Secrets of Camp Tortuga: Episode 1

ALEXIA

The sun, a golden orb in the sky, was nearing its descent, casting a warm, amber hue over Camp Tortuga. I paused, letting its soft glow kiss my cheeks as I pulled my thick curls into a high ponytail. Adjusting the camp counselor shirt, its fabric slightly rough yet familiar, memories from past summers rushed back.

Camp Tortuga wasn't just a place; it was my sanctuary. Nestled away from the constant unpredictability of inner-city life, it was here that I had first tasted freedom as a fifth-grader. The vast expanse of green, the laughter of children, the glistening water of the lake—Tortuga was an oasis. A place where I could lay on the grass without the jarring blare of sirens, where I could meet souls from worlds I had never known, and most importantly, where I could be Alexia—unburdened, unfiltered, and free.

A soft breeze ruffled the trees, making the leaves whisper their secrets. While most of my peers were gearing up for summer parties and last-minute college prep, the call of Tortuga had been too powerful to ignore. College awaited me in the fall—a new chapter, filled with its own promises and challenges. But before I turned that page, I needed to come back to where it all started, to give back and perhaps find pieces of myself I didn’t know I'd left behind.

The bustle of the compound enveloped me, counselors and campers alike gearing up for the welcome ceremony. It had been so long since I’d been among these familiar sounds and scents, and anticipation bubbled within me. But it wasn't the prospect of the campfire or the upcoming activities that had my heart racing. It was the possibility of seeing him.

Then, like a scene from a movie, I spotted him in a crowd—Noah. His once boyish features had evolved, making way for chiseled cheekbones and a more refined demeanor. Yet, that playful spark, the one that reminded me of summer rain and stolen glances, still twinkled in his eyes. When our gazes locked, it was as if the universe granted us a momentary pause, a beat of silence amidst the chaos.

"Lexi," he called out, his voice deeper but the familiar grin giving away his playful side.

I tried to respond nonchalantly, but my voice wavered just a touch. "Noah."

Every summer since 9th grade, Camp Tortuga had been our shared escape—a place away from school hierarchies and teenage angst. We had built a world of canoe adventures, sung off-key campfire songs, and whispered secrets under a canopy of stars. The air between us had always crackled with an energy I couldn't name. Maybe it was friendship, or maybe it was something deeper, a chord of connection neither of us had dared to strike.

The juxtaposition of our lives was almost comical. While my world was confined to a cramped apartment with the steady lullaby of sirens and city noises, Noah hailed from picture-perfect suburbs, where the loudest sound might be the chirping of crickets or a lawnmower on a Sunday afternoon.

Noah, with his polished manners and penchant for extracurriculars that I’d only read about in magazines, seemed galaxies away from my reality. I was the girl with hand-me-downs, always grateful for the camp sponsorship that let me taste a sliver of a world beyond my own. He, on the other hand, had tales of his four-bedroom house, replete with that almost clichéd white picket fence. The kind of house that seemed to belong in those movies I’d sneakily watch late at night.

While I constantly navigated the challenges of sharing a room with both my sisters, Noah painted stories of his solo kingdom – a room filled with posters, music, and an unending supply of books. He had privileges, yes, but what endeared him to me was his genuine warmth. He wore his affluence with grace, and he listened - truly listened - to my stories as well.

Every summer, our worlds would collide at Camp Tortuga, and it became our shared universe. As much as I cherished our time together, the looming end of camp always cast a shadow over my joy. The bus ride back home was my annual heartbreak ritual. But the pull of another summer, another rendezvous always gave me hope.

Lost in the bittersweet dance of these memories, Mrs. Marshall’s voice startled me. "Alexia, Noah, the bus is waiting for you."

“The bus?” The confusion must’ve been evident on my face.

Mrs. Marshall chuckled, “Remember? We need a few items from the town for tonight's welcoming ceremony. Noah volunteered and mentioned you’d probably accompany him. Was I misinformed?”

I glanced at Noah, who wore a mischievous yet bashful grin. That familiar playful look in his eyes. Trying to hide my blush, I played along, "Oh, right! Just slipped my mind with all the summer excitement, Mrs. Marshall."

She waved us off with a smile. "Just make it back soon!"

