16 | The F Word

There's one tiny problem with the instructions I gave Zack: when I get back to the cabin, Lizzie isn't there. Something tells me she wasn't just in a hurry to get to lunch, either-- and unfortunately, I'm right. When I get to the mess hall, Zack is sitting at our usual spot alone.

He looks up at me with wide, worried eyes as I walk over. I can't help noticing he didn't even bother grabbing anything to eat.

"She wasn't at the cabin," I explain. "She must be really embarrassed-- we should look for her."

He's standing before I even finish making the suggestion. "Embarrassed?"

"She's probably scared how you'll react. She hasn't exactly caught on to your feelings," I say as we hurry towards the open doors. "Somehow."

"You're insinuating my infatuation has been obvious," he gathers, scratching the back of his neck.

We dodge a few teens who're coming inside just as we're leaving. The grounds are mostly empty now; only a few campers are still walking around, making their way to lunch. The two of us move out of the doorway and loiter next to the building.

"Zack, I think anyone who watched you two interact for two minutes would have caught on." And let's be honest-- two minutes is generous.

He opens his mouth to protest, but closes it quickly, looking resigned.

I sigh and look around, hoping I'll see Lizzie coming around a corner with her usual lopsided grin. But of course, she's still hiding somewhere, and I don't have any clue where to start looking.

"Look, just to avoid any confusion, and to make it impossible for Rita to screw this up somehow, let's not beat around the bush. You have a big fat crush on Lizzie, and Lizzie has a big fat crush on you."

Zack's eyebrows raise, and his face turns red as he stares in shock at my blatant outburst.

"When we find her, I suggest you get on with it and tell her you like her before I lose any more of my sanity."

"But what if we can't find her? Or what if she doesn't want to talk? What if--"

"Lizzie's here somewhere," I rationalize. "And we're her friends, she can't..." I swallow, trailing off as I realize the F word just left my mouth.

Well, not that F word, but you know... Friends.

"She can't avoid us forever," I finish, trying to keep my cool exterior.

Why did I say that? I called us friends without even thinking about it. Maybe that's all it was-- I wasn't thinking. I was just trying to keep Zack calm and I said the first thing that popped in my head.

He nods. "Yeah, okay, you're right. Sorry."

"To put it like Lizzie, try not to have an episode," I joke, glad to see that it makes him smile. "You check the buildings on the left of the path, I'll check the ones on the right. If she isn't here, I'll check the girls' area again, and if she isn't there then we can check the beach. But I'm sure we'll find her before then," I add, hoping he doesn't start panicking again.

Thankfully, he doesn't. He agrees and sets off towards one of the workshop buildings-- I honestly forget which is which, since I've only been inside the photography and painting rooms. I'm guessing if the fashion building is on the left side, that's the one he'll check first. If Lizzie's anything like me, she might've gone to dive into her work as a way to avoid everything else.

I head to the crafts cabin, but it's totally deserted. I call out her name but get no response, so I move on to the next building. As I walk into the painting workshop I hear movement in one of the closets, and actually wonder if I found her for a second before Ethan walks out.

He's out of uniform again, wearing a bright yellow t-shirt and loose, worn-out jeans. The thighs are stained with a few colorful paint splotches, but my attention is more focused on the swatch on his cheek-- it's a warm, deep beige, almost a perfect match for my own skin.

He freezes when he sees me, but it's only a second before his surprise dissipates into a welcoming smile. I'm still frozen, though, stuck somewhere between frustration that it isn't Lizzie and knee-weakening delight at seeing him again.

I guess my expression confuses him, because his grin drops. He looks concerned for a moment, but amused understanding quickly crosses over his features.

"I thought I explicitly said no peeking."

"What?" I blink, still caught off guard. I naturally assumed he was in the mess hall working on lunch, either at the buffet or behind the scenes in the kitchen. I take in the pallet in his hand, the sandwich and water bottle sitting on one of the tables, and recognize the easel he's walked over to as his statement registers in my brain.

Oh, right-- the paint on his face really does match my skin tone, and unlike its placement, that's no mistake. Yeah, my knees are definitely weak now.

"Oh!" I manage, hoping he doesn't take my blushing as an admission. "No, I wasn't, I promise. I'm looking for Lizzie."

He raises an eyebrow, setting down his supplies and reaching for his sandwich. "In the painting building?"

I wince, knowing this must really look like I came to snoop on the painting. But as much as I've wanted to over the past few days, I've managed to restrain myself. I respect his process, and I know as well as any artist how disconcerting it can be if someone sees your work before it's done.

Hopefully, he doesn't actually think I would go behind his back like that-- with his playful demeanor, it's hard to tell.

"We're looking all over-- me and Zack," I explain. "Basically, Rita told Zack that Lizzie likes him and she ran off before we could talk about it. She wasn't at the cabin and she didn't show up to lunch, so we're checking everywhere."

He places his PB&J back on the paper plate without even taking a bite. "Do you want me to help?"

"No, it's okay," I assure him, somehow comforted by the way he shifted into worry so quickly. If there's one thing I've learned about him so far, it's that his heart seems to be permanently cemented in the right place. I can't help but think that Camp Create It missed out when they made him a cook instead of a counselor-- I don't imagine it'd be easy to find a better role model than Ethan.

"You're sure? You think she's alright?"

