Free Things I Can't Forget by Miranda Kenneally

Andrea complains to Matt. “Last year she got up, like, ten times a night to use the bathroom.”
    “Taj is in my group,” Matt boasts. “And he’s gonna teach me to play ‘Stairway to Heaven’ on guitar tonight.”
    “Wait,” I say. “A kid is gonna teach you guitar?”
    Matt plays with the cross hanging around his neck and scratches one of his feet with the other. I still haven’t seen him in a pair of shoes yet. “You should hear this kid play. He’s gonna be performing at the Grand Ole Opry one day.”
    Andrea ignores me and focuses on Matt. “I can’t wait to hear Taj play again.”
    “Maybe you and Taj could be in the talent show together,” I suggest to Matt.
    He points at me. “Good idea. That’s the only chance I’d have of winning.” He puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles. “Taj, wanna be in the talent show with me?”
    Taj adjusts his ball cap. It’s turned around backward. “You owe me, King!”
    Matt clicks his tongue and points at the kid, and I laugh. I pull the talent show sign-up list and a pen out of my back pocket and write their names down. In addition to being the arts and crafts director, I’m in charge of arranging the weekly talent show.
    A boy with a tray of food passes by us. “Yum, we’re having chicken o’ rings,” I say, peering at the ringed nuggets. “I remember those.”
    “They’re a hot commodity,” Matt says, moving to stand next to me. So close, I can smell him: a mixture of soap and sweat. It’s nice. Andrea gets edged out and is now standing behind us. I don’t want to look at her face ’cause I’m sure she looks like the Hulk when he’s angry.
    He goes on, “I was gonna see if you’d trade me your green beans for my chicken o’ rings.”
    My stomach grumbles. “I remember loving those too.”
    “So it’s a deal?”
    “Absolutely not. I want both.”
    He smiles at me sideways. We take a step forward in line. “Do you use honey mustard or barbeque sauce?” he asks.
    “Both,” I reply. “I never can decide.”
    “Me too. I usually throw ketchup in there too for a little excitement.” He elbows me. “Watch this.” Matt lifts his hands above his head, forms an O with his arms, and yells, “OOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOOO-OOOOOOHHHHHH-HHHHHHHHHHH.”
    The campers join in, and Matt mutters to me out of the corner of his mouth. “You’re leaving me hanging here. Would you bow to the almighty o’ rings already?”
    I start laughing and lift my arms over my head and scream along.
    It feels good.
    At the pool after lunch, Brad doesn’t take off his T-shirt when we’re in the water. Some people who aren’t comfortable with their bodies wear a shirt over their bathing suits, but I can see Brad’s six-pack through the thin cotton.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?” I whisper to him, nodding at the bruises on his arm.
    “Drop it, okay? Please?” His eyes plead with me. He glances around. What happened to him? He seems like a very normal guy. He takes his job seriously and everyone likes him. Did he get into something bad? Does Megan know? Should I tell someone? Am I the only one who notices he’s wearing a shirt in the pool?
    I skim the top of the water with my hand. The regional conference wouldn’t hire someone questionable. I decide to drop it, like Brad wants me to.
    I peer up at Matt sitting in the lifeguard stand. He salutes me and smiles, and his eyes go back to scanning the pool.
    “Are you going to college?” I ask Brad.
    He scoops water up with his hands and wets his face. “Not sure yet.”
    “Did you just graduate from high school?”
    “Yeah.”
    A boy from our group suddenly does a cannonball, making a huge splash, drenching me and Brad. When the boy comes up for air, Brad playfully dunks him under the water. The boy jumps on Brad’s back, trying to dunk him back, but Brad doesn’t budge except to pluck the kid off his back and toss him into the water as if he were weightless.
    “What are you doing this fall?” I