "What is wrong with camp?" He pauses for a moment before continuing. "How are your friends there?" he asks. I sighed heavily as if the question had taken all my energy away. Still, in reality, it was just another thing that annoyed me about this conversation already. It wasn't like we had never talked about my friends before. We had always talked about them, how they were doing in school and their plans. We never really got into specifics, though.

"They're fine," I say with a sigh of frustration. "Why do you ask?" my dad asks again as if he is still not getting it.

"I just want to know how your friends are doing," he says, sounding like an innocent child who has no idea that he is asking questions.

"Time's up!" a shout echoes through the phone.

"I have to go," I say. "Bye, dad."

"Bye, sweetie," he says. "Love you." I hung up the phone and sighed again as if my father had just told me that one of my friends had been in a car accident. It wasn't anything serious, though, so it didn't matter much to me anymore.

I sit back down on the chair in the office, just staring at the phone. The door swings open, and I see Mrs. Pierson entering. Other than my mother, she is the only other adult that knows the real story about my father. My friends know some parts of the story, but I could not tell them everything for various reasons.

"You're still here," she says. My eyes widen slightly with the realization that it is her in the room, and I feel the tension build up inside of me again. Why does he care so much about my friends? I feel my eyes start to well up, my vision quickly becoming blurry from the tears.

"I have to go," I say. "Bye, Mrs. Pierson."

"Wait!" she says as I stand up and start walking towards the door. "What's wrong?" She stands before me, blocking my way out of the room. My eyes widen again at her sudden appearance, and a sense of dread starts to fill my body once more.

"It's nothing," I say quickly as she grabs hold of my arm with one hand while the other hand holds onto the door handle. "I have to go." I try to pull away from her, but she's too strong for me and keeps a tight grip on my arm.

"What is it?" She asks again as I start to panic slightly.

"It's nothing," I say again, trying desperately not to cry in front of her.

"Come on," she says as she starts to pull me towards the door. "I want you to tell me what's wrong. You know you can talk to me about anything."

"I'm fine," I say as she pulls me towards the door.

"It's nothing." She stops pulling on my arm and looks at me with a concerned look.

"You're not fine," she says slowly. "What is it?" She asks again as I start to panic slightly once more. I shake my head, letting the tears finally flow.

"He wanted to know about my friends. And it's only the second time he called. Second time!" I say, sobbing. Mrs. Pierson brings me in for a hug.

"It's okay," she says as I cry into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I say, still crying. "I don't want to be a burden on you." She looks at me with a sad look and shakes her head slowly.

"Don't ever think that about yourself," she says as she wipes the tears from my face while holding onto my other arm with the other hand. "If anything, you're an asset to this school. What your father did does not define who you are." I nod in her chest, my sobbing becoming more under control. I am glad she knows about my father. I at least have someone to go to when things like this happen.

"Now, you're going to go back to the cabin and get some rest," she says as I nod. "I'll see you tomorrow." She kisses my forehead before letting me go.

"Thank you, Mrs. Pierson," I say as I walk out of the office with a smile for the first time in days.