Janegirl Camp
Chapter 8
Copyright 2022 by Heather Rose Brown

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I flopped into a chair at the last empty table in activity room four. My shaking knees thanked me, but my butt complained about the hard, plastic seat it landed in. I took a quick look at the kids sitting nearby. So far, nobody seemed to be staring at my sorta-girlish-but-not-really clothes.

Phil stood beside me, leaned towards the cardboard box and ceramic bowls in the middle of the table, then said, "Oooo ... these look pretty!"

After silently apologizing to my butt, I looked up at Phil and asked, "Whatcha find?"

My friend hummed while digging through both of the bowls, then sat beside me and said, "Take a look." Shiny buttons and sparkling beads clattered and bounced when Phil poured a tiny treasure pile onto the table.

Casey giggled while sitting on the other side of his sibling, then asked, "Ya got any idea what those are gonna be used for?"

Phil shrugged and said, "Not really, but I'm sure Miss Stetson gots somethin' fun planned."

Casey smiled at his twin, then said, "That's for sure! She's always comin' up with neat ideas."

"You've done activities with her before?" I asked my friends.

"Oh yeah," Phil said while nodding. "All the stuff we made with her last year was lotsa fun, and her instructions were pretty easy."

I turned from my friends to the sheet in front of me, then groaned when I started reading.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked.

I sighed, then said, "It looks like we gotta know how to do braiding." I thought of how pretty my hair always looked when Daddy ... Dad braided it for me, and the mess I made when I tried doing it myself.

I rested my forehead on the instruction sheet and groaned again, then said, "I'm seriously awful at braiding."

"Don't worry," Phil whispered, tickling my ear with their warm breath. "I've braided Casey's hair lotsa times. I can help ya, if you'd like."

Feeling a little more hopeful, I lifted my head, and and smiled at my friend. I was about to thank them for the offer, when somebody tapped my shoulder. After turning my head nearly halfway around, a skinny girl with long, silvery-blonde hair gave me a bright smile.

The smile didn't match the deep sadness in her pale blue eyes when she said, "Be careful 'round him."

"Be careful 'round who?" Phil asked.

The look in her eyes darkened when she turned to them and said, "I can't believe you're flirtin' with another girl already."

Phil gave her a blank look, then asked, "Whatcha talkin' about, Xana?"

The girl propped her fists on her hips and said, "You know *exactly* what I'm talkin' about."

Casey glared at Xana and said, "Wouldja give up on them already?"

Xana's brows rose when she looked at Casey and asked, "Them who?"

Phil frowned while drumming their pink fingernails on the table. A determined look grew in their steel blue eyes, but they still sounded nervous when they said, "I'm them." They folded their hands in their lap, then added, "I ... ummm ... changed pronouns."

The girl glanced at Phil's hands, studied their kinda-sorta floofy top for a moment, then looked at my friend's face again and asked, "Ya mean ... ya stopped bein' a boy?"

"I'm still a boy ... sorta," they said, then added in a quieter voice, "but I'm ... experimenting."

"I shoulda guessed," Xana said while rolling her eyes.

"Shoulda guessed what?" I asked.

The girl tilted her head towards Phil while saying, "She said she wasn't interested in me last year, 'cause she's a girl."

I pushed down the anger that flared up when I heard one of my friends being misgendered. My chair scraped across the formica tiled floor when I stood. Some of the chatter around us faded when I looked Xana square in the eye and said, "Experimentin' don't make somebody a girl."

Xana snorted, then said, "Just 'cause ya wanna be her girlfriend don't mean ya know everything about her."

Anger, confusion, and embarrassment bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, turning my stomach cold, and my face warm. I shoved her shoulder and said, "Take it back!" although I wasn't sure which part I wanted her to take back.

"Hey!" Xana said. "Don't gimme your lezzie germs," she added while shoving me in the chest with both hands.

The rest of the room grew quiet when I said, "I ain't no lezzie, you ... you lezzie!"

She grabbed a handful of my hair and said with growl in her voice, "You take that back."

"OUCH!" I shouted when she gave my hair a sharp yank. I dug my fingers into the thick, silky hair on the side of her head, and said, "You take whatcha said back first!"

"Xanadu Drake," said a firm, adult voice. "Ezekiel McGlyph," the voice added.

I tried turning my head when I heard my name. The dull ache on the side of scalp grew when I did that. I turned my eyes instead, and saw Miss Stetson looking between me and the girl holding onto my hair.

The activity host shook her head, then said, "What's gotten into you two?"

Xana pulled at my hair and said, "She started it!"

I yelped, then said, "Nuh uh!" while tugging at her hair. I only felt a little guilty when she winced.

Miss Stetson wrapped her fingers around my wrist, then did the same thing to Xana, before saying, "First, I want you both to let go of each other."

"But--" Xana said.

