The Summer at Camazotz

Twenty-Five

A bump in the road startles me awake. My head spins from the sudden movement and I lift my hand to my head to steady myself. For a few seconds the world is muffled before my ears clear and the laughs and screams of children awaken me further.

"You alright?"

I rub at my sore neck and nod; I must have fallen asleep on Jordan's shoulder at some point. "How long was I out?"

Jordan smiles. "Since we got on the main roads."

I groan and rest my head back against the seat. We're probably almost home by now and I slept through most of the ride. "Crap, sorry. I must have been more tired than I thought."

"It's fine. You obviously needed it," he reassures.

"I know, but you were stuck between me and the window."

Jordan shrugs as if none of the points I'm making matter. "Didn't bother me."

It takes a few minutes for me to wake up fully and by then Jordan and I have fallen into easy conversation. We're almost home so the ride goes by quickly for me. By the time we pull into the parking lot of the local community centre, I'm torn between feeling disappointed and feeling relieved.

The parking lot is packed with cars of parents and relatives anxiously awaiting a child on the bus. I'm not sure who to expect for myself when I get off the bus, but that's the last thing I'm worried about.

Despite Frank and Joan reminding campers to exit the bus in an orderly fashion, their words go right over their heads as a stampede forms. The second I stand up from my seat I'm knocked back down against Jordan. I mutter an apology while he laughs.

We're the last ones off the bus and stick to each other like glue. I should be looking for my mom or dad or anyone, but I can only focus on Jordan. We help some campers look for their bags before we grab our own and look around the crowd.

Kids run into their parents' arms who look overjoyed to see them and relieved that nothing bad has happened. They chatter about all the adventures they had at camp, one coming out after the other.

Timothy makes his way to me from his mother who is glowing with what I think is pride. He opens up his arms and I bend down to give him one final hug. When he gives me a squeeze, I return it, savouring the moment with my—obviously—favourite camper.

"You'll come back next year, right?" he says as he pulls away.

"As long as you'll be in my cabin again, buddy."

Timothy gives me one last toothy grin before waving goodbye to me—and Jordan—and skipping back over to where his mom is waiting.

"Why don't I get that much attention from you?"

I shove Jordan with my shoulder. "Because he's cuter than you."

Jordan gapes at me. I ignore him and maneuver around him to pick up my bags. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I glance back up and spot my brother a little ways away, looking effortlessly good as always.

Winston is the star child of the family—though no one will admit it. It's not just that he's going to school for forensic science, it's the way he carries himself and his personality and his entire being. He has the same dark brown hair as I do, but instead of being curly, his hair is straight and barely passes his ears. He's about an inch or two taller than Jordan and loves to tease me about how I'll never reach my big brother's height. He's leaning against the passenger door of mom's car, looking at something on his phone.

Of course my older brother got all of the good genes.

Jordan notices my distracted gaze and follows it to Winston. He seems slightly taken aback by his presence and looks back and forth between us before asking, "Wait, is that your brother? Damn, your family has some good genes."