Fall With Me

toned muscles. So while my parents thought I was doing it for the glory of all those championships, really, I was doing it for the glory of being with all those girls, and yes, there were plenty of them.
    This is what I think about as I swim. What I try not to think about is the fact that I could be going in the wrong direction and may never see solid ground again, or that I might be headed straight for a shark or an infestation of jellyfish. No, I push those thoughts to the very back of my mind and instead think of Sadie-Heather-Jen-Tara-Gwen-Alexa-Nicole . . . the list could go on forever . . .
    I stop periodically. Tread water. Dead man’s float. If something about my situation doesn’t change soon, that’s exactly what I’ll be, dead man floating. The sun is setting. My lips are dry, cracking, my muscles ache, but they’re nowhere near failing. These babies can go all night, and it’s looking like they’re going to have to. My brain buzzes from lack of sleep, but this isn’t the first time yours truly has had to do something completely strung out.
    Other things I think about aside from the girls: this alleged confession my father needs to make, worth approximately the same value as 7.2 million dollars and his son’s life. Or maybe worth more than that.
    My father is the CEO, president, and chairman of the Concord Frazier Group, a multinational conglomerate holding company. CFG owns a few airlines, several insurance companies, several more manufacturers, and a popular soft drink company. They even jumped on the natural food craze bandwagon a few years ago with Organica, that whole food company that touts itself as being “as natural as if you just dug it out of the ground, but as convenient as if you just pulled it out of the microwave.”
    My relationship with my father wasn’t always so contentious. Somewhere, in some forgotten-about desk drawer somewhere, there might even be a photograph or two of Dad and I. Look, there I am, seven years old, at Yankees Stadium, Cam, ten years old, sandwiched between me and Dad. Or at nine, on Dad’s yacht, me with a huge grin on my face because I love being out on the water, Dad trying to look like he’s not about to toss his cookies.
    Something happened, though, right around the time I turned thirteen. Maybe it’s because I grew taller than him, or because my voice got deeper than his, or any number of things, but one day it seemed like Dad woke up and decided he just didn’t like me anymore. He didn’t laugh at my jokes, he didn’t come to my swim competitions, he said he was busy with work and that was that. It’s like he made up his mind and never looked back, which is basically how he lives his life. Maybe it’s because he realized Cam could fulfill everything he wanted in a son, so I was just extra, unnecessary, a needless liability.
    I’m about to start swimming again when I see movement against the sky. Birds, flying away from the setting sun. Birds fly back to land at dusk. I smile, and feel my lip split, but I don’t care. I’m going the right way. Land is near.
     

Chapter 6: Jill
     
    Sitting by the campfire is basically a part of every evening, but the main event that I think most of the kids look forward to is the Beach BBQ, which starts around six-thirty and doesn’t end until well into the night, when the tired campers crawl into the tents they’ve pitched in the sand at the edge of the beach. The other part of the fun is the fact that Bill and Lorrie turn in before the party commences, leaving the supervising up to me and the other counselors.
    The things that have gone on at the Beach BBQ are the stuff of legends, but the fact is, no one’s ever been hurt, lost, or gotten killed and the general consensus is that it’s the best part of the whole experience. It always takes place one week after the campers have arrived, kind of as a reward, as a way to say, Congratulations, you’ve made it this whole week—only two left to go.
    The kids are excited for the barbeque. It distracts them while we’re out on the morning trail ride, and at one point, Brett nearly falls off when his mount takes a misstep and stumbles coming down a gentle incline.
    When we get back, Allison is complaining because she doesn’t want to have to help get all the food ready.
    “I’m not really that good in the kitchen,” she says, as she eyes Brett, who’s playing Frisbee with a few other kids.
    “All you need to do is either make burgers or slice