As we ambled towards that ancient bus, a relic from the 80s that Camp Tortuga stubbornly held onto, I couldn’t help but revel in the adventure that awaited us.

As I slid into the worn-out seat beside Noah, the distinct aroma of leather and memories hit me, causing a flurry of past camp rides to flood my mind. The old bus had a charm, an ancient dignity that newer vehicles lacked. It was an odd companion for our little mission, but it felt oddly right.

I quipped, adjusting the ancient seatbelt that seemed to have a mind of its own, "What made you figure I wanted to ride with you?"

He chuckled, his fingers dancing over the dashboard as he brought the bus to life. "Come on, Lexi. You can't tell me you'd pass up the chance to spend quality time with me and this... classic ride."

I mock sighed, rolling my eyes. "It's tolerable, I suppose," I said, trying to maintain a neutral tone, but the playful edge probably gave me away.

With the gentle hum of the old engine as our background score, I rummaged through the glove box, finding an eclectic mix of cassette tapes and CDs, each one a testament to the decades this bus had witnessed.

"Find any golden oldies in there?" Noah inquired, his gaze briefly flitting from the road to me.

I shook my head, amused. "Nothing good," I closed the glove box with a soft thud. I turned my gaze to the passing scenery, if only to avoid getting lost in the increasingly attractive profile of the guy next to me. How did Noah manage to grow more good looking each summer? Was it some kind of sorcery?

Lost in these thoughts, Noah's voice broke through my daydream. "Can you believe it? We’re heading to college. Feels like just yesterday we were running three-legged races together, huh?" he chuckled.

I turned to him, appreciating the ease of our conversation. It was always like this with us—comfortable, even in the silences. But today, the proximity, the shared nostalgia, and the promise of a new beginning made it all the more special.

I laughed, "How could I forget us tumbling at the finish line?"

The gentle hum of the bus's engine seemed to fade as Noah recounted memories from a summer long ago. “Remember when Marcus couldn’t handle the boat ride and threw up? Right onto Myriam’s brand-new Nikes!”

A genuine laugh escaped my lips, a feeling of nostalgia washing over me. "Oh my gosh, yes! She was so mad. Those were the days.”

His eyes lit up with a combination of amusement and pride. "And now, here we are, not just camp attendees but Camp Counselors. Adults out here!” He paused, a playful smirk forming. "We've come a long way, haven’t we? By the way, where are you heading off to college?"

The jovial atmosphere suddenly shifted as a weight settled in my chest. My next step wasn't as glamorous as some. "It's just a local community college,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. College dreams had always been grand, but life, as it often did, had other plans. My older sister's financial aid misadventures hung over our family like a persistent cloud, with bill collectors frequently interrupting our evenings. I couldn’t ask for more from Mama; she had given all she could. And now, every dollar I earned at Camp Tortuga would go straight into my college fund, and so would all the money I’d make at my new job around the way that I’d be starting once I returned home.

Noah sensed my unease. In a tender gesture, he reached over, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Lexi, be proud of where you're going. Own it. It’s still an accomplishment."

I tried to keep my composure, but the warmth of his hand, the earnestness in his eyes— it was a bit overwhelming. All I could muster was a soft "Thanks." As I met his gaze, I wished for a moment that he'd focus on the road. But the truth was, being seen, truly seen by Noah in that moment, meant everything.

The tender moment soon gave way to an unexpected interruption. The bus sputtered and died, leaving us stranded. My heart raced, not from panic but from the realization that we were truly alone.

Noah's voice broke the silence. "Shit! Seems like we're stuck here for a while.", he said trying to start the van with no luck.

We both got out of the van and stood in front of it. I kicked it a couple times.

“Chill out on those professional mechanic skills.”, Noah said sarcastically.

I laughed.

Recalling an old memory, I mused, "This feels like that night we got lost in the woods."

Noah smirked. "Wasn’t it your navigation skills that got us lost that time?"

Our laughter reverberated through the empty road, a testament to our shared history and the ease of our friendship. Stranded by the side of the road with a van that refused to cooperate, there was no one else I'd rather be with in this situation than Noah.

From his pocket, he pulled out a sleek device— a cell phone. It was still a luxury in 2000, a status symbol for many. Something I hoped to have once I started a real career. I watched, amused, as he raised it above his head, trying to catch a signal in the middle of nowhere.

