Chapter Text
i found me a hopeless case
and resolved to love
maybe we can find a decent place
when we're old enough
- sonsick, san fermin
The paved road turned to gravel, then to packed dirt, and there it was—
“Camp! My summer camp! We’re finally here! We’ve been driving for hours and hours and now we’re here!”
“An hour and a half,” Reki corrected.
“Felt like hours and hours,” Langa muttered.
Reki ignored him and looked in the rearview mirror at the girl bouncing with excitement, clutching her backpack like she expected—and wanted—her parents to chuck her out in a drive by drop-off. “Are you ready, Olive?”
“I am so ready. I am the readiest I have been in my whole life.”
Reki and Langa both laughed. “That’s good,” Reki said. “Do you remember the talk we had about expectations?”
“Keep them realistic,” Olive said, dropping her voice lower to mimic Reki’s, with only a hint of mockery.
“Very good,” Reki said. “Anything else?”
Olive sighed dramatically. “It might be the best time of my life but not every part will be awesome and it’s okay if some stuff is disappointing?”
“Exactly. What do you think, Langa, is she ready?”
“She’s ready.”
“Good, because here’s the parking lot.” Reki pulled into one of the few remaining parking spots. He barely had the car in park before Olive flung open the door and jumped out.
“Hurry! We’re late!”
“We’re not late,” Langa assured her. “Everyone else is just early.”
Olive spun around and glared at Langa. As she spoke, her voice became increasingly panicked. “Then we should have been early! What if I don’t get a good cabin? What if I’m in the very worst cabin with a leaky ceiling and an ant infestation and—”
“Spiderwebs,” Reki said, interrupting her spiral the way Langa still interrupted his. He crouched and put his hand on her cheek. Olive looked at him with sudden tears sparkling on her dark lashes. “It’s okay. They don’t make cabin assignments based on when people get here.”
But it was too late. Olive scrunched up her face, dropped her head, and crossed her arms, closing in on herself. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to go to camp.”
Reki stood and sighed. “You wanna give this a shot?” he asked Langa, who was trying to wrestle Olive’s luggage out of the trunk. Reki had overpacked the duffel bag and stuffed it into the trunk the way someone might stuff a body into a trunk. Not that he had ever imagined doing that! He’d seen it on TV, that’s all.
Langa nodded. He gave the bag a final tug and it came free, nearly buckling Langa’s knees in the process. They dropped it and came around to the side of the car, leaning against the door next to Olive. “Tell me what you’re feeling,” they asked.
“I’m feeling bad!”
“Okay. What else?”
“I’m feeling like I want to leave and never come back.”
“Olive, that’s not a feeling.”
“Yes it is.”
Langa looked at Reki pleadingly.
“Okay, okay,” Reki said. “You want to get her checked in?”
Langa was gone faster than Reki could say paperwork. “I’m not staying!” Olive called after him, but the fight was gone from her voice.
Reki sat on the overstuffed duffel bag and propped his elbows on his knees. “All right, Olive, what’s going on?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Five minutes ago you were excited to be here.”
Olive shrugged.
“Are you scared?”
“A little.”
“What are you scared of?”
Another shrug. “I dunno. Not having friends. Not having fun.”
“New places are scary, huh? Have I told you about how I moved here?” Reki asked even though he knew he had. It was one of Olive’s favorite stories.
Olive perked up ever so slightly. “Tell me again.”
So Reki did.
*
Langa’s promise to move back to Japan after finishing school had gotten a bit…derailed. As it turned out, going to school to become a teacher in Canada set the expectation that a person would become, well, a teacher in Canada. Despite a good effort on Duolingo, Langa had eventually accepted that they’d never get to a point where they would be fluent enough to teach in a Japanese school. That, combined with a newfound appreciation for the country where he’d grown up, pushed Langa to decide that they would not, in fact, be moving back to Japan.
