Page 71 of My Star-Crossed Summer

“Do you have your EpiPen?” I remember from our student files that she brought two with her.

She squeezes her eyes shut like she’s in pain, and my heart bangs against my ribs. That first aid class I took before camp started covered how to use the pen, so I can do it if I have to.

“I’m not supposed to waste them,” she says. “It has to be an emergency.”

I don’t want to scare her, but I want her to understand this is serious. “Sweetie, this is a time when you need it,” I tell her.

Her lip trembles.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” I tell her. “But we’ve got this.”

“I don’t want to,” she says, shaking her head. Her breathing is a little labored, and the swelling and red blotches are concerning. She needs the injection. “I’ve never done it myself before,” she says. “This only happened once before, at home.”

I hold her hand. “I’ll help you, okay?”

She squeezes my fingers tight and says, “I hate needles.”

“Me too,” I tell her. “The good news is that this is a small one, and it only takes a second.”

“Here’s her EpiPen,” Layla says, rushing over.

I think through the steps I learned in the first-aid session, then pop the cap off the pen as Priya squeezes her eyes shut again.

“On three, okay?” I ask her. “Right here.” I touch a spot on her outer thigh, right below the hem of her sleep shorts, and she nods.

I count to three in a hurry and jam the pen against her skin, hearing the loud click of the autoinjector as Sophie bursts into the room with Becca.

“We were just watching a movie on my laptop,” Layla tells Sophie, “And then she started wheezing.”

Sophie looks at me and I give her a quick nod. She’s got the portable phone from the lounge in her hand. Her expression’s calm, but I can tell she’s blasting through her mental checklist.

“Priya,” I say. “How do you feel now? Is it still hard to breathe?”

She shakes her head. “Getting better now,” she wheezes.

“Any idea what you ate?” I ask her. “Or how much?”

She points toward the beds, where food wrappers lay scattered by the laptop. “We just pooled our snacks,” she said. “Thought they were all safe.”

“It’s okay,” Sophie tells her, giving me a weary look. “You just rest a minute.” She pulls me toward the door and lowers her voice. “I’ll go get Roxy. You stay here. We need to take her the hospital. The EpiPen is only a temporary fix.”

I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets so no one sees them shaking. “Okay.”

But this is very much not okay. When I take a closer look at the bed, I see a plate with two partially-eaten cookies that I ordered from the bakery and a knot forms in my chest. The most important part of this job was to keep these kids safe—and I failed.

Sophie helpsPriya into the back seat of the rental car and then climbs into the driver’s seat. Roxy nudges my shoulder and says, “Good job in there. I’ll call the land line with any updates, but I expect we’ll be there overnight.”

I nod, still clutching the portable phone from the cabin. Roxy waves as Sophie eases out of the parking lot and onto the gravel road that winds down the mountain.

I don’t feel like I’ve done a good job here. I feel like I’ve barely been hanging on, and tonight was the last straw. I’m way out of my depth, and this is my fault. If those cookies caused Priya’s reaction, I’ll never forgive myself. I was so careful when I placed the order, so explicit with my instructions. I thought I’d figured out how to do this job, and I let myself get comfortable, let myself feel like I belonged here. I was distracted by Noah and this tidal wave of feelings, and now I’ve made this colossal mistake.

The perfectionist in me is raging, her argument simple: if I was good enough for this job, for these kids, I wouldn’t have made this error.

“Hey,” Noah says, giving my shoulder a nudge. “How about I make us some tea.” He’s changed into a white tee shirt and jeans, his hair wild from raking his hands through it.

“I need something way stronger than tea,” I mutter, knowing full well that option isn’t on the table.

“Well,” he says. “Under normal circumstances, I’d be able to help you with that. But since we’re at a kids’ camp, I can offer you tea, juice, and hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.”

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