Camp Firefly Sisters, Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Madeline
When Mckenna brought up the idea for me to be a camp counselor with her, my first instinct was to scoff and roll my eyes. Why would I want to spend two months sweating out in the middle of nowhere, dealing with bug bites, and being responsible for a bunch of overly energetic girls? It didn’t sound like my scene at all. There was a reason I had never gone to camp myself, as I much preferred spending my summers hanging out with my friends.
However, she brought up a few good points. In particular, the fact that Will would be around. But also, that counselors rotated responsibilities enough that the job was more lax than anywhere else I would work. Rather than a fifteen minute break, I could potentially have a couple hours to myself where I was getting paid to nap in a hammock or lounge in my air conditioned room. Also, Camp Firefly was only eight weeks long, with four different sets of campers along the way. That meant I’d have the entire month of August to myself without the pressure to work.
The morning of, I spent a good thirty minutes in the shower, assuming it would be the last good one I was going to have for a while. Though the counselor building had a nicer bathroom than the campers did, according to Mckenna, I doubted I’d have the perfect water pressure or consistent heat that I had in my private bathroom at home. Then I got to work straightening my long blonde hair, applying a touch of make-up, and going with one of the push-up bras I wore most of the time. I was still praying for a belated growth spurt, both in the height and curves department. So far, my younger sister has been the only one blessed in that regard.
There hadn’t been much to pack. All I really needed to worry about was bringing along a collection of comfortable bottoms, as Mckenna had explained that I’d mostly be wearing the shirts issued to me. I wasn’t that big into fashion anyway, though I did make sure to bring along a few cute sets of lingerie in case anything happened between me and Will. Other than that, filling my duffel bag had been a pretty simple task despite how we’d be gone for eight full weeks.
As we pulled into the parking lot where everyone was supposed to meet for the bus ride, I was already starting to dread the parts of being a counselor that I was not looking forward to. Like the sheer quantity of girls, most of whom were either saying goodbye to their parents or standing in the most disorderly line I had ever seen. Rather than single file, there were clumps of campers who know doubt knew each other from previous years, or were going together for the first time. And it was going to be my job to keep all these girls on task and on schedule while they distracted each other along the way.
It was clear that Mckenna was excited for camp. Literally the second the car was parked, she was jumping out and grabbing our bags. And calling me ‘Maddie.’
“It’s Madeline,” I corrected her. Even when we were younger, I never shortened my name. The occasional relative or acquaintance would go with the less mature nickname every now and then, to which I would politely point out my preference. Except my sister was well aware of what I was called, and was suddenly shortening my name anyway.
She just shrugged. “It’s camp, Maddie! Trust me, no one’s going to call you ‘Madeline’ here. That’s way too many syllables. You could be ‘Mads,’ I guess?”
“Or I could be ‘Madeline,’” I countered, “You know, my actual name?”
“Whatever. I was ‘Kenna’ in less than a week last year. What’s the saying, again? You don’t get to choose your own nickname?” Popping her head around the side of the car, she exclaimed, “Mom! Dad! Want to say goodbye here? It’ll be less crazy getting out of here if you go now.”
She looked ridiculous with one duffel on each shoulder on top of her backpack. Though if she wanted to carry half my stuff, I wasn’t going to complain. I was going to have another conversation with her about the nickname she had sprung on me. It was one thing if it ended up happening organically, which I would of course make an effort to prevent. It would be something else entirely if Mckenna was the catalyst; if my sister called me ‘Maddie,’ then anyone witnessing that would assume that I actually went by the shortened version.
Our parents agreed with Mckenna’s point. If they waited for the bus to leave, then they would be stuck in the traffic of all the other parents heading out at the same time afterwards. I also didn’t mind the suggestion, as my sister and I were both a bit too old for our parents to be waving at us as the bus pulled out of the parking lot.
Once we were on our own, Mckenna led the way towards the chaos. In less than a minute, an annoying amount of campers were smiling and greeting her while I awkwardly trailed behind as she walked towards one of the tables off to the side. A single counselor was there, denoted by the bright red Camp Firefly polo she was wearing. “Hey, Kenna!” she exclaimed, “Oh, this must be your sister.”
“Yep, this is Maddie. It’s her first year!” Mckenna replied, with the same kind of peppy energy, “Can we sign her in here, or should she line up with the other girls?”
For the love of- “It’s ‘Madeline,’” I said, right away.
“Don’t be rude, Maddie,” Mckenna said, “Sorry, Alex. She can be a little immature sometimes. Well, most of the time.”
“It’s fine,” Alex smiled, “Welcome to Camp Firefly, Maddie. And no, I can’t sign her in. She’s rising 7th, right? You’ll want to go two lines down. Pixie’s table, I think.”