Reki had been temporarily devastated. Threw some temper tantrums, locked himself in his room, didn’t go to work, nearly got fired, et cetera. Mimi called that period of time the Dark Ages. Once he’d finished moping, Reki enrolled in English classes and got to work.
Moving to Canada hadn’t been an easy decision, or a smart one. Uprooting his life to go live in a foreign country with someone he’d known for a grand total of Not Long Enough, especially when all his friends and family were in Japan? It was a thoroughly stupid idea propelled by young love and ADHD. Reki was only officially diagnosed with one of those things, but they had an equal hand in the decision. Other deciding factors were Mimi’s graduation and impending marriage to Hana, the start of Koyomi’s college years, and Reki’s dwindling friendships with his camp coworkers. It’s not like there was nothing there for him, but…Langa was elsewhere. Reki wanted to be with Langa. Plain and simple.
So: Reki moved to Canada. With Langa’s permission, of course. He didn’t just show up like hey buddy remember me? I live with you now. And it was exciting, and romantic, and also it totally one hundred percent sucked.
Of course it sucked. The weather sucked. Everyone spoke really fast, way faster than Reki could keep up. He got a job in a Japanese restaurant, and server life sucked too. Langa was gone a lot, swept up in their first teaching job, staying after school for photography club and the Queer Student Alliance, and Reki felt a little bit like a forgotten pet fish sometimes, stuck in his goldfish bowl, slamming up against the sides when he’d thought the world was much bigger.
It was Nanako, of all people, who finally made Canada feel like home. She came by one day when Langa was at school and Reki had off—because Reki had the kind of job where he’d have off on the middle of a Tuesday, because that was so much fun and so useful—and Reki had greeted her by saying, “Sorry, Langa’s not here.”
“I’m not here for him,” Nanako said, and Reki briefly thought he was about to find out that Nanako was actually a secret assassin, sent to take him out because he’d gotten in the way of the Japanese-Canadian mafia, or something. Nanako did take him out, but only to lunch.
They made small talk on the drive, but once they were seated and done ordering, Nanako got down to business. “Langa told me you’ve been having a hard time adjusting,” she said. She sipped her water and peered at Reki inquisitively. “Do you want to talk about it? I know you probably don’t want advice from an old lady, but you might remember that I’ve gone through the same thing.”
Reki had totally, completely forgotten about that. He clasped his hands and leaned towards her. “Please give me advice,” he said. “Please. Tell me what to do.”
Nanako grinned triumphantly. “It’s simple. You need to stop acting like you don’t belong here.”
“I’m not—”
Nanako held up a finger and Reki shut his mouth. “Yes, you are. I know because I did it too. For a long time, for too long.”
“Okay, let’s say you’re right.”
“I’m a mom. Of course I’m right.”
“How do I do it? Act like I belong?”
“Well, do you think you belong here?”
“No.”
“That’s step one. Convince yourself you do. Challenge the thought that you don’t belong.”
“Okay…what else?”
“Pick a place and make yourself a regular there. A coffee shop, a restaurant, a bar—with trivia or games, I’m not suggesting you become an alcoholic—a gym, or even a bowling alley. Any place will do. You don’t have to talk to anybody at first. If you go enough, the employees and other regulars will get to know you.”
“I can do that. What else?”
“English classes. I know you already took them, but—”
“No, yeah, I get it. English classes. Can do.”
“It’s also a good way to meet other immigrants.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. You need to marry Langa.”
If Reki had been sipping a drink, he would have done a spit take. He settled for gaping at Nanako. “Huh?”
“Easiest path to citizenship. Assuming that’s what you want. Have you two not talked about this?”
“Er, um, no?”
“Talk about it. Marry Langa. You have my permission and my blessing.”
Reki took her advice. All of it. Overachieved, even. He became a regular at an art studio, a coffee shop, and even a bowling alley, because that sounded too good to pass up. He got good at bowling. He enrolled in English classes—again—and took the instructor’s advice to watch movies and TV shows in English as a way of practicing. Reki loved being assigned TV time for homework, and it turned out to be extremely effective in building his fluency.