I nod. "I'm pretty sure she's just scared of what Zack will say, so she's hiding out. Honestly, I'm hoping he finds her before I do-- it's something the two of them need to sort out. Well, not that there's much to 'sort out.' I mean, girl likes guy, guy likes girl. All they have to do is tell each other and the problem is solved."

He smiles, seeming to relax. "Well, I'm glad Rita didn't do as much damage as she probably was trying to."

"Me too."

Silence falls between us, and I know that I should go and keep looking for Lizzie. But like I said, it'd be better if Zack finds her first. And frankly, I'm still sort of freaking out over the whole I called her my friend thing.

"Your portrait's coming along," Ethan breaks my train of thought. He points his thumb over his back at the easel, but doesn't fully commit to the motion as he tilts his head, studying me. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine," I say, trying to brush off the question as if it was totally misguided. But even I can hear that my voice is strained with stress. I sigh, leaning against the table. "Well... fine might be a bit of an optimistic word choice."

"What's up?" he asks, strolling over. He rests his palm on the grey tabletop and looks down at me, expression gently curious.

I have to tell myself to focus on our conversation and not on how good he somehow manages to smell at camp of all places. Definitely don't need to focus on that. Even if I want to.

I raise a shoulder, steering my mind back on track. "When I was comforting Zack, I called Lizzie my friend."

"You didn't mean to?"

"I wasn't even thinking about it-- I just blurted it out. I guess whether I realized it or not, I have been thinking of them as friends." I shake my head, sighing. "I tried to tell myself I could be friendly without being a friend, but I'm starting to think it isn't possible."

"I'd hate to make things worse, but you should probably know that I think of us as friends," he says with a smile that gives me butterflies.

I huff and cross my arms over my chest, stomping my foot in protest, all while wishing my next words weren't true. "So do I."

"Okay, you don't have to sound that happy about it," he teases sarcastically.

I laugh, resting all my weight against the table in defeat. "Uhg. I have totally and completely failed at being a lone wolf."

He shrugs like it's no big deal. "There's a reason most wolves stick with a pack."

"Yeah, well most wolves probably didn't have their heart broken by their best friend." I look away, knowing I've just brought the mood back down.

He doesn't say anything, and I hate the silence enough to keep talking just so it'll end. "I just... it's hard to not worry about the rest of my relationships ending up like that, too."

"Del, how many photographs did you take during your art block that you absolutely hated?"

"What?" I turn back to him, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic.

"Twenty? Thirty? Fifty?"

"I... I don't know. I guess... between April and now, I've probably deleted like, a hundred pictures that I took. Why...?" I don't finish the question, squinting my eyes at him as I try to understand where this came from. I was hoping for more advice on friendship, not art.

"So according to you, you took a hundred bad photos. Pictures so bad that you wiped them off the face of the planet. And yet here you are, at an art camp, taking a photography course and walking around with a camera strapped to your neck for half the day."

"Ah," I look down at my feet as the metaphor clicks. "I get it."

"All I'm saying is, if you gave up on your photography the first time you took a picture you didn't like, you'd be missing a huge part of who you are. You wouldn't have taken all the pictures that you are proud of. You shouldn't give up on friendship just because one relationship didn't work out."

"If I do, I might miss out on all the possibly great... 'pictures.'" I do air quotes around the word.

"Exactly."

More great advice that I know I should take, but don't know if I have the guts to.

"You don't have to jump headfirst into it and start calling us all your BFFs," he says jokingly, "or go running to the crafts cabin to make friendship bracelets." As he talks, he retreats back to his sandwich, and I hate the way I automatically wish he'd stayed standing so close to me. "Just ease into it, you know? Start by letting yourself be happy that you're having a good time. I mean, you don't want to waste the entirety of camp thinking about what Mei did to you, right?"

"Right," I confirm, trying not to grimace at the thought of how much I have been thinking about it since I got here. Do I really want to let what happened with her have so much power over how I'm living my life?

I sigh, somehow feeling both better and more confused thanks to Ethan. "You've definitely given me a lot to think about. Has anyone ever told you that you're like, really incredible at giving advice?"

He grins, wiping a dab of peanut butter from his full lips. "Well you just did, which is good enough for me."

I can feel my face warming up-- if he's going to keep saying things like that, I should probably get out of here before I look as red as the paint on his pallet. "I should probably keep looking for Liz."

"One question before you go," he says, freezing me in my tracks. "The assembly this morning?"

"Is that the question?" I ask, unable to stop myself from smiling even though his expression looks serious.

He gives me a look, but it's joined by a quirk at the corner of his mouth. "You know what I mean. I pretty much know Rita's the only one crazy enough to do that to the dock, so I'm not worried about you catching heat for that. But if Rodriguez catches you pulling a prank..."

I nod. "Yeah. It'd be pretty bad."

"I know you probably want to get her back, and I don't blame you. But..." He raises a shoulder, hesitating. "I'd hate to see you get kicked out of camp."

Yeah, my face is probably warm enough to toast a marshmallow at this point. Hearing him say that so sincerely has set my heart at a hummingbird's pace, and I wish I could tell him that he doesn't have to worry. But if Lizzie didn't already deserve payback for Rita trying to frame her, she definitely deserves to get her back for what happened at the lake.

I nod, knowing that Lizzie, Zack and I have a lot to discuss. "Like I said, I have a lot to think about."

What do you think of Ethan's advice? 💡