"No luck," he grumbled, his face a mix of frustration and resignation. "No signal."

I smirked, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought those things were supposed to make life easier. What's the point if it doesn't even work when you need it?"

He chuckled, sliding the phone back into his pocket. "Good point, Lexi."

We both leaned against the side of the defiant van, feeling its warmth. The hum of nature was the only sound accompanying our shared silence.

"I guess we play the waiting game," Noah sighed, looking down the empty road, hoping for a vehicle. "Someone’s bound to drive by eventually and help us out."

I nodded, glancing at him. "In the meantime, it's just you, me, and the open road."

After a minute or so, Noah’s energy shifted, making the outside feel like a small room.

"I've always wondered, Lexi... did you ever feel something more between us?"

Of course. I’ve liked you for as far back as I can remember I wanted to tell him.

His words mirrored my own heart's whispers. "Yes," I admitted.

The way Noah's eyebrow arched and the depth in his gaze made my heart race. There was a question in those eyes, a curiosity, a challenge. For a moment, the world shrank down to the two of us. The allure of being Noah's girl, especially in this place that held so much meaning for us, was almost irresistible. This summer at Camp Tortuga could be the time to finally explore the feelings that had simmered beneath the surface for years.

But then, like a cold splash of lake water, reality set in. How could I have momentarily forgotten Ian? Sweet, persistent Ian. My lab partner with the dimpled smile and the infectious laugh, who had been harboring a crush on me all throughout our senior year. The memories from prom night swirled in my mind – the laughter, the dancing, the gentle touch of his hand on the small of my back. And by the end of the night, beneath the canopy of fairy lights, he had asked me to be his girlfriend.

It's true we hadn't seen much of each other since that magical evening, what with him traveling down south to visit family, but our nightly phone calls kept the connection alive. Every sweet "goodnight" and "I miss you" echoed in my ears now, making me question everything.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I was entangled in a web of emotions I hadn't anticipated. The timing, as they say, was truly impeccable.

“What’s wrong?”, Noah asked, “You look sick to your stomach to admit that”

“No, it’s just…there’s someone else back home.", I said with a pain in the stomach as I looked at the ground and kicked dirt around before meeting his gaze.

Noah’s eyes searched mine. "Oh. Does he make you happy?"

I hesitated, then whispered, "He's cool, Noah. But with you... it's always been different. You know that, right?"

The van's quiet created a backdrop to a moment that felt like it held so much weight. Noah's voice was low, filled with a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before. “You know, Lexi, this summer... before college changes everything, I thought maybe we could... figure out... whatever this is between us.”

His words hung in the still summer air, thick with unsaid feelings and years of memories. Just as I was trying to form a coherent response, the dim twilight was sliced by the sudden glare of headlights. A red family-friendly minivan pulled up alongside us, and a cheery blonde woman leaned out from the driver’s side.

“You two in need of some assistance?” she asked, her blue eyes sparkling with genuine concern.

Noah cleared his throat, the emotional gravity of our conversation momentarily forgotten. “Actually, we were trying to get to the local store and then back to Camp Tortuga, but as you can see,” he gave the van's body an affectionate tap, “our ride had other plans.”

The man in the passenger seat, bearing a striking resemblance to a sun-kissed Santa Claus, chuckled warmly. "Well, we're headed that way to grab a few things, then making our way back to our cabin. It's just past the camp. How about we give you a lift?"

The two of us exchanged a glance. There was always a certain risk hitching a ride with strangers, even if they seemed as harmless as this pair. Leaning in close, I murmured to Noah, “If things start to feel off, that fancy cell phone of yours better pull through.”

His response was a soft chuckle and a reassuring squeeze of my hand. Acting the gentleman, he opened the minivan's back door for me, ensuring I was comfortably seated before slipping in beside me. 

Noah's fingers were interlaced with mine, a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainties. The conversation from the front seat about looming family drama at their summer house drifted towards us, but it only felt like white noise compared to the palpable tension between us.

It wasn't just a safety net, this handholding. Or at least, I tried convincing myself of that. As we stepped out at the general store, that electric connection persisted, even as silence settled between us. Following Noah through the aisles, my mind was racing, replaying our confessions, battling the feelings I'd buried for years against the loyalty I felt for Ian. How did three weeks with someone measure against years of suppressed emotions?

