Going Nowhere

Summer of Survival

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If you couldn't guess from the title, we're taking a step back to humor. 

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The unfamiliar country fields sped past on either side of me, and I leaned back in the ripped upholstery of the dirty taxi. Stray wisps of hair from my ponytail tickled my face, and I groaned.

“How much longer until we get to the camp?” I asked the driver.

“Only about ten more minutes,” he replied, and I sighed. Thank God, because my supply of ice cold water had run out about fifteen minutes ago, and this awful heat was making me sweat like a pig.

My parents thought it would be a marvelous idea to send me to an all-girls adventure camp over the summer, since they’d be in Africa on a good-will mission for the next two and a half months. Personally, I would’ve loved to just stay home by myself and my boxed set of every past season of Trueblood, but since I was only seventeen, I wasn’t allowed.

Lucky me.

The taxi turned onto a long dirt road, and I watched as tall trees seemed to pop up on either side of it. I could just see a flag in the distance, and the sparkling blue of the lake, and I knew that I would be arriving at Camp Arrowhead in a matter of minutes.

Sure enough, the taxi pulled to a stop in front of a check in point. I slung on my backpack and grabbed my bright yellow duffel bag. Then, I handed the taxi driver a wad of money and ducked out of the car.

As the car door slammed shut behind me, I looked around and noticed that there were no girls to be seen. Instead, a bunch of guys my age were wandering around or chilling in groups. I frowned.

Maybe I’m in the wrong place, I thought, and I turned around to get back in the taxi, only to find it gone. I groaned and turned back the face the camp. My eyes settled on a man who looked to be in his thirties, and he was holding a clipboard. I decided that he looked informed enough to help me. As I walked over, he looked up and his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Can you help me?” I asked, my cheeks growing red in embarrassment.

“Sure,” the man replied slowly, and I read the name tag on his shirt as Tony.

“I’m looking for Camp Arrowhead, and I have a feeling I’m in the wrong place,” I said, and Tony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“No,” Tony replied slowly, “This is Camp Arrowhead. However, I do think you’re in the wrong place since this is an all boys’ summer camp.”

Did I just hear him right? All-boys summer camp? Please tell me that Ashton Kutcher was hiding in a tree or something and he was about to tell me that I was being Punk’d.

“Wa… Wait,” I said insistently, “My parents signed me up to attend Camp Arrowhead at this address.”

“Camp Arrowhead stopped being an all girls’ summer camp three years ago,” Tony said, and he glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. “What’s your name?”

“Drew,” I replied, “Drew Nash.” As Tony flipped through the papers on his clipboard, I wiped my forehead in frustration and kicked the pebbles on the ground.

Please, just let me wake up on the plane and have this whole thing be a dream. I pinched my arm and winced at the pain. Unfortunately, that meant I was awake… and surrounded by testosterone.