Sorry, what? As in, 7th grade? Mckenna must have seen the look on my face, and proceeded to misinterpret it entirely. “Oh, ‘Pixie’ isn’t her actual name. It’s this inside joke from a few years ago that turned into an actual thing. Long story! Anyway, let’s get you where you need to go. Thanks, Alex! I’ll be back in a minute. Wait, can I leave these here?” She shrugged off the two duffel bags and tucked them behind Alex’s table, then took my hand, “Come on, sis. This way!”
She had always been more touchy than I was. Not like this, however. “Mckenna!” Yanking my hand free of hers after she had tugged me away from the other girl, I said, “Stop calling me ‘Maddie.’ And where are we going?”
Mckenna huffed and crossed her arms. “I told you, Maddie. Nicknames are totally a thing here. And I don’t like ‘Mads’ that much, so . . . ”
“So, use my full name. I can at least try to go by ‘Madeline.’ You’re not even giving it a chance.”
“I could say the same for you. You wanted to go to camp, Maddie. This is part of the camp experience. Now, can we please get you in line? You don’t want to be the last girl signed in, do you?”
Such a brat. She was normally more mature than this; maybe camp had that effect on her. I was stunned she responded to all of my corrections by just addressing me by the nickname anyway. Rude. For the time being, I let the subject change, as I also wanted to ask about where I was being sent. “Did Alex mean rising 7th graders?” I asked.
“Mm hmm,” Mckenna nodded, “That’s the group you’re going to be with for the next two weeks, I’m guessing. After that, we’ll have to see what happens.”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t counselors have their own sign-in table?” That’s what I had assumed Alex was there for. It didn’t make any sense for me to line up with the girls I’d be overseeing.
She shrugged again. “It’s a dumb process. You’re literally brand new to Camp Firefly, sis. Once you get through the line and check in, we can worry about the rest. I’m a returning counselor, so things are a little different for me.”
Umm, okay. I couldn’t really question things too much. Like Mckenna said, this was all new to me. I had no idea how any of it worked. “Whatever,” I said, “Can I at least skip to the front?”
“And what kind of example would that set for the rest of the girls?” she pointed out, “You need to wait in line with the rest of the girls, Maddie. You’re basically a camper, being new and all. Patience is something we work on with Fireflies like you.”
“They’re called ‘Fireflies?’” I scoffed.
“You’re a Firefly, too, sis. Try to embrace the camp experience! Now, do you need me to walk you to your line, or can you find it yourself?”
“I think I can manage.” It really wasn’t that difficult to find a table when everything in the parking lot was labeled.
Despite her teasing and bubbly energy about this being my first time at camp, she didn’t insist on escorting me the rest of the way. Probably because she was more interested in hanging out with Alex and whatever other girls she knew from previous years. Mckenna wasted no time in bounding off for the table we had started at, leaving me to meander through the chaos around me.
Though the lines weren’t particularly line-like, I could at least distinguish them from each other. No doubt because years of doing this taught those in charge to leave a big gap between each table to avoid confusion.
It seemed like everything was set up according to age, with the youngest group of campers at the far left. Like Alex had informed us, my line was second from the right. It made sense that rising 8th graders would be the last group, as my sister had been a counselor when she was fifteen. My guess was that she had been put in charge of the younger crowd, as it would be difficult to be seen as an authority figure by girls she was practically the same age as. That was one advantage I had, and perhaps why I was going to be in charge of an older group. I was new, so they would only see me as a counselor, rather than a camper who had aged out.
I wasn’t particularly excited to wait in line. Despite what Mckenna said, I was tempted to skip to the front. What was her name again? Pixie? Almost as ridiculous as calling the campers ‘fireflies.’ Maybe she would be more inclined to help out a fellow counselor. On the other hand, I didn’t want to make a bad first impression to a girl who had been involved with the camp for a few years. She could be just as opinionated as Mckenna when it came to virtues like patience.
Deciding to just suck it up, I walked to the back of the line. There were at least thirty girls ahead of me. I pulled out my phone to kill some time, simultaneously making the most out of the consistent service I had. According to Mckenna, reception was spotty at Camp Firefly. Apparently receiving messages was a lot easier than sending them. An unexpected bar or two would be enough for a phone to play catch-up on belated notifications, but usually in the middle of an activity when counselors wouldn’t be looking at their devices. I had already braced both myself and my friends for the fact that I would be partially off the grid, so this was really my last chance to use my phone properly. I doubted I’d be texting much on the bus, as that was easily the worst vehicle when it came to carsickness.
