Camp Firefly, Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Outdoor Dodgeball wasn’t something I had ever seen before, not that I had played the game since middle school. Even then, I wasn’t particularly sporty; gym activities like that were more for the boys, as well as whatever girls were into all that. My friends and I much preferred the days that revolved around light cardio, where we could put in as much effort as we felt like.
It took a minute to find my bunkmates amidst all the other girls wearing the same color. Naturally, they asked what ‘Kenna’ wanted. Tweens and their gossip. I just made up some half-truth about her wanting to check in with me; it didn’t take much to convince them that I was annoyed at her for being an overbearing sister, considering how I genuinely was annoyed at her. To put it lightly.
Once everyone was gathered, Pixie stood up on a large wooden box I had to assume she and the other counselors hauled around to use whenever they needed to be seen and didn’t have a better way to have the eyes of all the campers present. “Good morning, Fireflies!” she projected, while the other counselors strewn about the area assisted in shushing those who were still distracted. “Who’s ready for the first ranked game?!”
Fuck, the cheering was so shrill. I managed to contort my grimace into a reluctant smile by the time Bailey glanced my way. It wasn’t her fault I was stuck here like this, and she’d been nothing but friendly and welcoming since sitting next to me on the bus. While I was never going to have the peppy energy so many of the campers and counselors did, I could at least play nice when it came to the girls in my circle. Especially those in my cabin.
Pixie then gestured to Gwen, who was getting up on a box of her own. The head counselor greeted everyone in an equally enthusiastic manner, then launched into an explanation about the camp-wide competition that my bunkmates had already given me the highlights of yesterday. Ranked games, a trophy, whatever. It didn’t sound like there was even a real prize, outside of bragging rights for being the best circle when all was said and done.
The explanation was mostly for the rising 6th girls, as well as new campers in the older groups who hadn’t yet heard about the trophy stuff. Once Gwen was done with the big picture, she turned the floor back to Pixie.
It was all pretty standard. Get hit, and you were out. Catch a ball, and the girl who threw it was out. A single step outside the boundary lines also meant that you were out, so being on the edges meant limited dodging options. As for the fact that there were no walls for the balls to bounce off of, the game would start with each team having a couple counselors there to retrieve whatever was thrown too far. Once even a single girl was out, however, it was the responsibility of those teammates to keep those still in play armed with balls to throw.
I could see the logic behind Pixie’s system. Instead of participating campers simply sitting on the sidelines and waiting for the round to end, they would continue to play an important role in their team’s success. That, and it subtly encouraged groups to learn each other’s names due to how those still on the outdoor court would have their backs to the girls who were retrieving the balls.
While it was great for team building and whatever, it wasn’t so great for me. Even if I did make a show of actually trying, per Mckenna’s little chat with me, I had been assuming up until now that I’d still be one of the first girls out and could proceed to take a break. Instead, there would arguably be more running involved if that happened. There was also the part about my sister letting me off the hook if my team actually won, which did motivate me to put forth more effort than I normally would when it came to something like this. In reality, I wasn’t going to be the one to make or break things on that front; it would all depend on how good the rest of Circle B was.
She went on to touch on details about it being double elimination, and how there was only one large Dodgeball court that had been painted in the open field. Whenever teams weren’t playing, they were welcome to spectate or go off and strategize for their coming round. “Let’s start with some rising 6th girls getting destroyed, or maybe some rising 8th girls getting embarrassed,” Pixie said, “First up, Circle C vs. Circle E. Go ahead and take your places; we’ll give you a couple minutes with your teammates while we finish getting set up. Everyone else, stay behind the orange lines if you want to watch.”
“Let’s get everyone from Circle B together!” Bailey exclaimed. Most of our cabin was already present, and she led the charge to group up with all the campers who had been at our fire last night. She and one other girl ended up sharing the responsibility of being ‘in charge,’ both of whom thought it was more useful to head off to the edge of the field and figure out a game plan instead of watching the round between the older and younger fireflies that would almost certainly end with the former team winning out.
