I liked Jax’s facial hair, too, even though he didn’t have any facial hair yet. I knew one day if he did grow facial hair, I’d like it on him. I’d have bet he was going to be a handsome man because he was already a handsome boy.
I liked Jax Kilter so much for so many reasons, but one of the biggest reasons was because he didn’t fit in with anyone else at camp, and I didn’t fit in with anyone at camp because I talked a lot and was kind of different and ohmygosh maybe we could be friends!
I didn’t wake him up yet, because I knew once I woke him up, he might run and never want to talk to me again. I’d had a lot of friends who stopped talking to me after our first hangout session because they thought I was a weirdo.
Mama and Daddy told me being weird was a good thing, though. If a person was weird, that meant they had flavor, and I didn’t want my life to be bland. I had so many big, colorful dreams and I didn’t ever want to lose my way on achieving them because I gave up my weirdness.
The best quality about me—other than my ability to burp the ABCs—was that I was so comfortably weird.
I swallowed hard as I watched the sun start to rise outside and then I nudged Jax in the arm. “Hey,” I whispered. “It’s time to get up.”
Jax stirred and grumbled and stirred some more. “Five more minutes, Ma.”
I smiled, because he was funny when he was dreaming. I nudged him again. “I’m not your mother, Jax Kilter. Get your butt up before you’re caught in bed with Kennedy Lost.”
That got him to open his eyes—real wide. Those wide, delicious chocolate eyes.
He looked at me then around at my sleeping bunkmates and shot up from lying down. “I gotta get out of here before anyone notices.”
“Yeah, that’s why I woke you, duh.”
He stood and brushed his hand under his crooked nose as he picked up his wet clothes from the night before.
I stood, too, and smiled big at him. Mama always said smiling makes other people feel like smiling, too. “Smiles are contagious, Kennedy. Spread yours like a wildfire,” she’d always said. So, there I was, in front of Jax, cheesing harder than I’d ever cheesed before.
He arched an eyebrow and brushed his hand through his messy hair. “What are you doing?”
“Smiling.”
“Why?”
“So you’ll smile, too.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
I tossed on my pink hoodie and slid my feet into my sneakers. “If you want, you can come talk to the birds with me.”
“Birds don’t talk.”
“Yes, they do. You’re just not listening closely enough.”
“You’re so weird, Kennedy.”
I smiled bigger. “Thanks, Jax.” I scrunched up my nose. “Hey, is your name just Jax or is it longer?”
“It’s Jaxson, but only my mom calls me that.”
“Jaxson,” I sang. “Oh, I like that more. I like calling people by their longer name. Like Matthew, or Nicholas, or Samantha. My dad’s name is Tim, but Mama calls him Timothy. She said longer names are sosipcated.”
“You mean sophisticated,” he corrected.
I narrowed my eyes. “Say it again, but slow.”
“So—phis—ti—ca—ted,” he dragged out.
“So—phis—ti—ca—ted,” I echoed, smiling big at him. “Thanks. Sometimes I talk so fast I get tongue-tied and my words come out wrong, and other times I just don’t know the right words, and it’s helpful when someone is around to give me the words I meant, so thank you.” I took a deep breath. “Hey, can I call you Jaxson?”
“No!” he barked, a wrinkle forming on his forehead. “I told you—only my mom calls me that.”
“Wow.” I shook my head. “Your mom is so lucky. So, do you want to?”
“Want to what?”
“Go talk to the birds?”
“Does your mind always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Think a million thoughts at once.”
“Oh.” I scrunched my nose and wiggled my lips. “Yeah, I think so. Well, okay, I’d love to stick around and talk, but if I don’t get out there, I’ll miss the birds, and I don’t know if they’d know what to do without my morning conversation. Bye, Jax! See ya around, buckaroo!”
I tossed on my backpack, which was packed with goodies for any adventures I might wander into throughout the day. I had Nutri-Grain bars, bubbles, and a bottle of water. Whenever my parents, my sister, and I went on adventures back home, Mama would always pack the Nutri-Grain bars, and Daddy would have big jugs of water for us to sip from.
I left Jax in my cabin as I headed out to go sing to the birds. I loved being at camp because we were right in the middle of the woods. The girls’ cabins sat in a nice clearing in the forest, with lilac bushes planted right outside the door. When the wind blew, you’d be hit with the scent of flowers, which I loved the most. Lilacs were Mama’s favorite flower, and smelling them each morning when I walked outside made me a little less homesick. The air still smelled like rain, and I made sure to puddle-jump each time I saw a pool of water as I whistled and wandered through the woods.
Each day, I shared a bread roll I’d taken from the previous night’s dinner to feed to the birds, and boy, did they love it. They’d scoop and dive for the treat while I sat on a log and listened to their beautiful songs.
As I sat down upon my log and went digging through my backpack, I began my conversation with the birds then was quickly interrupted by the sound of a boy clearing his throat.
I turned around to see Jax standing there in his pajamas with his clothes from yesterday folded perfectly in his arms.
I smiled, and this time, my smile was enough to get him to smile, too. I went digging in my backpack again and pulled out a strawberry Nutri-Grain bar. It was my last strawberry one, which was my favorite, but I held it out toward Jax. “Want one?”
He hesitated for a second and looked around the campground as if he was worried about someone catching him hanging out with a weirdo like me. Then he took a breath and walked toward me. He took the bar from my hand and looked up at the trees, gazing at the birds.
“What kind are out here?” he asked as he unwrapped his bar and took a very small bite from it.
“Oh, you know. There’s the red-eyed lonnie, and the grayed jasper, and the eriken,” I said matter-of-factly.
Jax looked at me with a raised brow and confusion in his eyes. “Did you just make all of that up?”
“Yup.”
“Of course you did.”
We began eating our bars and talking to the birds. Well, I talked while Jax kind of just mumbled to himself. As the sun began to come all the way up, Jaxson took a swig from a water bottle I’d given him. “Is your full name Kennedy?”
“Yup. It means helmeted chief. Dad said it means I’ll be a leader and protected from bad things. My older sister’s name is Yoana, which means God is gracious, which fits her because she’s pretty awesome.” I tilted my head. “What does your name mean?”
“Oh, it’s stupid.”
“I doubt that—no name meaning is stupid.”
“Mine is, trust me.”