Faith Falls

Hannah giggled. "We're not all like that. At least I don't think I'm like that. Maybe you should hang out with me instead. Especially now that we both know not to make fun of each other's names. That topic's off-limits, right?"

"Right," I said, smiling.

Hannah looked back over to the game and said, "I think we should probably watch the game and make sure they play fair. It doesn't look like Mark and Julie are watching too closely."

I looked at Mark and Julie and saw that neither of them were actually facing the field where the game was taking place.

Hannah smiled at me. "Well, anyway, it's nice to meet you, Tim."

"You too." I smiled back.

The first group of campers left that Friday night, and since the next group wouldn't arrive until Sunday afternoon, the time in-between was to be spent cleaning and maintaining the camp before the next round. That Saturday morning I was sweeping out my cabin when Jessica arrived at the screen door and let herself in.

"Hey, champ. I haven't seen you much lately," she said, not really making eye contact with me. I continued sweeping.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm just cleaning," I said.

"You wanna go for a walk?"

"Can't I finish this first?" I was getting somewhat annoyed.

"You can finish it later. It's just sweeping. There's plenty of time for that," she said.

Reluctantly, I agreed, so we walked along the same path we had been on the week before.

"I couldn't figure out why you ran off like that last week," Jessica said as we walked.

"I didn't know what it meant. What your signals meant."

"What signals?"

"You know, when you pulled your shirt down and shook your head at me. I thought maybe I did something wrong," I said.

"No, I just didn't know what you wanted to do," she said. Then, after a long pause, she added, "What did you want to do?"

"I don't know. I guess I wanted to, um, touch them, I guess." I said. I was blushing. I was starting to get hard again when the image of her naked breasts flashed into my mind.

"Oh," Jessica said, looking at the ground rather than at me. "Well, you can if you want. I was just scared."

I sighed, feeling tired of being toyed with, but full of curiosity and sexual energy. We stopped and stood there a few seconds, listening for any signs of nearby activity. There were none. Jessica led me about fifty feet off the trail, behind a decent wall of tree branches and bushes. Anybody who came along the trail would have a difficult time seeing us unless they were really looking.

Jessica unhooked her bra and pulled it out from under her shirt. Then, looking at me, she slowly lifted her shirt, exposing her breasts to my gaze again. I reached out and touched the right one, gingerly at first, feeling the soft skin. I traced my finger in a circle around the edge of her areola, then took her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She sighed and closed her eyes. I held her right breast, and then both, feeling the weight of them, feeling her nipples beneath my thumbs. Jessica pursed her lips, and I realized then that I didn't really like this girl and didn't want to kiss her. I let go of her breasts and she stood there staring at me. She looked hurt at first, and then kind of angry.

"Why did you stop?" she said.

"I don't know if I want to do this."

"Why the fuck not? You like girls, don't you?"

"Yes!" I hissed.

"Then what's your fucking problem, weirdo?" Jessica seethed with rage. I took a step back, because I thought that maybe she'd punch me.

"Listen, I want to see your dick. Show it to me!"

"No."

"Do it!" She was practically yelling now.

"No!"

"If you let me see your dick, I'll show you my pussy. I'll even let you touch it."

My resolve again crumbled, because I was curious to see it, and the thought of even being able to touch her there, to touch any girl there, was a strong temptation.

"Fine," I said. I walked over to her, held my breath, and pulled my swollen cock from my shorts. Jessica's eyes lit up when she saw it.

"Wow, not bad!"

"Really?" It was news to me. I had never compared it with anyone else's.

"Yeah," she said, and she grabbed it. Her grip was rough, and I didn't like it. I had imagined that the first time a woman held my cock would be gentler and more romantic than that. But there was nothing gentle or romantic about Jessica.

She didn't stroke it or anything. She just held it tight, like she was trying to crush it. I was annoyed and confused. I was just glad that she hadn't taken my balls in her vice grip hands instead.

