Same Love Read online

  “I knew there wasn’t any cell reception at the camp. I didn’t realize you were taking our phones away.”

  “Screens get between you and God.”

  “Can’t I keep it until we get to the camp?” I’m not married to my phone, but I just got it back. I wanted to text Mike and let him know that I’m okay.

  “Trust me, you’ll thank me for taking this away. Everyone does,” Brian says.

  I give him my phone, which he puts in a plastic Ziploc bag with my name on it.

  “Do you have any books or magazines with you?” he asks me.

  “I was going to read Archie Digest on the bus.”

  “I loved Archie when I was your age,” Brian says. “But I’m afraid Archie is on the list of banned reading material. I’m going to have to take that too.”

  “You said you love Archie.”

  “That was before they introduced a gay character.”

  “Kevin Keller isn’t in this issue!”

  “You’ll get it back at the end of the summer with your phone. By then, you probably won’t even want it.”

  Brian throws the comic book into the bag with my phone. He pulls a bound book out of the bag hanging over his shoulder. “Here’s a copy of the camp handbook. You can read that to pass the time.”

  “Can I keep my sketchbook at least?” I ask.

  “Oh for sure. Go find a seat on the bus while I load your bag into the luggage van,” Brian says.

  I watch Brian drag my duffel bag to a waiting van, and then I step onto the bus. It feels like the first day of school. The bus is about half full. Most everyone has their own seat, and are either pretending to be asleep or pretending I’m invisible. I start walking down the aisle hoping someone will make room for me. I strike gold about halfway down the bus.

  “Take a load off.” A girl with mischievous eyes scoots over to the window seat.

  “Thanks,” I say as I take the aisle seat next to her. “I’m Adam.”

  “Rhonda. What are you in for?”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “You’re some kind of sinner. It’s written all over your face.”

  “I had an abortion.”

  “You have a sick sense of humour. I like that.”

  “I’m gay,” I whisper. “Can’t you tell from my lisp? What are you in for?”

  “My parents caught me having sex with my boyfriend.”

  “Brutal.”

  “And he’s Muslim.”

  “Ouch.”

  Once Brian is on the bus, it lurches forward and out of the Walmart parking lot.

  Rhonda and I flip through the Camp Revelation handbook as we drive up the Sea to Sky highway. The handbook is a centimetre-thick stack of photocopied pages filled with numbered lists and typos. The camp organizers have managed to come up with a rule for every possible sin we could commit. There are rules about the length of our hair (public, not pubic). Rules about how long we can be alone in the bathroom (15 minutes). Rules about touching other campers (handshakes are allowed but no lingering hands on shoulders). Rules about the books we can read and the music we can listen to (Christian or nothing). My favourites are the rules about our underwear (no Calvin Klein).

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t pack my thong,” I whisper to Rhonda. She cackles like a mad woman.

  “I can hear you two,” Brian shouts from the front of the bus. He checks his list. “Adam and Rhonda, if you don’t behave I’m going to separate you.”

  “See how you are? You’re already getting me in trouble,” Rhonda says.

  I open my new sketchbook on my lap. I can smell the clean white sheets of paper. The book’s spine crackles a little as I flatten the cover. I take a pencil out of the pack and begin to draw a silly picture of Brian while Rhonda watches, enthralled. The tension from saying goodbye to Mom slowly slips away. So does the city, as streets and buildings give way to trees and mountains. Maybe Camp Revelation was what I needed after all.

  04

  Room 120

  We turn off the Sea to Sky highway onto an old road that hugs the side of a mountain. The trees act as blinds as we pass them by, letting in sticks of light that blind us every five seconds. The hill is so steep it feels like someone is lifting the bus from the front. The higher we get, the harder it is not to imagine us going over the side of the cliff. The bus grinds its way up the gravel road, past the tree line. There’s nothing but mountain peaks for miles around. I can see the Pacific Ocean in the distance and the light reflecting off the glass skyscrapers in Vancouver.

