‹ Prequel: Ana
Sequel: Relearning Laura ›
The "You're Not Fat" Campaign
I Don't Want To Go Home
It's the second-to-last day of camp. We have to go home tomorrow. Naomi and I are sitting on the dock, dangling our feet in the cool lake water.
"I don't want to go home," Naomi sighs. I nod in agreement. I don't either.
"Camp is like the one place I'm really happy, you know?" she continues. "Like it's the one place where I feel comfortable being me. Everyone is real and genuine and nobody judges. I'm me here. I honestly don't know how else to explain it."
"No, I know what you mean," I tell her. "I love that camp is like a common ground for everyone there, you know? Like you can start a conversation about like how long have you been going to camp? and work from there. And nobody looks at you like, why the hell are you talking to me, you fat bitch? It's awesome. And I've met some great people here too." I smile at Naomi. She squeezes my hand, then stands up and, without warning, takes a running start and jumps in the lake. I am astonished. She's not in a bathing suit or anything, just jean shorts and a white t-shirt.
"Get in the water, woman!" she shouts at me. I stare at her. Has she gone insane?
"Come on, Laura, it's the last day of camp. Live a little!" she says. I roll my eyes at her, but stand up and run down the dock, my bare feet slamming the wooden slats. When I reach the end of the dock, I leap and feel myself fly through the air.
It's an odd feeling, flying. For just a few seconds I am soaring through the air, completely free. I have just enough time to wonder if this is how birds feel all the time before gravity takes hold again and I plummet towards the water below me, and then my feet break the surface and then I am underwater, everything greeny-blue and cool and calming. Everything suspended. I don't have much air left, but before I resurface I wonder if it would be better to stay underwater, where no one can look at me except the fish and an occasional snapping turtle. But then I swim up to fresh air and Naomi splashes me and I splash her back.
After a while, I'm not sure exactly how long, we spot a snapping turtle and get out of the water as fast as we can. Snapping turtles in Silverwood Lake are notorious attackers. I'm not sure why.
Naomi's white shirt is clinging to her narrow frame, and I snicker.
"Classy," I say. She looks down.
"Damn it. I would pick today to wear a bra with Mickey Mouse on it," she groans.
"Scandalous!" I tease as we make our way back up the stairs to the cabins. Our laughter echoes in the hot summer air. I haven't laughed like that in a long time.
"I don't want to go home," Naomi sighs. I nod in agreement. I don't either.
"Camp is like the one place I'm really happy, you know?" she continues. "Like it's the one place where I feel comfortable being me. Everyone is real and genuine and nobody judges. I'm me here. I honestly don't know how else to explain it."
"No, I know what you mean," I tell her. "I love that camp is like a common ground for everyone there, you know? Like you can start a conversation about like how long have you been going to camp? and work from there. And nobody looks at you like, why the hell are you talking to me, you fat bitch? It's awesome. And I've met some great people here too." I smile at Naomi. She squeezes my hand, then stands up and, without warning, takes a running start and jumps in the lake. I am astonished. She's not in a bathing suit or anything, just jean shorts and a white t-shirt.
"Get in the water, woman!" she shouts at me. I stare at her. Has she gone insane?
"Come on, Laura, it's the last day of camp. Live a little!" she says. I roll my eyes at her, but stand up and run down the dock, my bare feet slamming the wooden slats. When I reach the end of the dock, I leap and feel myself fly through the air.
It's an odd feeling, flying. For just a few seconds I am soaring through the air, completely free. I have just enough time to wonder if this is how birds feel all the time before gravity takes hold again and I plummet towards the water below me, and then my feet break the surface and then I am underwater, everything greeny-blue and cool and calming. Everything suspended. I don't have much air left, but before I resurface I wonder if it would be better to stay underwater, where no one can look at me except the fish and an occasional snapping turtle. But then I swim up to fresh air and Naomi splashes me and I splash her back.
After a while, I'm not sure exactly how long, we spot a snapping turtle and get out of the water as fast as we can. Snapping turtles in Silverwood Lake are notorious attackers. I'm not sure why.
Naomi's white shirt is clinging to her narrow frame, and I snicker.
"Classy," I say. She looks down.
"Damn it. I would pick today to wear a bra with Mickey Mouse on it," she groans.
"Scandalous!" I tease as we make our way back up the stairs to the cabins. Our laughter echoes in the hot summer air. I haven't laughed like that in a long time.