Day After Tomorrow

“Okay, let’s go over the list again,” Tori says for the hundredth time swinging her blond hair out of her face before glancing over the checklist once more. This year will be our second year counseling and she’s probably more excited than I am and that’s saying something considering I’ve waited a year for today.

I live for one out of fifty-two weeks a year. And America’s Camp is that week. It’s the only place I can be me without people feeling sorry for me and watching my reaction whenever someone mentions the name Elezar Price. When my mom first told me I’d be going to a camp for children who lost any loved one during the 9/11 attacks I stared at her. I mean she couldn’t have been serious right?  It was the first summer after my dad’s death and she was sending me away to console in strangers instead of people who actually knew and loved him?

              “Honey it’s not like you’re going to be sitting around a bonfire crying every night,” I remember her saying. “Just give it a try. You never know, it could be a blessing in disguise.” Then she kissed my forehead and left me staring where she stood just a few moments ago.

A blessing in disguise.

I smile at the idiom now. My dad and I used to say them all the time for fun. It was our thing that no one besides my mom knew about. It’s one of those things that people say or do everyday without knowing there’s a special story for someone out there about it. But all of that was nearly ten years ago and if I’ve learned anything it’s that I’m not the same Azra Price from ten years ago.

“I think we’re good,” I reassure Tori while stuffing Bloom in my duffel bag.

              “Good isn’t good enough. These kids are going to look up to us. How do they expect us to prepare them when we’re not prepared ourselves?” she fumes.

              I turn around to look at her. She’s wearing a plaid black and pink dress with black leggings. She’s the type of person that looks good in almost anything she wears. She’s skinny but with curves unlike me, who’s skinny in all departments and have to wear a push-up bra to get a little attention. She lives two houses down but we never said anything more than a shy hello before ten years ago. We officially met at America’s Camp when we were eight. I hadn’t known until then that her mom had been a victim in the 9/11 attacks. Ever since then, we’ve been inseparable.

              “Tori, I say this with love. Take a deep breath and exhale down stairs. Out of my room.” She rolls her eyes but otherwise don’t say another word as she drags her suitcase across my plush rug and went down stairs.

              I grab my suitcase and roll it off my bed till it slams onto the floor and follow after her. As I’m walking down stairs my mom takes this time to study me. “’Warm My Heart and Not My Planet,” she reads amused. “I don’t think your shirt will be able to scream tree hugger louder if you tried. I raised you well.” She embraces me as I step onto the floor.

              I kiss her cheek in response. Actually she’s not really a nature person. The one time she agreed to go camping with me there was more screaming than there was stargazing. But she knew it was something I cared about so I didn’t say so.

              “Where’s Chase?” I ask. He’s driving Tori and I to the camp because my car is in the shop and wouldn’t be fixed until Wednesday.

              “Right here,” a voice booms coming in from the front door. Chase never knocks anymore. It irritates the hell out of Tori but it doesn’t really bother me anymore. I can tell my mom gets mad too but she’s just too polite to say anything about it.