FIVE

“BY THE WAY, LAST NIGHT I got an idea for one thing on the list!” I tell Kaylan after lunch. “I am so happy we can talk about it in person.”

We’re sitting on the grass, our legs stretched out in front of us, soaking in the sun. I’m so stuffed from pizza and mozzarella cheese garlic bread and cookies-and-cream ice cream that it’s a little hard to talk. But I’m not sure we’ll be alone together again until I’m home from camp, and I need to get this out.

“What is it?” Kaylan scratches an itch on her forehead and looks at me all suspicious.

I take a deep breath and exhale. “Okay, so you know the thing about finding the perfect man for your mom?” I look at her, butterflies rumbling up my throat. We put this on the list for a reason, but it was one of those things we just added quickly and then never talked about again. Like she wanted it to be there, but she didn’t really ever want to acknowledge that it was there.

She nods, looking off into the distance.

“Well, I have someone amazing. My friend Zoe’s dad. Her mom died when she was really little, and he never remarried and he’s honestly the nicest. He writes her a typed-up, single-spaced, two-page letter every single day. And they live in Manhattan in a fancy apartment and get this—they have a pool on the roof!”

“For real?” Kaylan’s eyes go super wide. I knew the pool would be enticing; that’s why I saved it for last. “Tell me more!”

“Um, he works on Wall Street but he’s really nice, not scary or anything. I met him on the first day of camp, and then she told me about her mom. Everyone else knew already. But she’s really open about it.” I pause and think of what else to share. “Oh, and they have a beach house out east on Long Island, and sometimes she invites everyone to sleep over.”

“Wow,” Kaylan says. “But they don’t live so close to us. I mean, Brookside is over an hour away from Manhattan.”

I nod. “I know. I thought about that. But he drives and stuff, and your mom does, too, and it’s not, like, that far. They can also take the train to each other.”

Kaylan slow nods like she’s thinking about it. “I know that we put it on the list, and I know we have to accomplish everything we put on, but can I be honest?”

“Sure.”

“I kind of felt shaky even putting it on in the first place, and then I just kind of wanted to ignore it because it’s a super-weird thing to find a man for your mom,” she tells me. “I mean, you see that, right? And also why would grown-ups want to be set up by kids?”

“I know. It’s all a little weird.” I look around at the families spending the day together at camp. They’re all smiling and having fun. Kids playing catch with their parents. Other families picnicking on Universal Lawn. My parents walked with Gemma to the bathroom forever ago; I wonder what’s taking them so long. “Anyway, it was just an idea.”

“But loyal to the list, ya know?” Kaylan adds. “We put it on, and we’re making it happen. I just need some time to really process it,” she explains. “So if you think Mr. . . . um, what’s Zoe’s last name?”

“Krieger,” I tell her. “His full name is Robert Irwin Krieger. Doesn’t that sound so distinguished?”

“Oh, totally.” Kaylan laughs. “That reminds me about something I wanted to ask. The lunch table girls and I were discussing it at the pool the other day. Are we TH friends or PF friends?”

“Um, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I laugh. “Can you speak in English now?”

“Okay.” She readjusts her legs on the grass, and thinks for a moment. “TH friends are total honesty friends and they tell the other one whatever is on their mind, all of their plans even if the other person isn’t included, etc.” She looks at me.

“And PF?” I ask.

“Protecting feelings. Like, you don’t tell all because you want to make sure the other person doesn’t feel bad.” She nods, like this should really be making sense to me now. “So what are we?”

“I feel like I need time to think about this!” I yelp. “I guess sometimes TH and sometimes PF. It depends on the situation.”

Kaylan shrugs. “I get that, but think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“All right, girls, enough of this whisper-whisper stuff,” my mom says when they get back from the bathroom. “We’re leaving soon, and I’d like to spend some time with you, Arianna.”

“Yes, Mother.” I try as hard as I can, but it’s impossible for me not to roll my eyes.

“Can we do some camp activities together?” she asks. “Boating, maybe? Or can you show us the art shack?”

“Fine, sure. Let’s go.”

I grab Kaylan’s hand and say, “This is actually a good thing. Hopefully we’ll pass Golfy and I’ll be able to point him out or maybe even introduce you.”