"No buts," the adult cut in with a hint of anger in her voice.

When the grip on my hair loosened, I opened my fist, and wriggled my fingers free.

"That's better," Miss Stetson said while letting go of our wrists. "Next, I'd like you to follow me."

"Where we goin'?" I asked while letting my hand drop to my side.

The activity host looked from me to the girl I'd been arguing with, let out a very long sigh, then said, "I think this is something that needs to be brought to Ms Robert's attention."

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Except for the hum of the air conditioner in the window behind Ms Roberts desk, her office was quiet. Well ... there was the thumping of my heart in my ears, but I wasn't sure if that counted. I glanced over at Xana, and decided she looked as uncomfortable in her tall, wooden chair as I felt in mine.

The crisp sound of papers being shuffled brought my attention back to the woman sitting at the desk in front of us. After studying the top sheet for a few moments, Ms Roberts set the pages down in a neat pile, and closed her eyes.

"I'm very disappointed with both of you," she said while massaging the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Cold sweat trickled down my back when she looked at me and asked, "Did you start the fight?"

"Well ..." I said while trying to figure out how to be honest without getting myself in trouble.

"She pushed me first," my new arch nemesis said while pointing a trembling finger at me.

The camp director looked at her notes and said, "According to an update submitted by Mrs Shepherd, Zee's pronouns are he and him." She looked up at the girl beside me and asked, "Had you been asked to use different pronouns?"

Xana shook her head and said, "Well ... no, but it's obvious--"

Ms Roberts held up a hand, stifling the the rest of what my nemesis was about to say.

The directer pressed her lips into a thin line. After a short pause, she said, "Miss Drake, I realize how someone presents can lead to assumptions which may seem obvious. But, now that you know your fellow camper's pronouns, is there something you'd like to say to him?"

"But ... the way she, I mean he ... I mean ..." Xana bit her bottom lip, then turned to me and said, "I'm ... I'm sorry for assuming you're a girl. It's just ... the way ya look, and act, and--" She stopped when Ms Roberts cleared her throat.

My maybe ex-nemesis looked down at her bare knees, then started fiddling with the lacy hem of her dress. "I guess I got more to learn about gender stuff than I thought." She made a sound that might have been a sniffle, then looked up at me and said, "I'm just sorry for .. everything."

"Very good," Ms Roberts said in a stern, yet gentle voice. "Would you like to expand on what's included in 'everything'?"

My probably-almost-definitely-not nemesis turned to the camp director and said, "Well, I did pull her ... I mean his hair first. And ... umm ... I also called him a ... well, somethin' kinda rude."

Ms Roberts nodded, then turned to me with a no-nonsense look in her grey eyes, and asked, "Is there something you'd like to say?"

I turned to the girl beside me, gulped down a huge lump of regret, then said, "I'm sorry for losin' my temper, and shovin' ya first, and callin' ya ... that ... rude word."

"Thank you both," Ms Roberts said as she slipped the stack of papers into a folder, "Since this is a first offense for both of you, I think helping clean up after lunch would be appropriate."

Xana opened her mouth, then closed it again when the director arched a thin brow at her. I kept my mouth closed when Ms Roberts gaze shifted over to me.

After glancing from me to Xana, the woman sitting in front of us pressed one of the buttons on some electronic looking thing in the corner of her desk, and said, "Please send in the counselors for both Dandelion Cabin and Foxglove Cabin."

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The the bells hanging over the entrance to the admin building clanged and jingled when the door closed behind me. I held up a hand to shade my eyes from the late morning sun, then trudged down the sandy path behind Jessica.

My cabin counselor stopped, looked over her shoulder, then gave me a worried look when she asked, "Everything go okay in there?"

I took a few more steps until I was standing in front of her, then did a one-armed shrug while saying, "I dunno."

Jess tilted her head while looking at me, then held out a hand towards one of the larger pine trees lining the path, and said, "Wanna sit and talk?"

While I wasn't sure about talking, my legs weren't feeling especially steady, so I nodded and said, "Sure."

My counselor grinned, then ducked under some low branches, and sat down. The thick layer of needles under the tree were both soft and prickly when I sat next to her. I took a deep breath of cool, pine-scented air, then said, "I hope Daddy ... I mean Dad ... don't get mad at me."

Jessica picked up a rusty-brown pine needle, then said, "I know I only met him once, but I'm pretty good at getting a feel for people." She twirled the needle between her fingers while saying, "I suspect he may not get as upset as you might imagine."

She flicked the needle into the air, then gave me a gentle smile. "I also have a feeling he wouldn't mind ya calling him Daddy."

The friendship barrettes mentioned in the previous chapter, and almost made in this chapter, were inspired by braided barrettes I used to wish I could wear. A link on how to make those barrettes can be found at the *80s Style Ribbon Braided Barrette Tutorial page on the Wee Folk Art website.