Surviving Hackett's Quarry

The Last Day of Camp

"You never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." The melody drifted softly through the trees as I strummed my guitar. Kids gathered around, swaying gently to the music, their voices chiming in. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the camp's final serenade.
"You are so cool, Miss Josie!" One of the kids named Madison exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Thanks, Maddie," I replied, smiling at her. Moments like these made the long, hot summer days worthwhile.
"Can we sing another song?" "Yes, of course! " I said, glancing around the circle for suggestions. A little boy, Timmy, raised his hand eagerly. "Can we sing 'Country Roads'?" "Of course, Timmy! " I replied, adjusting my guitar and giving it a gentle strum to set the tune.
"Country road, take me home," I started, and the kids joined in enthusiastically. I didn't know why my fellow counselors were having a hard time with the kids, I was having a blast and these moments were the perfect way to end the summer. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden light across Hackett's Quarry. As the last notes of "Country Roads" faded, the camp director, Mr. Hackett approached us with a broad smile on his face. "Great job, everyone," he said, clapping his hands. "Thanks. Mr H." "Let's get ready for the bonfire," he continued, his eyes twinkling with promised excitement. The kids cheered and scampered off to gather sticks and marshmallows. "Aww, but I want to keep singing!" "I know, but the bonfire will be fun too," I assured them, patting Timmy on the back. The warmth and crackle of the fire drew everyone closer as the night settled over Hackett's Quarry.
My friends were approaching the campfire: Abigail Blyg was sitting on one of the logs drawing in her sketchbook she always carried with her. She was the youngest out of all of us counselors and had a talent for capturing the essence of camp life in her sketches. She was best friends with Emma Mountebank, the stereotypical "popular girl" with a knack for makeup and fashion. She wasn't the nicest girl but had a charisma that drew people to her. Emma's strawberry blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail as she helped set up the s'mores station, chatting animatedly with anyone who passed by.
Dylan Lenivy was the most entertaining guy I'd ever known, he was one of my best friends and had a way with stories that could keep us all laughing for hours. He was the deejay for the camp and his voice would make a daily appearance over the intercom every morning. He was a bit of a slacker but always managed to get the job done when it counted. Ryan Erzahler stood nearby, keeping his usual stoic expression as he meticulously organized firewood. He was the quote on quote, "tall, dark, and mysterious" guy who seemed to have a secret life we could only guess about. I didn't know him too well, but he had entertaining ghost stories to tell the kids around the campfire. His latest one was about the "Hag of Hackett's Quarry." Ryan's voice would lower to a gravelly whisper, captivating his young audience. I guess his words were a little too convincing because a large number of the kids would write home claiming to have nightmares. Kaitlyn Ka was our go-to problem solver, her sharp mind always one step ahead in any tricky situation. Her official role at the camp was the nurse and she handled every minor injury and scrape with a practiced precision that gave the kids—and us counselors—a sense of comfort. Next, there was Jacob Custos, the classic jock with a heart of gold. His athletic prowess was unmatched, and he often coached the kids in various sports, making even the clumsiest feel like champions. Every time I would look his way, he'd be surrounded by a crowd of cheering kids, their faces lit up with admiration and joy. My heart would burst with happiness seeing how kind he was. He was also so adorable in his goofy, endearing way that it was hard not to have a soft spot for him. In fact, I had more than a soft spot for him, I had a full-blown crush. Though, I never mustered up the courage to tell him, and now he was head over heels in love with Emma, who only saw him as a summer fling. I wondered what it would take to get him to see I cared so much about him unlike Emma. Nick Furcillo, on the other hand, was the quiet one, introspective and thoughtful. He often found solace in reading under the big oak tree by the lake, where he'd lose himself in the pages of whichever book he was currently engrossed. He had moved to the States during this last school year from Australia and still carried a hint of his charming accent in his speech. He had a huge crush on Abi and vice versa. But neither of them had found the courage to confess their feelings.
"Hey, Josie! Why don't you play us one of your songs?" Dylan shouted from across the campfire, his trademark grin lighting up his face. The kids cheered in agreement along with my fellow counselors. I hesitated for a moment, my fingers already itching to pick up my guitar.