“Ooh, Golfyyyy,” she says, and cracks up.

“Shh.” I laugh.

We keep walking down the main path through camp, and Kaylan launches into this long explanation about the day she and the lunch table girls went to this famous pie place out east with M.W.’s family.

“Are you listening, Ari?” She taps my head with her finger. “Hello! You’re on another planet.”

“Sorry, my mind was wandering.” I smile. “Go on. Something about pies?”

“Yeah, so, they’re obsessed,” Kaylan explains. “It’s called Briermere Farms and they drive for hours to get there. And they make a whole day of it. And M.W. finds it so boring, so she invited us all to come.”

“How’d you all fit in the car?” I ask.

“Her dad has his own taxi service, did you know that?” Kaylan asks me. “So he has one of those big Sprinter vans, and we all went.”

“Oh,” I say. “I guess I don’t know so much about M.W.”

“She was your friend first,” Kaylan reminds me, laughing a little.

I crack up. “I know, but we weren’t, like, one-on-one friends, just like group friends. Ya know?”

Kaylan nods. “Anyway, the raspberry cream was amazing, and we had the best time, just, like, singing random songs in the van, like karaoke style, and it was all really funny. We kept cracking up, like, the whole day.”

“It sounds fun,” I say. “Oh! There’s Golfy,” I whisper as we walk past the soccer field.

“What? Where?” Kaylan looks around. “I can’t get a good look.”

I lean over to whisper in her ear, “The one with the red T-shirt and the baseball cap.”

“What are you two talking about?” Gemma asks, walking a few steps backward and getting in between us.

“Nothing,” I say.

Gemma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. Kaylan’ll tell me.”

“Um,” Kaylan starts. “I was filling Ari in on the new stuff at the pool—she’s so excited to see the new waterslide.”

“Okay, yeah, whatever. It’s not that good.” Gemma skips back up to join my parents, who are just aimlessly wandering around camp. I was supposed to be showing them around, but they walked in front of us, so I’m not really sure what’s happening.

“Just glance over there, but don’t make it obvious that you’re looking,” I whisper to Kaylan. “And quick because my parents just stopped walking.”

Kaylan nods and gently glances over to the soccer field and then back at me.

“Okay, so want to see the pottery studio?” I ask my parents because I can’t think of anything else to say and I’m not sure it’s the right time to introduce Golfy to everyone.

“Sounds delightful,” my mom replies.

“Yo! Arianna Nodberg!”

I roll my lips together and eye-bulge at Kaylan, who eye-bulges at me, because we both know who just yelled that. And also because he’s coming right over to us.

“So nice that everyone knows your name here,” my dad adds.

“Hey,” Golfy says, semi out of breath when he catches up to all of us. “Arianna, this is your fam?”

I nod. “Yes, my lovely family. Mom, Dad, Little Sis. And this is my best friend, Kaylan.”

“Hi, Best Friend Kaylan,” Golfy says, twisting his cap around so the brim is in the back. “Also hi, Mom, Dad, and Little Sis. I’m Jonah. But everyone here calls me Golfy.”

“Hello,” my dad says, in the most awkward dad tone I’ve ever heard.

“Nice to meet you, uh, Golfy, you said?” My mom smiles her classic side-tilt smile; it’s what she does when she’s trying to figure someone out.

“Yup! You guys enjoying visiting day?”

Everyone nods.

“Loving it,” Kaylan adds.

“Totally,” Golfy says, his hands on his hips, like he’s trying to think of something else to say. “Well, I better get back to my game, so have fun and I’ll see ya around.”

He runs back over to the soccer field, and we all stand there, watching him.

“Well, he was friendly!” my mom says with her eyebrows raised. I can tell she’s waiting for me to give some more information about Golfy, but I can’t give her that satisfaction. Also, I don’t really have any more information.

“Yup,” I reply. “Come on. Pottery studio. Move along, move along.”

Kaylan nudges my shoulder. “Your cheeks are redder than Golfy’s T-shirt right now. Just FYI.”

“Shh,” I reply. “They’re totally normal cheek color. I’m just tan, remember? Be cool, Kaylan.”

“I’m cool,” she says defensively.

“But isn’t he the cutest?” I whisper.

“He’s up there on the cute scale, for sure,” she replies.