"Okay, weirdo, touch my pussy if you want," she said, releasing her grip on my cock. She was frowning at me. She held the front of her shorts out, and I saw a mass of thick, black hair against the white of her underwear. I put my hand into her shorts, into her underwear, feeling the wiry hair against my fingertips. She didn't offer any resistance, so my fingers explored deeper and found her slit, which was well-lubricated. She started to breathe heavily when my fingers reached the wetness, and although I didn't know what I was doing it seemed that she was enjoying it. I slipped a finger into her vagina and begin to move it in and out of her. I could hear wet sucking sounds as I fingered her, and I added a second finger to it. She spread her legs further and held herself up by leaning her arm on my shoulder. My knees strained under the weight, but my hormones had taken over and I wanted to keep exploring her.

After a few minutes, I found her clit and began to rub it. Jessica enjoyed this even more, as evidenced by her breathing. Her legs were now spread wide enough that I could reach underneath her. For some reason, I had the impulse to touch her asshole. This turned out to be a big mistake, because shortly after my wandering fingertip found it, she pulled my hand out of her shorts violently.

"You freak!" she yelled. "What is wrong with you? That's my asshole!"

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted me to touch you there," I said, my voice sounding weak.

"'I'm sorry, I duh duh duh duh duh!" she said, mocking me. "Just wait until I tell everyone what you tried to do, fuckface."

"No, no, don't!" I said. My mind was spinning. I realized that my cock was still hanging out of my shorts, so I quickly remedied that. Jessica laughed, and then turned around and walked quickly back towards camp. Part of me knew that she wouldn't tell anyone what happened, but that rational part of me had trouble raising its voice above the panic that was overwhelming me. What had I done? Would I be forced to leave camp? What would I tell my parents? Tears started to form in my eyes, and when I wiped them away, my nose caught the scent of Jessica's vaginal juices on my fingers. It was not a bad scent, not at all, actually, but it was evidence of my weakness and the wave of guilt that was washing over me, and the scent of it tickled my gag reflex. I lost my breakfast there in the woods, and even after my stomach stopped heaving, I thought I was going to pass out. My head spun and I had to close my eyes. I knelt there for several minutes, then sheepishly made my way back to camp.

I walked into the men's bathroom, relieved to find it empty. Everyone else was busy at their cabins or working somewhere else at Faith Falls. Underneath my nausea I could feel a sensation of my balls hurting. Blue balls. This is the first time I had ever experienced it. I hadn't masturbated since arriving at camp, even after seeing Jessica's breasts the previous week. I felt that I needed to take care of that or else I'd have trouble walking the rest of the day. I sat in a stall, my cock in one hand. I breathed in Jessica's scent again and found it easy to masturbate to climax quickly, despite being so upset with her and with myself. I ejaculated long, thick globs of semen, a build-up of more than three weeks. When it was done, I felt nothing but shame. The scent that had brought me to climax made me feel nauseous again. I washed my hands thoroughly, returned to my cabin, and lay in my bed for a while, listening for laughing voices or any other sign that my terrible story was being told around camp. Hearing nothing but the whispers of leaves, I began to cry softly. I hated Jessica. I hated myself. I hated Faith Falls Christian Camp. I wished I were dead.

After crying, I lay there staring at the rough-hewn beams of the cabin roof. I lay there for probably an hour or more, ignoring the sound of the lunch bell, which was actually just a recording of a lunch bell played over the PA system that was strung around camp.

The wind picked up outside and it started to drizzle a bit. I felt homesick, and I choked down tears as I thought about sitting on my porch at home, reading a nice book. I seriously considered walking to the administration building and telling them I couldn't hoof it anymore. They'd probably try to talk me out of it --they'd tell me I was just homesick and that it would pass, and that I needed a stronger spine and stronger faith-- but I wouldn't budge. I'd simply turn around and walk out the door, ignoring their protests. Then I'd come back here and pack my suitcases. It would take all of five minutes to do. It would be so easy.

My daydream was interrupted by a knocking on my cabin's screen door. I looked towards the door and saw Hannah Rose standing on the other side. She gave me a nervous smile and a little wave. I felt embarrassed for her to see me in this state, so I turned away and hoped she would take the hint. She didn't. She opened the door and stood just inside for several moments. I was turned away from her, so I couldn't see what she was doing, but I imagine she was looking puzzled and struggling to find the right words.

"Are you okay? You look sick," she said. I didn't answer for several seconds.

"I'm o-okay." I could feel my throat seizing up, and I realized I was probably a little dehydrated.

"I brought you some lunch. You weren't at the cafeteria," she said.