  The bus makes another turn. Now the landscape looks like the surface of a deserted planet. There are large patches of brown grass and small clumps of trees. I breathe a sigh of relief when we reach level ground again. The bus stops in front of a lodge the size of a McMansion.

  “Would you get a load of that thing?” Rhonda says.

  “It looks like the house in Hansel and Gretel.”

  “Totally.”

  “We’re here!” Brian shouts back at us.

  We shuffle off the bus like senior citizens in line at Tim Hortons. Two women and a man dressed in the camp uniform come out of the lodge to greet us.

  “All right everyone,” Brian shouts, clapping his hands. “Kindly gather your bags from the luggage van. The counsellors and I will give you your room assignments.”

  I get in line behind Rhonda. When it’s my turn, I speak to another guy in his twenties holding a clipboard. He kind of looks like Brian’s evil twin.

  “Welcome to Camp Revelation. I’m Brad,” he says. “And you are?”

  “Adam Lethbridge.”

  “You’re in room 120. Just go in and take a left down the first hall off of the common area. There’s a map in your handbook if you get lost,” Brad says. “Your bunkmates arrived this morning. Brian will be by in a bit to see if you need anything.”

  I lug my duffel bag onto my shoulder and head into the lodge. The first thing I see is a huge living room that looks like it hasn’t changed since the sixties. It reminds me of a villain’s secret lair in an old spy movie. This is awesome!

  I walk down the hall looking for room 120. All the doors are open and I can see into people’s rooms. I feel awkward, staring at the boys relaxing on their bunks as I scan the door numbers. Room 120 is at the end of the hall. There are bunk beds on each side of the room. I see two of my new roommates reading on the lower bunks. I knock gently on the door. They lower their books and give me the once over.

  “Hi. I’m Adam.” I wave a meek hello.

  The guy on the right side of the room sets aside his Bible and gets up from the bed.

  “Nice to meet you, Adam. I’m Randall. That’s Martin.” He points to the shaggy-haired First Nations guy on the opposite bunk. “Paul? Aren’t you going to say hello to our new friend?” Randall yells up to the top bunk.

  An Asian guy sits up in his bunk. His hair is pushed to one side from lying on it.

  “What now?” Paul snarls.

  I can tell this guy is going to be a barrel of laughs for the summer. But his rudeness makes him sort of attractive. So do his dark eyes and the way his perfect lips curl when he snarls. What’s wrong with me?

  “Let me help you with your things,” Randall says, taking my duffel bag from me. “We saved you a dresser drawer. And there’s a closet near the front of the room if you need to hang anything.”

  All the attention from Randall is making me nervous. The look in his eyes reminds me of the creepy men who would hit on me at the bookstore where I worked.

  “Are you settling in, Adam?” Brian pokes his head into our room. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he says, “This is Randall’s second year at the camp. He should be able to answer any questions. Otherwise, everything you need to know is in your handbook.”

  “I’m sure I can fulfill all of Adam’s needs,” Randall says.

  Martin groans from behind a paperback copy of Left Behind — the Christian thriller about The Rapture.

  “I expect to see all of you at the icebreaker tonight. If you need me, my room is at the end of the hall.” And like that, Brian is gone.

  “You have to see our view. It’s incredible,” Randall says. He leads me to an old desk and chair next to the open window. “Have a seat and breathe in that fresh mountain air.”

  “Give the guy some space, Randall,” Martin says. “He just got here.”

  “You’ll have to excuse Martin. He’s already decided he hates it here,” Randall explains.

  “I heard that,” Martin says.

  “I wanted you to.”

  Paul breaks in. “Get a room, you two.”

  “Give me a break,” Randall says. “I wouldn’t kiss Martin for all the tea in China. Sorry, Paul. That was racist.”

  “I’m Korean, so no offence taken,” Paul says.

  “Well don’t just stand there,” Randall says, turning to me. “Have a seat.”

