it was an orchestra camp—far less phallic-shaped instruments,” I said. “More F-holes, though. And wood.” We all laughed. “My parents basically sent me every summer growing up. Camp Hickory was for the kids of senators and super-fancy old-money types. It was tough to get into. People came from all over the world,” I explained. “You still had to apply, and some really successful people came out of it too.”
“Ohh, like who?” Suzie used the back of her hand to stifle a yawn. “Anybody I know?”
“Well, like Francesca Belia and Karl Norman.” I threw out the names of some of the biggest up and coming classical musicians only to receive blank stares.
“Oh, and YouTube boy … Gah, what was his name? You had the biggest crush on him,” Gretchen ratted me out. Again.
I scrunched up my face. I had really been hoping she’d forgotten about that.
“Who?” Blithe tilted her head in thought.
“You know, the one. He had that huge song and then fell off the map,” Gretchen said. “‘Thoughts of you, my soul on fire,’ uh, something, something, ‘I look at you, but
you—’”
“‘You’re looking at him …’” All five of us sang the rest of the chorus.
“‘Can’t Look Back?’ Oh, I loved that song!” Roxy burst out excitedly before calming herself. “Not that I would ever admit it,” she added flatly. She reached for her phone. The white glow from the screen illuminated her face. “‘Erik Jones had a U.S. number one hit for ten weeks,’ blah blah, ‘Trouble with manager.’ Hasn’t been heard of since.” She lowered her phone. “I totally remember that guy. He was so hot.”
“Did you know him?” Suzie asked me.
“Oh, gosh no. He was older—a counselor by the time I went. Then he got so huge. He was already on his way to being somebody, but after that song happened, he exploded.”
“Crazy,” Blithe said.
“You were obsessed with that song.”
“Oh my God. Shut up, Gretchen.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “No more booze for you.”
“Come on, it’s adorable. You would listen to it all the time back then.”
Truthfully, I still did from time to time.
“First of all, he was only eighteen when that song came out, but he was super talented. He was a musical virtuoso at camp. Also, we aren’t talking about this. When will you let my embarrassing tween obsession die?”
Not tween—teen. And if I was being honest, I’d still probably squeal and flap my hands with big sloppy tears if he held a concert.
“Never. I will never let that die. That’s what friends do. They keep you humble by rehashing your most embarrassing memories. Preferably at the absolute worst times.” Gretchen blew me a kiss.
I tilted my head with a wry smile. “Gee, thanks.”
“Will someone play the song before I lose my clucking mind? Otherwise, it’ll be stuck in my head all week.” Suzie’s voice got higher with impatience.
“I haven’t heard this in forever,” Roxy said as music from her phone filled the air.
As though we’d rehearsed it, we all started singing the chorus and throwing our arms out. “‘But you, you’re looking at him.’”
Instantly, I was filled with a soothing reassurance that only thinking of your most adolescent feelings can resurrect; when everything felt so bright and shiny and possible. It was hokey and angsty—everything a sixteen-year-old girl needed. We all had that song that lifted us in our darkest mood. That song will forever remind me of the happy times before camp ended the way it did.
“It’s all very dramatic,” Roxy said over the song.
“Oh, you love it.” Blithe poked her shoulder.
When the music stopped, I had hoped the previous topic would have been abandoned. Not likely with Gretchen around.
“Okay, the notes. Explain.” Like a hound dog on scent, that one.
“Fine.” I made a face at her. “Roddy was first chair violin and basically the quarterback of the symphony.”
“Heh. Nerds.”
I shook my head at Gretchen.
“He was very popular—everyone loved him. They were drawn to him, really. He’d play Oasis on his guitar at night around the campfire and we’d all swoon. He was just inherently cool, you know? When we started hanging out, I felt like somebody. It was just in the summers, and totally innocent. Though I did get to second base with him once on a boat.” I wiggled my eyebrows saucily.
I kept my tone light, leaving out the memories I preferred not to think about. I never talked about the dark side of my last summer there. I didn’t want to be the one that still felt broken.
“Summer love,” Roxy