"Did an-anyone notice?"

She paused for a few seconds, then said, "I noticed. I grabbed you some food on the way out."

I turned back to look at her. She had taken a few steps towards me and was standing about ten feet from me. There was a look of concern when she saw my tear-stained face and red eyes.

"Thanks," I said. I was genuinely touched.

"You've been crying?"

"A little."

Hannah sat on the bunk closest to my bed and laid the paper plate of food beside her.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asked. I knew I couldn't.

"I'm okay. Maybe a little homesick." This was not the whole truth, but it was part of it.

"I understand. It happens to all of us, I think," Hannah said. "It happened to me a lot last year. I wasn't sure how I'd get through it. But after a few more weeks it was gone. This place sort of became like home to me."

"I don't think that will happen to me. I don't think this place will ever be like home," I said.

"You've had kind of a rough start. I'm kind of shy, myself. I don't make friends too easily," Hannah said.

"You seem to be doing okay."

"That's because I was here last year and I know most of these people. Most of them aren't really friends, but they're familiar faces. They got used to me, and they treat me okay."

"Yeah, but you're you. You're not me. I don't think I'll ever fit in with any of them," I said. I was feeling miserable and angry.

"I don't think it's you, Tim. You're not the problem," Hannah said, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Most of these people, they all come from the same circle of churches. I'd say probably half of them are from First Baptist in Greendale. They're cliquish. They look at outsiders with some sort of suspicion. You had that going against you the moment you arrived here. And believe it or not, I've experienced it, too. Where are you from?"

"West Chester," I said.

"See, at least you're from the same state. I'm from New Jersey. I'm the only New Jersey person I know of here. So I had that working against me. But I decided I wouldn't let that cliquishness bother me. I just did my job and tried to be nice to people, and eventually they warmed up to me. Or at least tolerated me," Hannah said, smiling at the end.

I smiled back. Hannah got up, brought the plate of food and placed it on my bed, and sat cross-legged on the floor only a few feet from me.

"Just focus on the job at hand. Keep focusing on being a good counselor to these kids. Focus on their needs before your own. The rest will take care of itself, I promise," she said. I felt warm inside. I really liked Hannah. I figured that a beautiful girl like her would never have any romantic interest in me, but the fact that she was showing me such attention and concern made me feel like at least I had made my first good friend of the summer.

We sat there for a few minutes, not saying anything. I ate some of the food she had brought me, every once in a while stealing a glance at her. Hannah's light-brown hair --with blonde highlights-- fell a little past her shoulders. This was the first time I had seen her without the ponytail. Her blue eyes sparkled. As she smiled watching me eat my lunch, I admired her perfect white teeth. She was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen, I felt at that moment. To this day, I struggle to think of anyone prettier than Hannah among the many women with whom I've crossed paths.

"Have you been here all day?" she said, her face changing as if an unpleasant thought suddenly formed.

"Well, I started sweeping out my cabin. Then I took a walk. I neglected to finish cleaning when I got back."

"Hmm," she said, "You might want to be careful. When they feel that a counselor hasn't been pulling their weight in the cleaning effort, they put that counselor on bathroom cleaning duty for the rest of the summer."

"Uh oh, really?"

"Yeah. It happened to Jessica last year. Boy, she was mad," Hannah said, and I think there might have been a twinkle of delight in her eye when she thought of Jessica being forced to clean toilets all summer.

"Ha, good," I said. Hannah looked a little confused at my reaction. I felt that I needed to explain myself.

"I think you were right about her, that she isn't a very nice person," I said. I hoped she wouldn't ask me to go into any detail.

"I never really figured her out," Hannah said. "She seems to seek attention, but not really the good kind. She was caught lying a few times last summer, about silly things. I think people take anything she says with a grain of salt."

"I hope so," I said, realizing too late that I might have said too much. Hannah reacted with a confused expression again.

"Is this about her? The reason you've been sort of staying hidden here?"

"I... I can't really talk about it. I'm sorry, Hannah," I said. She just smiled again, and reached out a hand to touch my knee.

"It's fine, Tim. Whatever it was, don't worry about it. Tomorrow another batch of campers will arrive and you'll be too busy to care." With that, Hannah stood up, turned to face the door, paused, and then turned back to face me.