I humored him and stood up with my instrument. "Any requests?" A chorus of shouts erupted, but the loudest came from Ryan: "How about 'Take on Me'?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise, "You are the last person who I'd expect to request an '80s classic, Ryan." "Hey, I'm just unpredictable like that," he shot back, smirking. I laughed and nodded, tuning my guitar quickly.
I began to strum the iconic opening notes of 'Ah-ha's classic song and then I began to sing, "We're walking away, I don't know what I'm to say I'll say it anyway, today's another day to find you shying away." As I continued to sing, more voices joined in, blending into a harmonious chorus around the flickering flames.
"Any more requests?" I was having so much fun that I didn't want the moment to end. Dylan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "How about 'Living on a Prayer'? " he suggested. "Oh, hell yes!" Jacob exclaimed , pumping his fist in the air. I laughed, shaking my head at his enthusiasm. "Oh, I don't know if we can do Bon Jovi justice, but let's give it a shot!" "Josie! Josie! Josie!" they chanted, egging me on. I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement.
I adjusted my guitar and began to sing, "Once upon a time, not so long ago Tommy used to work on the docks, union's been on strike, he's down on his luck....it's tough, so tough. " As my fingers danced over the strings, the fire crackled along, acting almost like our percussion section. "She says, we've gotta hold on to what we got It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not," everyone joined in wholeheartedly, their voices filling the night air. "We're half-way there, woah-oh, livin' on a prayer," I sang, my voice growing louder with each passing verse. While I was singing, I thought I saw Jacob looking at me with a softness I hadn't noticed before. It was almost as if the song had broken down some invisible barrier between us. The song ended, and for a moment, there was only silence, except for the crackling of the fire. The stillness was palpable, and then suddenly, the clearing erupted with applause and cheers, knocking me out of my reverie. I smiled, feeling a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. I would miss playing music for the kids, but I was mourning the fact that night I never got to tell Jacob how I felt. As we packed up our gear and headed back to the cabins, I kept stealing glances at Jacob, my mind buzzing with "what ifs". Each glance, each fleeting second, felt charged, as if the air itself was crackling with unspoken words. If only I had the courage to speak those words.
As we reached the cabins, Jacob slowed his pace, allowing the others to pass us by. He looked at me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. There was an aura of sadness in his face.
       "Jake, you okay?" I asked , my voice barely above a whisper, afraid of shattering the fragile moment. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replied, though his voice told a different story. "Your lips say nothing's wrong but your eyes are telling me otherwise," I said softly, trying to bridge the gap between us. Jacob's gaze dropped for a moment before meeting mine again, conflicted. "Emma wanted to talk to me earlier, and she said she didn't want to continue what we were having because we're going to different schools in the fall," he confessed, his voice cracking with emotion. One side of me wanted to embrace him, to offer comfort, but the other side hesitated, unsure of how he would respond to such vulnerability. "Jake, I'm really sorry," I said gently, placing a hand on his arm. He looked down at my hand, taking a shaky breath. My heart raced as he closed the distance between us, his eyes searching for something he couldn't put into words. "I just... I thought we had something, you know? Something real," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I get that, it's tough," I replied, my voice steady as I tried to offer him some comfort.
"I thought she was the one," he admitted, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and confusion. I could feel the weight of his words, the pain of unrequited love mirrored in my own heart.

"Sometimes, the person we think is right for us turns out not to be," I said softly, choosing my words carefully. "But that doesn't mean there isn't someone else who sees you for who you really are and cares deeply for you."

Jacob's gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, I wondered if he could see the truth in my eyes. The firelight flickered around us, casting shadows that danced with the unspoken feelings between us. I wanted to tell him so badly, to let him know that he didn't have to look far to find someone who genuinely cared. But fear held me back.

He gave me a small, grateful smile, and I knew he appreciated my words, even if he didn't fully understand the depth of them. "Thanks, Josie. You're a good friend."

Friend. The word stung, but I forced a smile, nodding. "Anytime, Jake."

As we parted ways for the night, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had missed my chance. But there was still the rest of the summer, and maybe, just maybe, there would be another moment where I could muster the courage to tell him how I really felt. Until then, I would cherish these small, precious moments, hoping they would eventually lead to something more.