Camp Wakiki

Trista Hill groaned as she rolled over, pulling her pillow close and hugging it to her chest as she did. For a moment she was content, warm and comfortable in her bed until it sunk in and hit her: she wasn’t at home, this wasn’t your regular summer day. Jolting awake, she quickly pulled herself into a sitting position and glanced around. The little room was pretty drab; dark brown wood with only two windows and a door that led into the main room where her campers, if they were here, would be sleeping.

Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she let out a sigh of relief to see that she still had ten minutes before she had to be down at the main building where the campers would be arriving. The girl quickly combed her fingers through her hair and tied it off in a messy side braid before finally slipping out of the bed. After grabbing one of the many colored camp t-shirts she was given upon arrival yesterday, she quickly slipped the purple tee over her head and grabbed the nearest pair of shorts before heading into the tiny adjoining bathroom to rinse her mouth with some mouthwash. There wasn’t enough time for a proper brushing, a realization that made Trista cringe but she pushed through it and headed for the main building.

This had really never been part of the plan. Trista finally had the house to herself with her siblings finally moving out and she planned to take full advantage of that. But then Zayn mentioned the camp and how he’d been working there for a few years now and how she should apply because it’d be fun to work together for the summer. If it were anyone else she would have blown him off and said no. But it was Zayn Malik. The guy she’d had her eye on since the beginning of time, it seemed. And for him she’d go out of her comfort zone. Trista just hoped that it’d pay off.

The other counselors were already waiting down at the main building by the time she arrived. She spotted Zayn immediately; he was standing with a cute guy with a buzz cut and the gorgeous girl that was wrapped around him. Their eyes met briefly and Zayn smiled warmly before waving her over. The two people he was standing with turned their attention to her but Trista ignored it as she made her way to Zayn.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” Zayn greeted once she reached him.

Trista shrugged. “I didn’t have much else going on this summer.”

Zayn nodded before tilting his head toward his friends. “This is my best mate Liam,” he said, pausing for a moment as Liam and Trista nodded at each other, “and his girl Violet.” Trista thought he sounded bitter about that but she stamped it down and wrote it off as her jealous imagination turning every girl into competition.

“Nice to meet you,” she greeted with a warm smile.

The couple returned her sentiment but before their conversation could travel any further four busses pulled up. Sliding into line next to Zayn, Trista watched with everyone else as the campers spilled out of the busses. Mr. Ellison and his executive staff guided the campers out to the field in front of the main building before separating them into their age groups: 6-7, 8-9, 10-12 and 13-14. Once they were all split up the counselors were split into their age groups and handed a card with their campers’ names.
Trista was with the little kids. The 6-7 year olds. Despite knowing this before she even arrived yesterday she still wasn’t prepared and ready to take care of the youngest kids at the camp. Wasn’t it six and seven year olds that did weird things like shoving coins and legos and other things up their noses? She was at least thankful that she only had ten little girls to handle; if it were boys she’d be running yelling and screaming into the woods right about now.

Walking over to where the 6-7 year olds were she observed the group. There was a gorgeous curly haired guy kneeling down in front of one of the boys with a group of others around him – he had to be one of the male counselors for this group. The other two counselors were huddled together talking, making no effort to round up their kids. Trista shook her head and opened her mouth to say something to them before she felt a soft tug on the hem of her shorts.

A little girl that didn’t look a day over five was standing there, looking up at her with big brown eyes and braids that were longer than Trista’s. Kneeling down to the girl’s level, she smiled.

“What is it?” She asked softly.

“We were just wondering why your hair is blue.” The little girl said as her cute, innocent smile fell away. A devilish one took its place and Trista laughed as she stood back up. Her fingers absently trailed over the green and blue tips of her hair and shook her head. She knew she should have gotten rid of it before camp but it was too late now, it’d just have to fade out over the summer.

“I’m Trista,” she announced to the girls. If I call your name, please step forward and join me, okay?” The girls nodded and Trista began listing off the names on her list. One by one the girls stepped forward and surrounded her. She counted them just to make sure and as soon as she saw that she had ten she made them tell her their names so she could make sure she had the right kids. Once she was done she glanced around to see that nearly all of the other groups were organized but she had no idea what she was supposed to do now.

“Hey,” she called out to the curly haired boy who was still kneeling down on the ground, this time talking to another little boy. He glanced up and frowned at her but she pressed forward. “What now?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you pay attention yesterday?”

Of course she had. Kind of. Mostly Trista spent the meeting looking at Zayn and watching him but she didn’t think being a counselor could really be that hard.

“Yes,” she retorted. “I’m just wondering how long we’re going to have to stand out here.”

“We wait for the groups to be sorted and then we go to breakfast before breaking up for the first activity.” The guy shook his head again and Trista got the feeling that he wasn’t the type to mess around when it came to work. “At least read your schedule.”

Schedule? What schedule? Trista turned away and looked back at her little group. To their credit, the girls were all talking like they were old friends but she figured that had something to do with their age. They weren’t yet exposed to petty differences and the art of disliking another girl just because her clothes were better than yours. Certain that one wasn’t going to just wander off, she allowed herself to think back on the meeting and then the party. She didn’t remember anything about a schedule. Maybe she’d just have to wing it for now and hope that she didn’t get into any serious trouble.

Before she could really give it any serious thought Doug Ellison was talking into a megaphone and groups were suddenly on the move. Taking the hands of the two girls that suddenly grabbed hers, Trista followed the groups and prayed that the mess hall would wield more answers than the field did.