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The main hall was abuzz with children talking, the final week of camp was coming to a close and they had decided it was the perfect excuse to ‘go big or go home’. And, seeing as they were practically leaping over themselves to convince you to participate, you figured you’d let them have their fun. The weather was perfect for it, that kind of warm, sleepy summer morning that made the camp seem like something out of a dream.
The campers were shaking with energy, gathering around you after breakfast with endless ideas for the day. Nick had made his ‘world famous’ chocolate chip pancakes and of course that only served as fuel for the hyperactive children now all clamouring for your attention. As the activities coordinator, you had been roped into brainstorming with a few of the older kids, scribbling game ideas on a clipboard, when Max wandered over, hands tucked in his pockets, watching the group with a quiet smile.
One of your kids, Leah, noticed him and lit up, “Max! We’re gonna play the best game ever this afternoon!” she announced, tugging on his arm to pull him closer, “And you’re gonna be on my team!” You struggled to contain a laugh as you watched the pair walk over.
Max smiled, letting himself be pulled over. “Oh yeah? Sounds serious. What’s the plan?”
You grinned, looking up and catching his eye, “We’re thinking about an ultimate mash-up of capture-the-flag and dodgeball. But,” you added, pausing for dramatic effect, “we thought it might be more fun if you and I were on opposite teams. To even the playing field, we’d be too good if we were on the same side.” You threw in an exaggerated wink at the end, much to the humour of the kids who treat any interaction between their two favourite counsellors like a reality television show.
Max’s eyebrows shot up, and he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his you’d noticed when you had both first started working here, “Oh, so no pressure then,” he said, his tone joking but his cheeks hinting at a blush, “Guess I’d better practise my dodgeball skills, which are amazing. Just so you know.”
The kids cheered at the idea of a counsellor showdown, already chattering excitedly about strategies to “take down” the other team. That should keep them entertained for a while. You knew first hand how overactive these kids’ imaginations could be, you’d spent all summer with them after all.
From the outskirts of the group one of the younger campers, Luke, piped up with a grin. “We should make a trophy! Like a really awesome one for the team that wins!”
You tilted your head, impressed that he’d been willing to suggest something in front of the whole group, it was something the two of you had been trying to work on this summer, “That’s a great idea! But it has to be something that shows real camp spirit, something we can use every year to make it a tradition.”
As soon as the approval had left your mouth the kids erupted with ideas: a trophy made of twigs and pinecones, decorated with glitter and stickers, maybe even painted with everyone’s favourite colours. You couldn’t deny their ambition. After deciding which kids would go with which councillor, Max’s team quickly volunteered to take charge of the trophy’s design, excitedly running to the arts-and-crafts cabin to gather the supplies, most of which would end up all over them rather than on the trophy. You hoped Abigail wasn’t planning on a calm ending to camp, if so the stampede you’d sent her way would definitely be an unwelcome surprise.
As one group scampered off, the others set to collecting the list of items you had decided would be needed for the afternoon's activities, leaving you alone with Max. He turned to look at you, eyes warm with something you couldn’t quite place, “You know, you’re really good at this, getting them to work together and all,” the small smile he had on his face almost knocking the air from you, “They love this stuff because of you.”
You flushed at the unexpected compliment, giving a casual shrug to hide the small thrill of it. “Maybe I just enjoy seeing everyone else as competitive as I am.” you joked, nudging his arm, the contact nearly sending you to an early grave.
“Yeah, well…” Max paused, giving you yet another soft smile. “I’ll just try my best to keep up.”
It was like this boy was trying to kill you.
***
With everything for the game set up, the kids spent the rest of the morning decorating the trophy, which turned out to be a small wooden plaque they’d scavenged from Abi in the arts cabin. They had covered it with glitter, pipe cleaners, and stickers, even etching a “#1” in big, wonky letters. By the time lunch rolled around, the campers were practically vibrating with excitement, each side ready to face off in the finale of the summer.