It wasn’t long before a few girls were lining up behind me, leaving me sandwiched between two separate groups that were chattering away. I wasn’t really trying to eavesdrop as I stared at my phone, though neither circle of girls was being particularly quiet. Were any of them aware that I was a counselor? The small group in front of me was excitedly talking about how they had snuck across the river last year to hang out with some of the boys after curfew, and their plans to do something similar this summer.
I had half a mind to clear my throat and inform them how obvious they were being. At the same time, I really didn’t care. This job was mostly about the easy money, as well as proximity to my crush. If a few girls wanted to break curfew, I wasn’t going to bust them unless they were just as obvious about it later on. I was also low key taking notes. Maybe Will and I could steal away after curfew? I’m sure it wasn’t nearly as big of a deal for counselors to do so.
The line was moving surprisingly quickly. Then again, everyone here had already done registration or whatever. Signing in was probably just a matter of giving a name and being given a folder and a stack of camper tees. That’s the process I was observing as I approached the front, anyway. My guess was that the folder was some combination of each camper’s schedule, camp rules, etc. etc.
When I was maybe five girls away from the sign-in table, Mckenna appeared beside me. “Almost there, Maddie!” she smiled. With no warning, she plucked my phone out of my hand. “I’ll hold onto this for you, sis. We discourage girls from bringing these, anyway.”
“Hey! Mckenna-” I didn’t even know what to say, and also didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone. “Give it back.” Not the most mature response, but it was all I could think of in the moment.
“I will. Later.” Shooting me a wink, she swiveled on her heel and walked away.
What the actual fuck? She just took my phone. For no reason! I wanted to chase her down to get it back, except I had just spent so long waiting in line. There were so many girls behind me, and there was no guarantee my spot would be here for me when I made it back. Was this some kind prank or hazing or whatever, or was she just being a brat? It was so stupid. I was already about to be at camp and barely able to use my phone, anyway.
Frowning in annoyance, I decided to stay. Once I was signed in, I could track Mckenna down and give her an earful about blatantly stealing something that was so personal to just about every girl our age. It didn’t matter that she said she would return it; she never should have taken it from me in the first place.
Three girls to go. I needed to make sure that my frustration towards Mckenna’s actions weren’t directed towards the counselor at the desk. First impressions and all.
Pixie was sitting behind the desk at the front of the line. Long red hair, a counselor polo, and a name tag sticker that informed me that she was the girl Alex referenced, complete with a heart over the first ‘i’ in her name. “Ooh, new camper!” she exclaimed, “Welcome to Camp Firefly. Last name?”
Did all the counselors have this kind of energy? Hopefully I’d be able to find one or two that were more like me. “Counselor, actually. Lewis.”
She tilted her head slightly. “Wrong line, babe. Sorry! You should be two tables down. I think Alex is checking counselors in?”
Umm, what? “Alex said this was my line,” I muttered. For fuck’s sake. If this was another prank, or even a simple mistake, I was going to be pissed.
“Huh. You said Lewis, right?” She glanced down at the list of names in front of her. Turning the page and tracing towards the L’s with her index finger after I affirmed what she repeated, Pixie found what she was looking for. “Maddie? Megan? Rachel?”
“Madeline.” It didn’t actually say ‘Maddie’ on the sheet, did it? Though if the redhead before me just auto-abbreviated my name, that only served to prove Mckenna’s point about nicknames being an unavoidable thing at camp.
Pixie looked up from the list, still looking a little confused. “You said you’re a counselor?”
“Yeah. Maybe Mckenna mentioned me? She’s my sister.”
“Oh!” she smiled, “Right. She was asking about a last minute registration for you. But I should warn you if Kenna didn’t, I doubt anyone will consider you for a junior counselor opportunity this year. We usually just do that for returning campers who are already familiar with Camp Firefly. Maybe your sister could swing an informal something for you along the way, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“What? No, I’m an actual counselor,” I said, “Same as Mckenna.”
“But, you’re-” Pixie hesitated, giving me a pretty blatant once-over as she processed what I was trying to tell her. Then her demeanor shifted and she gave me a soft smile. “Of course. I’m sure it’s a simple paperwork issue. Tell you what, Maddie. Do me a favor and take these?” She pulled out a small stack of the light blue camper t-shirts I had seen her handing out to everyone who had been in line in front of me, followed by a folder in a matching color.
“Umm, why?” I asked. There was no reason for me to take what the other girls had. Unlike them, I wasn’t a camper.
“Inventory will be a lot easier this way, trust me. Here, just take these and go find Mckenna.”
“But-”
“Sorry, Maddie. I need to keep things moving. Next!”
Reluctantly taking the shirts and folder, I stepped away from the table, feeling more confused than she had looked a moment ago. Why was I on the camper list, and why hadn’t Pixie made more of an effort to resolve the mix-up?
She was right about one thing–I needed to find Mckenna.