He convinced Langa to join him for trivia at a local pub, and they both became regulars there, even though they were awful at trivia. They collected other lone players and couples until they had a solid team with rotating members. Reki quit the restaurant to juggle a job teaching at the art studio and a job bartending at the pub. Sometimes he hosted trivia to make a couple extra bucks.
Oh, and he married Langa, too. For good measure. They got married in Nanako’s church, partly to make her happy and partly because it was cheap, and had the reception in somebody’s backyard. Reki had wanted to rent out a nearby nature center that had a cool refurbished barn for events, but it was, according to Langa, “prohibitively expensive”, and so they were stuck with the backyard. It was good, though. It was perfect.
And then: Olive. It have would been fitting for them if she’d been a surprise, an unexpected gift, but she wasn’t. Reki and Langa started talking about adoption before they were married, and began the application process the day after their wedding. Olive came to them when she was two, which saved them from the sleeplessness of having a newborn, but not much else. Being a parent was way harder than being a camp counselor, way harder than being a big brother, and Reki had a harder time adjusting than Langa did. Langa took to parenthood naturally, and Reki only cried about it like, three times.
See? Progress.
*
“I know new places are scary, Olive,” Reki said. “But if we avoid new places, life is pretty boring, and we miss out on a lot of cool stuff. If I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“And if I hadn’t gone to work at summer camp, I wouldn’t have met Reki,” Langa said, suddenly reappearing at Reki’s side.
“I also met my best friend, your aunt Mimi, at summer camp,” Reki offered. “That doesn’t mean you will, but you might, and that’s—”
“I know, I know, I know,” Olive said, exasperated. Reki couldn’t blame her: they’d had this conversation quite a few times since Olive had decided she wanted to go to summer camp. It was the whole reason Olive knew the line about expectations and keeping them realistic. But Reki understood; sometimes it didn’t matter how many times you had a conversation, or how many times somebody told you it would be okay. Until you experienced it yourself, it was all just words and stories.
“I do want to make friends,” Olive said quietly. “I just don’t know how.”
Reki hoped the sound of his heart breaking wasn’t too loud. Olive was quiet and struggled to make friends in school. She wasn’t completely friendless, but she didn’t have any close friends. It was part of why Reki and Langa had agreed to sign her up for sleepaway camp, even though it pained them to send her away for the whole summer. “I know you do,” he said. He wanted to assure her that she would, but hey, what did he know? “Just remember what Grandma Nanako told me, okay? You have to act like you belong here.”
“I have something that might help with that,” Langa said. “Here. For you, Olive.” He flashed a lanyard with a blank card attached to it.
“What’s that?” Olive asked, already reaching for it.
Langa held it just out of reach. “Name tag.”
“For me?”
“I don’t know. Name tags are only for kids who stay at camp. I thought you weren’t staying.”
“I—I changed my mind!” Olive paused. “Again. But that’s it, promise.”
As Langa put the lanyard around Olive’s neck and explained that she would get to decorate it herself, Reki asked, “So…do you want to see the cabin?” He didn’t say that if she still wanted to leave after that, she could. He didn’t want to give the impression of being a total pushover, even though he was.
“I asked and they promised the ceiling doesn’t leak. No bug infestation, either.”
“Okay,” Olive agreed. After exchanging a tentatively triumphant look, Langa and Reki each took one handle on the duffel bag, and together they all walked to the cabins.
There was only one bunk left when they arrived, which might have caused World War Olive if it hadn’t been for the inquisitive girl sitting on the top bunk who, upon seeing Olive, screeched, “My bunk buddy is here! My bunk buddy has arrived!” Reki was afraid that the girl would jump and break both ankles, but instead she scrambled down the ladder to greet Olive. “Hi, bunk buddy! I’m Violet.” She extended a hand.