When Noah finally broke the silence outside the store, it felt like he'd torn a page out of my diary. "This doesn’t have to be weird," he said, our footsteps syncing on the gravel.

“I’m not making it weird, do you think I’m being weird?”, I asked obviously making it weird.

He shrugged. "It's just... We both know what’s going on here. Why not do something about it?"

“Then why not bring this up earlier? Like, any summer before this?” My laugh was more of a nervous flutter.

His gaze deepened. “I thought there'd always be another summer. But now...who knows where life will take us. If this is our last summer, I want it to be something we’ll never forget."

We hopped in the minivan as the loud pounding of my heart threatened to break my ear drums.

The driver, with his snowy white beard and ruddy cheeks, glanced back at us with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s hit the road!” he boomed, his voice rich with mirth as he pulled off.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, the embarrassment palpable. “Oh, we’re not... um, together,” I stammered, hastily putting on my seatbelt.

His wife beside him, her blue eyes shimmering with mischief, let out a light chuckle. “Of course, dear,” she said, giving Noah a wink.

Our laughter, tinged with nerves, filled the minivan for a moment before giving way to a weighted silence for the rest of the journey.

When we finally pulled back into Camp Tortuga, a sense of familiarity washing over me, I saw Mrs. Marshall waiting, her brows furrowed in concern. Her gaze moved from us to the unfamiliar minivan, her worry evident.

Noah quickly disembarked, his strides full of purpose, to give Mrs. Marshall a rundown of our little adventure. The two of them spoke animatedly, Noah's gestures explaining the bus situation, as I took a moment to gather my thoughts, their voices blending into the summer evening.

He broke the silence once she walked away, "I guess I'll see you at the welcome ceremony."

Words jammed in my throat, a tangle of regret and hope.

"Alexia, whatever happens, we're still good," he reassured, reading my face as he always did.

"But what if...?" I started, then hesitated, finding courage. "What if I do want to see where this goes…between us?"

He took a moment, then softly said, "Then you know your move." And with that, he walked away, leaving me at a crossroads, my heart pounding wildly.

The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over Camp Tortuga. Everywhere I looked, campers were chatting and laughing, ready for the evening's welcoming ceremony. But I barely noticed any of that. All I could think of was the conversation with Noah, the weight of choices, and the looming silhouette of Ian in my thoughts.

As the evening festivities began, I found myself standing at the edge, a spectator to my own life. The campfire crackled, sending sparks upward like tiny wishes into the night. Music played softly in the background, a familiar camp song from years past. Everything felt so nostalgic, and yet, so different.

Suddenly, a hand tapped my shoulder. Turning around, my eyes met with a pair of familiar ones, but not Noah's. Ian stood there, a surprised grin on his deep brown face.

"Alexia," he said, pulling me into a tight embrace. "I thought I'd surprise you, but it looks like I'm the one in for a shock."

I pulled back, my heart racing, "What are you doing here? I thought you were in South Carolina."

He chuckled, "Thought I'd check out this legendary camp you always talk about. Plus, a whole summer without seeing my girlfriend? That's unthinkable."

As he said this, my eyes instinctively searched the crowd for Noah. When our gazes met, the intensity of emotions swirling in those depths was palpable.

Ian, oblivious, continued, "I got a part-time job here for the summer, figured it'd be fun."

The weight of his words settled heavily on me. The next two weeks were no longer just about reconciling feelings and making choices; they were about confronting them head-on, with both Noah and Ian in close proximity.

The campfire's warmth did little to ease the chill that ran down my spine. This summer at Camp Tortuga was about to become a whole lot more complicated.

Behind us, Mrs. Marshall approached, ready to announce something. But before she could say a word, a scream pierced the air from the forested area of the camp. All heads turned, and the festive atmosphere shifted to one of alarm.

Ian and Noah who seemingly appeared out of thin air, now both standing on either side of me, looked ready to rush towards the source of the commotion. Mrs. Marshall, in her years of experience, called for calm but her face betrayed her anxiety.

I was torn, caught in the whirlwind of emotions and the sudden turn of events. The two most significant people in my life were now both here, and a mystery was unfolding right before us.

As campers scrambled, and the night grew darker, I knew one thing for certain: this summer would change everything.