We were all told to raise our hands if we considered ourselves to be good at throwing or catching, neither of which I trusted myself to do in this context. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only less than athletic girl in our group of thirty or so. There would never really be a perfect strategy for a team of girls who had practically just met, for a game as chaotic as Dodgeball, but the general plan was those that didn’t raise their hands to be the ones who were handed balls by the girls who were out. That way, both the catchers and the weak links like myself would constantly be keeping the strong throwers armed.
I was just going to have to trust my team to do a good job. Regardless of the plan or the execution, my contributions were the least important.
A minute or two later, cheers erupted from the other side of the field. Sure enough, the rising 8th girls from Circle C ended up winning. We were up next, going against the other circle of rising 8th campers. I was sure Pixie set it up like this to create some natural competition between the different grades even though just one circle would end up winning at the end.
We made our way over to the grassy court, where it seemed like we had a much bigger audience than the pairing before us. If most of the other teams had already done the kind of strategizing that we did, they could now use this time to figure out who the strongest players were on either side. That, and a rising 7th vs. rising 8th pairing was a little more interesting than what the previous game had been.
Pixie and a few other counselors had just reset things from the last round. There were 10-15 foam balls on the middle line; I was grateful to see that Camp Firefly had taken the more modern approach with their equipment, as I didn’t want to be pelted with the rubber balls places used to have.
Since we had already been given plenty of time to figure things out, us and the opposing team were told to line up right away. Bailey and our other unofficial ‘captain’ were giving last minute words of encouragement along the way. “We’ve got this, Maddie!” she exclaimed, giving my hip a playful bump with her own as she took a starting spot next to me.
Madeline. I thought it, but didn’t say it. Instead, I just forced a smile and said, “Let’s win.” Not because I cared about some trophy. I just wanted Mckenna to give me what she promised.
Things quieted down when Pixie stepped up to the edge of the court, staying out of the way since both teams would be charging towards the middle in a moment. “Only one of you gets to stay in the winner’s bracket!” she reminded us, “Oh, and when a counselor calls you out, you’re out. No whining or arguing, or one of your teammates will leave the court with you as a penalty. Any last minute questions?”
When no one raised a hand, Pixie stepped back with a smile and told us all to get ready.
After glancing back and forth to make sure we were all behind the line, as well as checking that the counselors who would initially be helping out were in place, she shouted, “GO!!”
More than half the campers on each team sprinted forward, and chaos erupted in the middle of the court as several girls on each side were thrown out within seconds. The thing Pixie had come up with regarding counselors retrieving balls that flew too far must have been a ‘just in case’ measure, since both teams already had girls for that role.
I didn’t last very long. Hanging back and standing there awkwardly wasn’t going to do me any favors where Mckenna was involved, plus my teammates would probably judge me for not participating as well. Since I was one of the girls who didn’t trust herself to catch or throw, I made myself useful by stopping a ball or two that would have rolled out of our side and handing them to girls from my cabin. While Pixie might have intended this as a name-learning exercise, I was still finding it difficult enough to remember all the names of the girls I had bunked with last night, let alone the other campers from our circle.
After dodging one or two balls that may or may not have been intended for me, making an embarrassing little squeak of surprise each time that I was praying no one around me heard, one of the girls on the opposing team finally got a direct hit. The red ball hit me square in the boob, and the foam wasn’t nearly as soft when it had been thrown by a girl with an impressive arm.
Fucking OW.
Before I could really process my struck breast, one of the counselors yelled, “Maddie, you’re out!” Pixie and a few others had been doing that all game, which is something I vaguely remembered happening at school as well. With so much happening at once, calling players out like that meant they wouldn’t try to claim that an out never happened or whatever.