“I’m Olive,” said Olive shyly.
“Oh wow! We both have color names!” Violet exclaimed. “I was named for my grandma.”
“I was named for my grandpa.” Olive paused, unsure if she should say the next part. “He’s dead.”
“So’s my grandma,” said Violet matter-of-factly. “That’s why it’s my job to have her name. Was your grandpa named Olive too?”
Reki liked this little girl and her complete disregard for gendered names.
“Oliver,” Olive said, looking at Langa for confirmation. They nodded. “These are my parents,” she added, sounding just a little nervous. Despite all Reki and Langa’s insistence that they were a completely perfect and normal family, they had also coached Olive to prepare for people who might disagree.
“They have to leave,” Violet said. “Parents aren’t allowed to stay. I kicked mine out right away.”
Okay, now Reki was a little uncertain about leaving Olive to become friends with a girl who apparently kicked her parents out of places, but he was simultaneously relieved at how well this was going. “Well, Olive?” he said. “Ready to kick us out?”
Olive looked between Reki, Langa, and Violet. “I’m ready. Can you make my bed first, though? I always mess up the sheets.”
Once the bed was made and Reki had confirmed Olive could find everything in her bag, they each gave Olive a hug. “Have fun,” Langa said.
“I will,” Olive said.
“Make the most of it,” Reki said.
“I will. Can you leave now, please?”
Langa glanced at Reki and raised their eyebrows. Reki nodded. “We’re going,” Langa said. “We love you.”
Back in the car, Reki leaned his head against the window and sighed. Langa, who had agreed to drive on the way back, took a hand from the steering wheel and placed it on Reki’s leg. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Reki said. “Everything’s perfect.”
“So why do you sound sad?”
“I just…can’t believe she’s old enough to go to camp. I can’t believe we’re old enough to be sending our kid to camp.”
Langa hummed. “You know what I can’t believe?”
“What?”
“That we left her with a bunch of counselors who are basically kids themselves. The person leading check in looked about eighteen. I can’t believe that used to be us. We were so young.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Langa moved their hand up to Reki’s head and ruffled his hair. “No. It’s supposed to remind you that being old enough is relative.”
“Huh. I guess you’re right.” Reki watched the trees pass by, thinning out as they approached the highway. “Hey, can we take the scenic route? Maybe stop and find a good hiking trail? I know it’ll take longer, but—”
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Langa said.
“Camp is only a month.”
“It didn’t take much longer than that for me to fall in love with you,” Langa said. “Don’t underestimate a month.”
Reki tried and failed to hide his smile. He leaned over to kiss Langa on the cheek. “Okay, okay, you got me.”
Langa turned onto another road and they drove in silence for a few minutes. “Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t know,” Reki admitted. “I think so. I hope so. Violet seemed like friend material.”
“Olive’s quiet. She might get annoyed by her. I would.”
“Are you telling me, after almost ten years of marriage, that you get annoyed by people who are talkative and outgoing?”
“I—not you. In general. You’re an exception.”
“Lucky me.”
“That’s not what I meant, Reki—”
“I know. I’m teasing. Look, it’s a whole month. If Violet can be the friend she sits next to at dinner and partners with for activities even for just a couple days, until Olive makes more friends, then she’ll be okay. No, you know what? She’ll be okay no matter what. You know why? ‘Cause she’s ours, and we’ve managed to be okay no matter what. Camp was really hard for me sometimes, but I loved it anyway. It’s one of those places where it kinda doesn’t matter how hard stuff is. It’s about the moments in between the hard stuff, where everything is perfect, even if it’s just for a second. The moments when you stop, listen to the birds and the wind, or look at the clouds, or the stars, and realize that actually, your problems don’t matter at all, because everything is so much bigger than you. I’m not talking about the realization that you’re insignificant. I just mean that—”
“Hey,” Langa said, interrupting a classic Reki monologue. “I get it. You don’t have to explain it to me.”