"And you've got me to watch your back, okay? I'm your friend. Don't forget that." Hannah grabbed my arm gently, looked into my eyes, and then walked away.

"I'll see you at dinner, okay? Come and sit with me, if you want. You don't have to, of course," she said as she walked towards the door.

"I'd like to, if that's okay."

Hannah pushed open the screen door, turned around to face me again, and said, "It's more than okay."

She smiled and then left.

Hannah was right. I focused on the needs of the next batch of kids who were assigned to my cabin, and within a day or two I had forgotten my shame and anger about Jessica. I didn't see much of Hannah that week because our jobs as counselors kept us busy, but we crossed paths a few times that week and she always had a smile and a greeting for me. She was still the only friend I had at camp, but she made me feel so happy that I felt I didn't need any more. That week was the first good week I had as a counselor at Faith Falls, and I was actually sad to see the kids leave that Friday evening.

After the campers had departed for their homes, I walked from the meeting hall to my cabin, which was about a half-mile trek through the woods. It was the furthest cabin from the meeting hall, and I had to walk past all the other boys' cabins in order to get to it. A group of male counselors were standing around outside one of the cabins, and though I hoped they would ignore me as I strolled by, they didn't.

"Hey, Marsh! Off to the serial killer convention?" one of the guys, Adam, said as I tried to sneak past. The other guys laughed. I think one of them high-fived him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said. Normally I would have just kept walking, but I was in a bit of a manic mood and I felt confrontational.

"Well, you never talk to anyone, and you obviously can't keep a girl. What else are we supposed to think about you?" Adam said as he leaned against the cabin. "If one of the campers goes missing this summer, we're gonna start the search by digging up the ground underneath your cabin."

I couldn't think of a comeback for this, so I just stood my ground, gritting my teeth slightly.

"What, did we discover your horrible secret?" another counselor, Jeremy, said. "We all better sleep with one eye open tonight!" More laughter.

"What's this about not keeping a girl?" I said. "Are you talking about Jessica?"

"Of course," Adam said. "Who else?"

"Jessica is..." I was going to say "a nutcase," but I restrained myself. "We didn't get along. That's why I don't hang out with her anymore."

"Jessica's a freak. She doesn't have any standards," Jeremy said. "And yet she still couldn't stand to be around you. Must make you feel like shit, huh?"

"No," I said, but I didn't know how to follow it up. I hated Jessica, but I didn't like to talk bad about people behind their backs.

"Well, you should, Marsh," a counselor named Chris said. "I don't even know what you're doing at this place. You're creepy. Nobody likes you. Why don't you go home?"

"You don't even know me," I said. "You judged me before you even knew me, as soon as I got here. I don't know what you have against me. I haven't done anything to any of you."

"Oh yes, yes you did," Adam said. "You know who was going to be assigned to your cabin? Frank Edwards. He's our friend. He's one of us. But you had to go and send in your application early, like a fucking do-gooder pussy, and there was no room for Frank. So instead of having a guy around that we all want to hang out with, we get the creepy little serial killer Tim Marsh."

"Yeah, Frank's the best," Chris said. "The girls liked him, the kids liked him, the guy could canoe and play football and make everybody laugh. You're pathetic. You'll never be Frank. Why don't you just go home?"

"I'm sorry about Frank, all right? I didn't know. I was just trying to learn some leadership skills and help some kids," I said, which just brought out laughter from the group. I was furious, so I turned away and marched back to my cabin. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. After having such a good week, I was back where I had started.

I didn't speak to anyone else that night. I passed a few of the guys on my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth, but I didn't say anything to them and they didn't say anything to me. I figured that this was how it was going to be for the rest of the summer.

The next morning I got up early and cleaned my cabin. I was still upset, but I certainly didn't want to be stuck cleaning the toilets for the rest of the summer. Also, my parents were planning to visit that day, though I wasn't sure I wanted them to. Would they see how badly the other counselors were treating me? Would they see it in my face as soon as they saw me? Would they feel embarrassed or sad for me? I didn't even know what to tell them when they asked me the inevitable question: "Are you having a good time so far?" I didn't like lying to my parents. I tried to be as open as possible with them, but I wasn't sure I wanted them to know how unhappy I was.