  I lower my butt into the chair and make myself comfortable. Randall is right. The view is amazing. My fingers are itching to get it down in my sketchbook.

  “You got him to sit in the chair. Are you happy now, Randall?” Martin asks.

  “I’m just being friendly,” Randall snaps back.

  “You’re being a stalker,” Martin says.

  “Are you guys going to act like this the entire month?” Paul asks. I can tell he’s already tired of it. “This is supposed to be a retreat.”

  “Martin started it,” Randall says under his breath as he goes back to his bed to sulk.

  I stay seated in the chair even though I rea
lly need to pee. I’m afraid that if I get up, it’s going to start another argument between Martin and Randall. I close my eyes and try to take my mind off my bladder. And then it hits me. I’ve only been here for ten minutes, and I already feel like I don’t belong here.

  05

  The Icebreaker

  Randall will not shut up about the stupid icebreaker. It’s all he talks about through dinner and after we get back to our room. I can see why he gets on Martin’s nerves.

  “I don’t know why you’re so excited,” Martin says to Randall. “It’s not like there’s going to be any booze.”

  “You don’t need booze to have fun at a party,” Randall says.

  “Have you ever been to a party?” Martin asks him.

  “Our church has a social every month,” Randall says proudly.

  “Give me a break,” Martin huffs. “Even Jesus drank wine at the Last Supper.”

  “That’s not funny,” Randall says.

  “Actually it was a little funny,” Paul says. Was that the hint of a smile?

  “I expected more from you, Paul,” Randall says.

  “Based on what?” Paul asks.

  Time for a change of subject. “What should I wear?” I ask as I go through my clothes. “A polo top and khakis? Or a polo top and khakis?”

  “Take a risk. How about a polo top and khakis?” Paul suggests.

  Hmm. This Paul guy knows how to pick up and carry a joke. He’s more than a pretty face.

  “If you three are going to be like this for the rest of the summer I’m going to ask to be moved into another room,” Randall complains.

  “Promise?” says Martin hopefully.

  Randall closes his eyes and tries to pull himself together. Something tells me he enjoys being teased more than he lets on. It’s probably the most attention he’s had in months.

  The icebreaker is being held in the mess hall where we ate dinner. The tables have been moved aside and the walls decorated with balloons and streamers. A refreshment table is set up. Christian pop music is playing on an mp3 player that’s plugged into some speakers.

  “And I thought high school dances were tragic,” someone says in my ear. I turn around and see Rhonda. She’s standing next to a plain-looking girl with straight blonde hair.

  “How’s it going?” I ask, wondering if I look as gay as I feel when I give her a hug. “Guys, this is Rhonda. We met on the bus. Rhonda, these are my roommates Paul, Martin, and Randall.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Rhonda says. “This is my roommate Sarah, who has already called me a slut because I’m not a virgin.”

  “I didn’t call you a slut,” says Sarah, rolling her eyes. “I implied it. I’m going to talk to Martha.”

  Rhonda watches Sarah walk away. “I’m so going to turn her into a lesbian before the summer is over.”

  “You’re a lesbian?” Randall asks her.

  “No. I’m a slut, remember?”

  “We are totally hanging out this summer,” Martin says to Rhonda.

  “So, Adam, what do you think so far?” Rhonda asks.

  “I’m loving this lodge,” I reply. “It’s like something out of the Gold Rush.”

  “It’s cool isn’t it?” says Paul.

  “It’s probably First Nations land,” Martin says.

  “Don’t be silly,” Randall says. “It was meant to be a ski resort in the sixties but the developer ran out of money. You can still see the cement pilings for the ski lift on the side of the mountain.”

  “I have to admit the view takes my mind off the fact that I’m here,” Rhonda says.

  I’m just about to agree when a voice comes over the speakers. “Can I have your attention please?”

