Page 26 of Hate You, Maybe
SAILOR.
This can’t be a coincidence. I flash back to countless teachers, students, parents, coworkers, neighbors—everyone in my life for the past twenty-eight years—who misunderstood my name. My mom couldn’t have made me one of the million Emilys or Samanthas or Ashleys or even Victorias born the same year I was. Instead I spent my childhood in front of a classroom as the new girl at school, with everyone laughing when I told them my name.
Ignoring the fresh splinters in my stomach, I take my tag over to Bob, who’s in front of the office, chatting with Caroline. Dex comes along with me. Lulu Leggings follows.
I mean Victoria/Tori.
“Hey there!” Bob adjusts his chin strap. “I see you got your tag!”
“Yes, but I just wanted to tell you my name is Say-LAH, not Sail-OR.” I almost add a “sorry” to the end of my statement, but I did nothing wrong. The misprint isn’t Bob’s fault either. It’s just a mistake. A common one at that. Still, I deserve to have my tag corrected.
“Ah, yes!” His gaze bounces between me and Dexter. “You two are here from Stony Peak High.”
I press a smile onto my face. “That’s right. I’m Sayla Kroft.”
“I see.” He squints down at my tag. “Well. We can just fix your name with a little Sharpie.”
“Sharpie works as a temporary solution,” Dexter says. He’s so close, his deep voice vibrates in my chest. “But we’ll need a new tag for Sayla as soon as possible.”
We’ll need.
When did Dex and I become awe?
On the one hand, his gesture of solidarity is surprisingly gallant, and the twinge of discomfort that usually shows up when people confuse my name softens a bit. Then again, Idon’t want to soften toward Dexter. I can’t afford to view the man as anything but my opponent. At the end of the day, we’re competitors going after the same trophy.
The grant.
And the entire performing arts community at Stony Peak High is counting on me to win.
“If I recall,” Bob says, tugging his beard, “Hildy’s the one who registered you as a last-minute add-on. She’s the other director, and she took your information over the phone instead of online.” He glances at the open door to the office and lowers his voice. “Don’t tell her I said so, but Hildy’s not exactly known for her good hearing.”
“I sure heardthat!” A tugboat of a woman with wild dark curls emerges from the cabin and stalks toward us. She’s wearing track pants in highlighter yellow and a matching windbreaker with racing stripes up the sleeves.
“Oops.” Bob tosses us an exaggerated wince. “This is the other director, Hildy.” He produces a Sharpie from his fanny pack and makes the fix on my tag. “Apologies, Sailor.” He winks, handing the tag back to me. “We’ll get you a new tag by tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” I say.
Also, get me a new nickname, please.
Meanwhile, Hildy moves past us to the edge of the clearing, where she hops onto a tree stump. Bob joins her, and she blows a whistle in two short bursts. Clusters of retreat guests stop their individual conversations and swing their attention over to them.
“Okay, people, listen up!” Bob calls out. “Hildy and I are going to let you settle into your cabins real quick, then we’ll reconnoiter here for a complete tour of the camp.”
Dex leans over and whispers, “I don’t remember connoitering in the first place. Is connoitering even a thing?”
“Shhh.”
“After the tour,” Bob continues, “We’ll have our first team-building exercise of the retreat.”
“Woo-hoo!” Hildy pumps her fist, even as a prickle of nerves climbs up my spine. I hope whoever my roommate is, she’ll like me. I press a smile on my face, determined to make a good impression, and send out a silent prayer to the universe that she’s someone smiley and kind, like Caroline.
“Your sleeping quarters are over there,” Bob says, pointing to the stretch of smaller cabins at the edge of the forest. “Each one has two extra-long twin mattresses and a small private bathroom.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Please note the elk antlers mounted above the beds were all naturally shed. No creatures were harmed in the decorating of these cabins.”
“We aren’t fancy here,” Hildy pipes up. “But the toilets are clean and the bedding is comfortable.”
Bob checks his watch. “So go get your stuff dropped off, then meet us back here in a half hour.”
Off to the side, the redhead, Caroline, raises her hand. “How do we find out where we’re staying?”