“Do you ever wish we could go back to that summer?” Reki asked.
Langa hesitated. “I don’t know. It was kind of terrible, wasn’t it? I mean, we both had several breakdowns. I had a gender identity crisis. You stopped sleeping and showering. I dyed my hair blue. You ate a worm. We both thought camp was haunted—”
“I know all that,” Reki said. He reached over and carded his fingers through Langa’s hair, which was dyed a pretty silver color these days. “But would you go back?”
“Yeah,” Langa said. A smile flickered on his lips. “I would.”
Reki smiled. “Me too. And that’s how I know Olive will be okay. ‘Cause if we went through all that, and we’d still give anything to go back, even for a day…no matter what, it’ll be an experience she remembers. Right?”
“I don’t want her to go through anything like that, though,” Langa said. Their worry was as clear on their face as it had been the day they met, only furrowed with a few more lines now.
“Of course not. But if we kept her home? Sheltered from everything forever?”
“She’d hate us.”
“And she would never learn how to take care of herself. Or how to overcome anything. She’s gonna be okay, Langa. We’ve gotta trust her. The same way we always trusted each other even when things get rough.”
“I know. You’re right.”
“’Course I’m right. I’m always right, except for when you are.”
Langa rolled his eyes and pointed to a sign. “There’s a trailhead that way. Should we stop?”
“Sure. I could go for a hike. Just don’t make fun of me if I get out of breath. I’m not as spry as I used to be.”
“You’re 33,” Langa said.
“Don’t remind me.”
Langa laughed and continued driving until they reached a dry, dusty patch of dirt that was meant to serve as the trailhead parking lot. There were no other cars. Reki got out first and frowned at his sneakers. “Everything okay?” Langa asked, coming around to the passenger side.
“I’m not wearing the right shoes,” Reki said. “Hope it’s not a hard hike.”
“Hold on,” Langa said. They went to the back of the car and popped the trunk, emerging a moment later with a pair of boots, dangling by their laces, in each hand. “I thought you might want to go hiking after we dropped her off.”
Reki grinned. “Man, I love you.” He grabbed Langa’s face and gave him a big kiss before taking his pair of boots.
Once they were both laced up and ready to go, they set off on the trail. It was wide with a gentle slope to start, so Reki reached for Langa’s hand and they walked side by side. “What’s that bird?” Langa asked, pointing with his free hand.
“I can’t see it well enough. I guess you didn’t remember the binoculars?”
“Hey, I got the boots, didn’t I?”
The bird took off. “Sorry,” Reki said. “I’ll get the next one. Just don’t ask me to identify any trees.” He’d gotten pretty good with the local animals, especially birds, bugs, and amphibians, but no matter how hard he tried, Reki just could not learn how to identify all the native trees.
“You know more trees than I do, and I grew up around here.”
“But I can’t identify them with 100% accuracy every time!”
“I know, Reki. I know.”
The path narrowed and Reki reluctantly let go of Langa’s hand. It got steeper, and soon there was only the sound of their footsteps and their breathing. Reki spent a lot of time talking and didn’t spend nearly enough time outside anymore. He had almost forgotten how peaceful it was. He tuned his ears to the forest chatter and let it fill his mind, flushing out all his worries about Olive and his lungs’ protest against the elevation gain. It was a warm, cloudy day, but the sun snuck through in patches; thin rays of light danced among the leaves.
When it flattened out again, Reki rested against a tree and turned his attention to a busy anthill, watching the workers traveling in their single file line. Langa crouched nearby and flipped over a piece of decaying wood. “Found something,” they said.
Curious, Reki went to see what Langa had found. As he knelt beside Langa, Langa pointed and Reki followed their finger to a small salamander resting on the soft, damp forest floor beneath the piece of wood. “Hey, lil guy,” Reki whispered. “What’s up?” To Langa, he said, “Nice find.”
