Hope gave each of us paper and pencil

that night at dinner.

“What’s this for?” Joplin asked.

“A special project,”

Hope said.

“We have a baby goat in the barn.

We just adopted him from a local farm.

He needs a name.

So every camper gets to submit three choices.

The farm staff will vote for their favorite.

That’ll be the name of the goat.”

“Forever?” curly-haired Kylie said.

“Forever,” Hope said.

We all sat down then.

The other girls started tapping their pencils

on the table.

Thinking.

Not me.

I knew the pet names I loved.

On my sheet of paper, I wrote:

Then I folded that paper up.

Dylan was sitting next to me.

I sneaked a peek at her paper.

She wrote:

1. Bleat

2. Goatie

3. Spot

Good grief! I thought.

She can’t name a goat at all!

Then I told myself

it was better to name goats well

than swim well.

I didn’t really believe that.

But still.

I felt better.

After we’d all handed our lists to Hope,

we stood in the long line for food.

I had to eat salad and rolls again.

Because chili

is disgusting.

And the lasagna had spinach inside.

I asked for more salad this time

and forced myself to eat tomatoes.

Because I was starving.