Connor
This was an unfamiliar familiarity. I felt like I had been here five thousand times before, even though this was the first moment I had ever set foot on this land. Everyone knew everyone, and the laughter, the conversation, and the excitement was all a blur to me. People my age, younger, and older, embraced their longtime friends and introduced themselves to new ones. And here I was, alone and knowing no one. I was okay with that for the time being.
Out of nowhere, a bubbly counselor rushed over to me. She had the largest smile on her face and radiated vivacity.
"Hi! My name is Louise, and I'll be your counselor this summer! Well, not your counselor specifically, but I'll be a counselor for your future friends. What's your name?"
I was taken aback. Louise had round eyes, blonde hair with pink tips, and was rather tall; she was about my height. She seemed super sweet and cheerful, but I was not expecting her to introduce herself.
"Uh, I'm Connor Franta," I said shakily.
"Where are you from?" Louise asked, searching through her clipboard to find my nametag.
"Minnesota."
"Oooh, Minnesota sounds fun. I've never been there."
Louise finally found the sticker with my name on it and gave it to me.
"Here you are, Connor! You're in Cabin 10B, so just find the sign that says 'Cabin 10B,' and you'll be set! Nice to meet you, Connor! And have fun at camp!"
"Uh, you too!" I responded as I walked away. Now I had to find the sign for my Cabin. I had no clue where I was going. I pretended I knew what I was doing, so I didn't have to experience unfamiliar people coming up to me.
"CABIN 10B!" a deeper voice yelled. I spun around and saw a college-age guy, wearing a bro-tank, shorts, and flip flops. I ran over to where he was, thankful that I'd finally found my cabin's sign.
There were about ten other guys my age, all talking to each other, laughing, not noticing me. I was okay with that.
"What's your name?" the guy in the bro-tank asked.
"Connor." I said quickly.
He checked off my name on a sheet and turned back to another counselor.
"JOE, YOU FUCKIN DICKHEAD, THERE'S STILL ONE MORE CAMPER WE'RE WAITING FOR. TROY-EE MELLET OR SOMETHING."
"I'm right here, and my name is Troye, no emphasis on the 'e.'
I looked to my left, and there was a boy, a bit taller than me, with quiffed hair and piercing blue eyes. Troye.
"Troye Mellet, you are here. Joe, we got 'em all."
There was something about Troye that made me nervous. I didn't know what it was, and I had never felt it before. It made me slightly uneasy.
YOU ARE READING
It's a Beautiful Day in Oconomowoc
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