“You taught me how to find them,” Langa said. The salamander, suddenly displeased with being found, made a quick getaway. Gently, Langa replaced the wood. “Sorry to disturb you,” they said apologetically.
“Ready to keep going?” Reki asked.
“Sure. Do you think it goes anywhere?”
“The trail?”
“Yeah. To a clearing, or a view?”
“I dunno,” Reki said. He stood and dusted off his knees, then extended a hand to Langa. Langa didn’t need the hand, but took it anyway. They both gazed at the trail ahead of them, the trees and shrubs on either side, the patchy sunlight dappling the forest floor. “There’s only one way to find out, yeah?”
*
A month later, Reki and Langa returned to camp to pick up Olive. Langa drove and Reki did the equally-as-important job of clutching Olive’s letters and reading every single one out loud to analyze it for clues that she was miserable. He had also done this every time a letter arrived.
“Reki,” Langa said. “She’s okay. They would have called if something bad happened.”
“But what if—”
“We’ve been over all the what-ifs.”
“Okay, but what about July 16th?” He rifled through the letters and began reading: “‘One of the boys was mean to me. He said—’”
“‘My shirt was stupid. I hate boys. All of them,’” Langa finished for him. “I know. Kids are mean. Doesn’t the rest of the letter talk about how her friends assured her that it wasn’t a stupid shirt and gave the boy the silent treatment for a week?”
“Well, yeah.”
“She’s okay, Reki. Really. If she’s not, and she lied in her letters, then that’s a problem we’ll have to address, but I really doubt she lied. That’s not like Olive. If she was miserable, she’d write out every detail, hoping that we’d come rescue her.”
Reki scraped a hand through his hair, which really needed cutting. “Okay, okay. I know. Unless—”
“The counselors did not bribe the children to write good letters,” Langa said, impressively shutting down Reki’s next suggestion. “Look, we’re here. Will you act normal, or do I have to leave you in the car?”
“I’m not a dog,” Reki huffed, offended. “I can behave myself.”
The kids were all gathered in the parking lot in front of the main hall. Reki spotted Olive—and her huge bag, which had gotten somehow even bigger—right away. She was clinging to Violet and a few other girls, all of them teary-eyed.
“I think she had fun,” Langa said, speaking Reki’s thoughts aloud.
“Yeah. Great. Now we have to tear her away from her friends. Parents of the year!”
“They know this is happening. That’s why they’re crying. It’s not just us.” Langa gestured towards a group of exasperated-looking parents huddled nearby, and the two of them walked over to join them.
“Can’t breach the enemy line, huh?” Reki said by way of greeting. All the dads and one mom laughed.
“They won’t let go of each other,” said a short woman with a blunt haircut and a stern face (she was not the mom who had laughed). “It’s ridiculous. We need to leave now or she’s going to be late for the next camp.”
The group collectively ignored Multi-Camp Mom. “I just want to get home before dark,” said one of the dads.
“I promised her we’d stop for ice cream on the way home, but apparently that wasn’t enticing enough,” said the mom who had laughed.
“Okay, people,” Reki said, pretending to roll up his sleeves. “I’m going in.” He imagined himself as a hero pushing through a crowd to rescue someone in peril, but really all he did was walk up to the group of girls.
“Go. Away,” Olive hissed when she saw him.
“Nice to see you too, dearest daughter. Okie dokie, everybody,” Reki said, clapping once and trying not to be too self-conscious about his accent. “It’s time to go home.”
“We’re not going home,” another girl said. “This is our home now.”
“Yeah. We’re staying forever. We promised. See?” Olive held up her wrist, where she wore a bunch of friendship bracelets. Reki didn’t count, but he suspected the number matched the number of kids in the group.
“Oh. My mistake,” Reki said. “I didn’t know. Are the counselors staying forever, too?”
The girls murmured and Violet announced, “No. We don’t need them.”