  We all look in the direction of the refreshments table, where a man with a comb-over is standing with a mic. He is by far the oldest person I have seen since I got here. Something about him disturbs me. Is it that his polo top doesn’t quite cover his belly? Or that his smile doesn’t seem real, like he practises it in the mirror?

  “I’m Bishop Andrews, the founder of Camp Revelation,” he announces. “I want to welcome everyone to another summer at Camp Revelation. For those of you who are returning: welcome back. For the newcomers: welcome to the flock. I would like to introduce you all to your camp counsellors. Please give a big round of applause for Brian, Brad, Tania, and Becky.”

  The four counsellors jog to form a line next to Bishop and wave to us.

  “So Brian and Brad aren’t the same person,” I say.

  When Paul giggles a little, it warms my heart.

  Randall shushes us with a frown.

  “Before we begin your best summer ever, I would like to say a little prayer,” Bishop says. We bow our heads as Bishop asks God to bless us with a fun and safe summer filled with His love. As soon as Bishop says, “Amen,” the icebreaker turns into a party again.

  ***

  I have a better time at the icebreaker than I thought I would. I ended up meeting a ton of people. I just assumed that the other campers would be uptight Christians like Greta and Michelle Harris. There are a few of those, but for the most part everyone seems okay.

  “All right, everybody,” Brian says into the microphone. “Time for karaoke!”

  “Who wants to do a duet with me?” Paul says. Randall, Martin, and Rhonda all take a giant step back, leaving me alone next to Paul.

  “I can’t sing,” I tell him.

  “Neither can I,” he says. “That’s what makes karaoke so fun.”

  “Promise you won’t hold it against me if we get booed off the stage,” I tell him.

  “I promise,” he says. “Do you like Carrie Underwood?”

  “I love Carrie Underwood,” I say. I’ve never listened to Carrie Underwood.

  “Cool. Want to do ‘Jesus, Take the Wheel’?”

  “Why not?”

  “Guys aren’t supposed to sing duets,” Randall says. I can tell he thinks it’s akin to making out in public.

  “Have you ever heard of Simon and Garfunkel?” Rhonda asks him.

  “I don’t listen to hip hop,” says Randall.

  “They’re not . . . forget it,” she sighs and rolls her eyes.

  Paul and I are the first to perform. Paul wasn’t kidding when he said he couldn’t sing. He’s not only got a terrible voice, but he’s also tone deaf.

  “Get off the stage,” I hear Rhonda shout at us. But Paul only sings louder.

  “That was fun,” Paul says when the song is over.

  “I can’t believe you made me do that,” I say. “We were so bad, I could hear wolves howling for us to stop.”

  “You’re funny,” Paul punches me on the shoulder. “Sorry I was such a grouch earlier. I don’t like being woken up.”

  “I’ll remember that for the future.”

  “Are you okay? You’re sweating.”

  “It’s really hot in here.”

  “Want to go outside for some fresh air?”

  “With you?”

  “I could find Randall if you’d rather go with him,” Paul says with a sly smile.

  “No! I mean . . . I don’t know what I mean.”

  “Let’s just go outside.”

  Paul leads me out to the deck that circles the lodge. I lean against the railing and look up at the sky.

  “The stars look close enough to touch,” I say.

  “They’re incredible aren’t they? I feel like Columbus crossing the Atlantic with nothing but the stars to guide him,” Paul says.

  “I wish I could use my astrology app to see which stars these are,” I say.

  “There’s Mars,” Paul says, pointing to the sky.

  “Where?” I ask him.

  Paul comes up next me and levels his arm with my eyes. I stop breathing. He’s so close to me, I can feel the heat from his body.

  “See that big red dot? That’s it there. And see that there? That’s the International Space Station.”

  A moment of silence is broken by Randall’s voice. “There you guys are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Paul and I jump apart. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Paul was just showing me the International Space Station,” I say.

  “Where?” asks Randall.

  “That really bright star there,” I tell him, pointing to it.