Page 16 of Nerdplay
I decide to humor her. “I’d love to see it.”
She seems to be waging an internal debate. “Inclusiveness is our motto.”
“I thought your motto was ‘let your geek flag fly?’”
Courtney cocks her head, assessing me. “You seem like you could use a little help with that.” She opens the drawer and slaps a key on the desk. “Welcome to camp, Chucky.”
“It’s Charles, or Charlie. Nobody calls me Chucky.” Unless you’re a grade-A douche like Matt, who sometimes uses the nickname in an attempt to belittle me while appearing friendly.
“No one ever calls you Chucky, like the murderous doll?”
“Nope.” A tiny white lie never hurt anybody.
“Huh.”
“Why? Do I remind you of a murderous doll?”
“Must be the hair.”
I automatically smooth the top of my head. “Do your frames always match your outfit?”
She pinches the arm of her glasses. “I consider them part of the ensemble. If only you could see the red, white, and blue frames I wear on Flag Day. They’re shaped like stars.”
I try to picture someone like Courtney working in my office, but the image refuses to come. Most likely she’d be summoned to HR on her first day and told to ditch the funwear. I remember the day Rob Fuentes showed up with an earring and they gave him an ultimatum—lose the earring or lose the job. He quit. I thought it was a foolish decision given the amount of his student loans, but I gave him mad props for his commitment to his principles.
“Do I get a welcome tour?” The more I learn about the camp, the faster I can find my leverage and return to my comfortable life. Her office is the obvious starting point, but she seems like the type to have boxes of paperwork stuffed in the loft of a barn.
“Absolutely. Sorry, I should’ve offered. It’s been a few years since we’ve had a new camper. Everybody this year is a repeater, except one.” She smiles. “And now two.”
“Lucky me.”
I locate my cabin with the help of an impressive map that looks like it belongs in a fantasy novel. With a pitched roof, ruddy walls, and small, sparing windows, mine seems identical to the other residential cabins.
I toss my belongings on the bed and meet Courtney back at her office for the tour, where she hands me a printed schedule.
“It’s on the members-only page of the website, but as I mentioned, the connection is unreliable so it’s best to keep this with you. We’ll start there.” She points to the nearest building, which resembles the other cabins, except for the sign on the door that reads ‘Danger Zone.’
Inside is a selection of tables—I spot an assortment of Legos on one, a chess set on the second, and basic science equipment on the third. At present there’s only one person occupying the space, a girl who looks far too young to be attending an 18+ retreat.
“Charlie, meet Olivia.”
The girl pulls her face away from the microscope. “I’m going to bring back dinosaurs like Jurassic Park, and this campground is the perfect place to experiment.”
“Because it’s isolated?” I ask.
“And plenty of food. Dinosaurs eat a lot.”
I shoot a nervous glance at Cricket. “She means the cafeteria, right?”
“Officially, yes,” Olivia says, as she shakes her head no.
I strain to listen. “Do I hear music?”
Olivia holds up her phone. “I play the theme song on a continuous loop for inspiration.”
“Good luck, Liv. Let us know when we should prepare for the raptors.” Courtney eases us out and closes the door.
“Should we be worried about that?” I ask, as we walk to the neighboring building.