“Of course not. Hey, how about the people who work in the kitchen? Are they staying forever?”
Now, a few of them looked uncertain. Again, Violet said, “No. We’ll make our own meals.”
“Right. Of course. And you’ll order the food, too, I guess. And pay for it. And someone will have to do the dishes, and the laundry…you all must have learned a lot here if you’re ready for all that!"
One girl suddenly wailed, “I don’t want to wash dishes!” broke away from the huddle, and flung herself at her parents. Two others followed more quietly.
“We’ll forage,” Violet said, a little less confident now.
“Yeah,” Olive said.
Reki admired her for holding her ground and sticking by her friend’s side, but he really wanted to get home. “Okay, well, Langa and I better get going, then. Gotta get home before dark. It was nice knowing you, Olive. Good luck out there.” He turned and grabbed Langa’s elbow, dragging him along until the inevitable:
“WAIT!”
Langa stumbled and took Reki down with him. Olive, gasping for breath, had caught up to them and grabbed Langa’s leg; all three of them landed in a tangle on the pavement.
“Don’t go, please. Please don’t go. I’ll come home. I’m sorry I was bad.”
Reki and Langa untangled themselves, sat up, and bundled Olive into a hug. “You weren’t bad,” Langa said. “Just stubborn.”
Olive hiccupped. “I—I don’t want—I don’t want to leave my friends.”
Reki and Langa exchanged a look, and Reki wondered if they were both remembering the same thing, a long ago night on a rooftop when it had seemed like the world was ending:
“You know, if we stay right here, we could — I mean, we would…”
“But we can’t, Langa. We can’t stay here.”
“We know you don’t want to leave your friends,” Langa said gently. “But you can’t stay here.”
“Why do good things have to end?” Olive asked.
“Endings are part of life,” Langa said, stroking her hair. “Everything ends. Endings are what give things meaning.”
“That’s stupid.”
Langa laughed and looked at Reki. “It is pretty stupid, isn’t it,” they said.
“Nobody likes endings, Olive,” Reki added. “But if things didn’t end, if they went on and on forever…they would get boring. And you hate being bored, too, don’t you?”
Olive rubbed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I do.”
“We are so happy you have friends who make you want to stay here,” Reki said. “But Olive…”
Langa finished the sentence for him. “It’s time to come home.”
“Can I say goodbye?” Olive asked.
“Of course. We’ll get your bag and wait in the car. Promise you’ll come to the car?” Reki held out his pinky for a pinky swear, and Olive took it.
“Promise.”
So Reki and Langa took the bag to the car, got in, and watched Olive say goodbye to her friends. She hugged each of them; Reki sniffled after the first and was full-on crying by the third. Langa rubbed his back. “Still worried about her?” they asked.
“Always,” Reki managed through his tears.
“Me too.” Langa sighed. “Guess we’d better start saving up for next year’s camp.”
“Can you believe that one lady? ‘We have to get to the next camp.’ Like, come on, just say you have somewhere to be. You don’t have to make it a whole thing.”
Langa laughed. “As if you wouldn’t say something if we were taking her to another camp.”
“I wouldn’t! If we were rich, I’d have tact.”
“Sure.”
“I would!”
“Okay, Reki.”
“Don’t ‘okay, Reki’ me—Olive!” The door opening interrupted Reki’s impending speech about how he would act if he were rich, which was probably for the best. “Did you finish saying goodbye?”
Olive sniffled, then yawned. “Yeah.”
“Did you get everyone’s email address, or phone number, or whatever it is you all use to communicate?”
“Yeah. Can we go home now? I’m tired.”
Reki glanced at Langa, who shrugged. They had planned to take Olive on the hike they’d done when they dropped her off—there was a beautiful view at the end, after all—but they both knew she wouldn’t be much fun on a hike if she was tired. Besides, there was always next year.
“Sure,” Reki said, as the car hummed to life. “Let’s go home.”