As you watched the kids slowly filter onto the grassy space reserved for games like this, the trophy being passed amongst them like a rare treasure, you caught Max’s gaze across the field. He gave a small, nervous wave, the hint of a smile on his face, and you felt your heart skip and your face flush slightly. If any of the kids asked you would be quick to blame it on the sun, allergies, something to point their interest elsewhere. Definitely not the boy across the field who had held your heart in his hands all summer.
This game was just as much about you and him as it was about the campers.
“Alright!” you called out, finally wrangling the trophy from one of the kids before they got a bit too enthusiastic with it, placing it on a bench nearby you turned back to face the two groups in front of you, “let the best team win!”
The kids cheered, splitting off to their designated areas. You threw Max one last wink before heading off to stand with your team, completely missing the way his face flushed red.
It was going to be a game to remember that's for sure.
***
The campers lined up eagerly on the field, eyeing each other with mock seriousness as they moved into their positions. It didn’t take long before they were chanting your individual team names back and forth like their lives depended on it.
Max stood a few feet away, looking equally amused and a little anxious under the attention. He flashed you a shy grin and gave a small thumbs-up. “Good luck,” he called out, voice light but genuine, as though he wasn’t quite sure how he’d fare in the battle to come. The campers appeared more so as a threatening mob rather than the group of kids that they were. He wasn’t entirely convinced that he’d make it out of this ‘game’ with all his limbs attached.
“You’ll need it more than I will!” you teased throwing him a kilowatt smile, and just like that, the game was on.
As soon as the whistle blew, the field erupted in a flurry of dodgeballs, red blurs shooting off in every direction. Kids scrambled back and forth, dodging, darting, and shouting strategy across the field. You couldn’t help but laugh as Max, true to his character, made a deliberate effort not to throw the dodgeballs too hard, focusing instead on motivating his team and giving them tips from the sidelines. But every now and then, he would glance your way, and when your eyes met, a spark of friendly rivalry passed between you.
One of your campers, Maya, noticed this too, nudging you with a conspiratorial smile. “Are you gonna let him win, or what?”
“Not a chance,” you whispered back, grinning as you caught a dodgeball and launched it straight in Max’s direction. He saw it coming and barely ducked out of the way, laughing as he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“Nice try!” he called, looking flustered but smiling.
The kids on his team rallied around him, protecting him as they coordinated a counterattack. The field had turned into organised chaos, but Max’s team was on fire, each camper determined to win. Gradually, you watched the numbers on your team dwindle, and despite all efforts to dodge and weave, you soon found yourself as one of the last “survivors.”
“C’mon, you’ve got this!” Max shouted, his voice carrying over the cheers of the kids. You caught a glimpse of him as he encouraged his teammates, pride written all over his face as he watched the campers get more competitive with each passing second.
But just as you lunged to avoid another throw, one camper from Max’s team, Sam, landed a well-aimed dodgeball right at your feet, causing you to stumble and laugh as you finally admitted defeat.
The field exploded with cheers as Max’s team rushed forward, triumphant, hoisting up the makeshift trophy they’d crafted earlier. Max gave a small cheer himself, though his smile was subdued, almost bashful as he watched the kids celebrate around him.
“Victory!” Sam shouted, running up to Max with the wooden plaque in hand. She thrust it toward him. “You’ve gotta hold it up high!”
But Max just shook his head with a laugh, eyes focused solely on you as you tried to cheer up your own teammates after their loss. A shy smile tugged at his lips, and he fidgeted, as though summoning the courage for what he wanted to do.
Before the kids could protest, he handed off the trophy to another camper, muttered a quiet “good job, team,” and made his way across the field toward you, looking like he was half-worried you’d laugh at him for it.
“Guess I have to hand it to you,” you teased as he approached. “Your team really showed us up.”
Max shrugged, glancing down and scuffing his shoe into the dirt. “They did great… but, you know, I think it’s mostly ‘cause we had fun out there.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks a little pink as he looked at you. He’d had a whole summer to learn how to act around you, and he still hadn’t gotten it right.