I hastily left the court, not wanting to be accidentally hit by a ball that was intended for someone else. The girls who were already out had formed something of a human wall a few feet behind the line, which was definitely more efficient than chasing after every ball that was thrown too far. I joined on the end, glad to be standing in an area that was more safe and calm by comparison. My boob still hurt a little bit, but it had really been more surprise than pain a minute ago now that the moment had passed.
Our team had seven girls left–nope, six girls left thanks to how someone on the other side caught the ball one of our girls just threw–and their team had five. Anyone’s game, honestly. As I watched the back and forth, not having anything else to do until something came my way, I realized that I was sweating. Ugh. A drop on my brow, and a faint dampness in my armpits. I hadn’t even done that much, physically. This field just had no tree cover, and the summer sun was a lot. This was why AC existed. And why the counselors had those athletic polos, while campers were stuck with these cotton tees that didn’t breathe nearly as well.
It wasn’t like I could do anything about it, save for planning ahead. Changing into a fresh t-shirt at lunch, opting for shade when possible, and showering at night from now on. I was supposed to be paid for suffering through a more outdoorsy setting, but I was stuck experiencing it from the wrong side. It seemed like there was another inconvenience/irritation to worry about with every passing hour.
I did have some hope. Our team managed to pull off a win, with two girls standing against the other side’s zero after the last girl was hit. While I didn’t cheer nearly as enthusiastically as those around me, I let out a sigh of relief and forced a small smile when Bailey glanced my way. If we could beat the 8th grade campers, then surely we’d do well against whatever circle of 6th or 7th girls we were playing against next.
While Dodgeball was a rather fast paced game, it still took a while to get through the bracket Pixie had set up. Double elimination meant basically starting over once the first round of match-ups made it all the way to the last game. It especially hurt for our team, since we made it to the end of the first bracket only to lose to the 8th grade campers who had played first while we were figuring out our game plan.
At the end of the losers’ bracket, we then lost to the 8th grade team that we had beaten the first time around. Third place. The girls on my team were somewhat disappointed, though the returning campers amongst us pointed out that placing in the top three is still pretty good. Obviously not as many points as we would have received for first, but a considerable lead on the rest of the circles.
As for me, it wasn’t about the trophy in the slightest. I was solely thinking about how I could convince Mckenna that third place was close enough, considering that the oldest campers were the ones to take first and second. Surely doing the best out of all the 7th grade circles counted for something, even if my own contributions to those wins were fairly nonexistent compared to the girls on my team that secured all those wins for us.
Before I got much of a chance to look around for my sister, the head counselor stood on one of the makeshift podiums and got everyone’s attention. “Good effort from everyone! Remember, each ranked game is totally different. You all have plenty of time to catch up to Circle D.” She paused when the team of 8th graders cheered amongst themselves, then went on to announce that lunch was in about thirty minutes. Until then, campers had a little free time to head back to their circles, use the bathroom, hang out, whatever. “Make sure you check out your cabin’s schedule for this afternoon!”
So much for finding Mckenna right away. Though the counselor polos stood out fairly well, the girls in charge were spread out amidst all the campers in the field. A couple of them stuck around to clean up the Dodgeball gear, while the rest were making sure everyone didn’t stray too far from the path as they returned to the main area of Camp Firefly. On top of that, the girls from my cabin were gathering and roping me into their conversation; thanks to the ‘buddy system,’ I couldn’t just ignore them and roam off on my own.
My hair was a mess from the humidity, my body was a mess from the sweating, and I was half tempted to squeeze in a quick shower during the short break. If it weren’t for the physical similarities between us, I would find it difficult to believe that Mckenna and I were even related. How could any sibling of mine enjoy the outdoors so much? Summer was easily the worst season, in my opinion.
“Let’s go, Maddie!” Bailey’s cheery voice broke me out of my annoyed thoughts. She and the others were practically speed-walking.
For now, I was just going to have to tag along with the familiar group of girls. Hopefully, whatever activities were in store for us in the afternoon would be more chill.
Until I had an opportunity to talk with Mckenna again, I was going to have to keep pretending to be a camper.