“You all good up there Max?” you laughed as you gestured to his head, clearly taking his silence as a sign of one too many dodgeballs to the skull.
He glanced up at you then, a shy smile on his lips as he shook his head. “Yeah, great, so totally fine, you are too! Fine, I mean, not just fine, but like, great. Cool?”
He wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
He watched as you paused, clearly trying to figure out how to respond to whatever just fell out of his mouth. It’s not like his brain was present in the interaction, so your guess was as good as his.
“Thank you? I think?”
He just nodded, a soft, awkward laugh escaping as he rubbed his neck, thanking his lucky stars and whatever divine entity there was that you had let his fumble slide.
“Yeah, well… anyway!.” He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours for just a second before he looked away. “I just wanted to say that this camp wouldn’t be half as fun without you.”
The way he said it made your heart skip, and suddenly the playful atmosphere shifted into something quieter, the words he’d chosen lay heavy between you both, “Thanks, Max,” you said softly, “That… means a lot.”
For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you like he was working up the courage to say something else. But instead, he just smiled, looking down with that shy expression that was so perfectly, uniquely him.
You shifted on your feet, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the setting sun. Max’s shy, lopsided smile was endearing in a way that left you speechless. It was like he’d slipped his way under your skin without even realising it.
The rest of the campers had wandered off to gather by the fire, leaving the two of you alone in the clearing. Max noticed this too, his gaze drifting to the nearby lake, as if searching for something to focus on other than you. “So… are you, uh… sad camp’s almost over?” he asked, the words slow and careful, as though he was afraid of scaring you off somehow. You doubted that was possible.
You nodded, feeling oddly contemplative, “Yeah. I mean, it’s always bittersweet. I’ll miss this place… miss everyone here.” The words hung in the air, pointed in a way you clearly wanted him to pick up on, but for a second, you wondered if you’d said too much.
But Max just nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little, as if you had singlehandedly rid him of all of his worldly concerns, “Yeah, me too,” he murmured. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Like, you spend all summer with everyone, and then… poof. Back to real life, never to be seen again, off into the mist…” He wiggled his fingers in a, what you assumed was, spooky manner, clearly aiming for some kind of comedic relief. He fell short on that account, but you loved him for trying.
Loved him? You didn’t want to unpack that right now, thank you very much.
You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Real life doesn’t sound half as fun as Hackett’s Quarry.”
He chuckled, his gaze finally meeting yours, just for a moment. “No, it really doesn’t.” His smile faded a bit, a seriousness creeping into his eyes. “It’s, uh… it’s hard, you know? Saying goodbye to people who… well, who really matter.”
Your heart skipped, the gentle confession settling between the two of you. The silence stretched, the air thick with unspoken words, each of you waiting for the other to break it. Finally, you took a breath, willing yourself to be brave. “I’ll miss you too, Max. A lot.”
He blinked, his eyes widening slightly. “You mean that?”
You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his surprise, certain that even Max the Oblivious would have picked up on your pathetic pining over the course of the summer, “Of course I do. I think I look forward to seeing you every day more than I’d ever admit to anyone else.” Your voice was soft, almost as if saying it out loud made it too real.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you like he was trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. Then, in a tentative gesture, that was so indescribable as anything other than just… Max, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours. It was barely a touch, so light you almost wondered if you’d imagined it. But then he left his hand there, his palm warm against yours.
“Me too,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the gentle rustling of leaves. “I just… I didn’t think… well, I didn’t think you’d feel the same.”
Like it was possible for you to feel otherwise.
His words sent a surge of courage through you, and you laced your fingers with his, holding his hand with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “Well, surprise,” you murmured, your voice warm with a smile. “Looks like you’ve been winning a lot more than just dodgeball games.”
He laughed, a soft, breathless sound, and you felt his grip tighten just a little.