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Chapter twenty-six

Clayton

The entire week went by so fast; Clayton was sad to leave, even though he looked forward to having Sawyer at his side when they returned home. He wondered if Sawyer would stay once he received his motorcycle. Those thoughts had crossed his mind ever since he had heard about the generous gift. He wondered why he hadn’t thought about doing that for Sawyer. He hated to admit he didn’t know how to handle a proper relationship he never wanted to let go of, and he envied his friend who had thought before he had of giving Sawyer such a much needed gift. The motorcycle would give him freedom. Time would tell if Sawyer would leave him to seek greener pastures.

Clayton glanced at his watch as the campers shuffled into the clearing by the lake, their faces tinged with a bittersweet glow. It was the last day of camp, and though part of him was relieved to rest after weeks of orchestrating activities and solving minor crises, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of gloom. The new men had grown on him, each in their own way.

Lunch had been chaotic, as usual. Sawyer had spilled his Coke onto the table, prompting a chain reaction of exaggerated groans from Jeff and Malik. Clayton had just laughed and handed Sawyer a napkin, shaking his head at the antics. Now, as the group settled into a makeshift circle, he clasped his clipboard tightly. The Gratitude Circle was his favorite camp tradition—a way to wrap up the summer with a moment of reflection.

Clayton cleared his throat. “Alright, guys,” he said, his casual tone masking the lump in his throat, “this is our Gratitude Circle. We’re going to share something we’re thankful for this week. It can be anything—big or small.” He gave the campers a look of encouragement, his gaze lingering a little longer on the ones he knew weren’t the most talkative. “Let’s keep it chill, but honest.”

Mark and Rowan were up first. Rowan nudged Mark, clearly daring him to start. Mark rubbed the back of his neck, his voice quiet. “I’m grateful for the late-night talks, the weird dares, and the way everyone just got each other. I’m…grateful for the new friends I made this week. But what really got to me is my brother Clayton found someone he truly cares for. I didn’t think he’d ever find someone as special as Sawyer.” He paused and hugged Clayton and Sawyer, then returned to his spot in the circle. “I love Rowan’s laugh and how it lights up an entire room—or a whole forest. And finally, this time here, Rowan and I found a compromise to our geographical situation.” His lips twitched into a shy grin. Mark pulled Rowan into his arms.

Rowan chimed in after him. “And I’m grateful for Mark being my mentor and partner. And…I can’t wait to teach my new friend Sawyer how to dance on the wild side.” Rowan glanced across the circle at Sawyer, who gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up.

Clayton was more than touched by Mark’s words. A small, tight smile stretched across his lips, holding back a torrent of tears that threatened to spill. Rowan had come out of his shell more this week than Clayton had expected. That’s what camp did—it pulled young men out of their comfort zones, turned strangers into friends. Being a professional dancer didn’t change his lack of ease with speaking in a large group. Dancing and sharing were two entirely different things.

Jeff took his turn with Malik beside him. Jeff fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before speaking. “I’m grateful for the campfire nights. Especially the marshmallow disaster that we don’t talk about.” His expression was a mix of embarrassment and amusement. The memory of Jeff accidentally setting his marshmallow aflame was something Clayton had replayed in his head more times than he cared to admit.

Malik laughed and added, “I’m thankful for the quiet moments, the loud laughs, and the space to just breathe and be myself. I made new friends, too, and I appreciate all of them. Sawyer is going to be my new bestie.” Malik’s voice carried the ease of someone who never took himself too seriously. He shot Sawyer a thumbs-up.

Finally, Brody and James were going to speak. James spoke first, staring at the ground as he did. “I’m grateful for new friends and winning the Scavenger Hunt with Brody, my very best friend and lover. It was nice to just…taking turns cooking and baking for everyone here, you know? And I almost forgot I’m thankful for Brody dragging me here, even though I complained the whole ride.” James’s words were simple but heartfelt. Brody bumped his elbow lightly, offering an unspoken “good job.”

Brody followed up, his voice louder and tinged with humor. “First, I’m grateful for the hugs and the gayest campfire jams in history. I’m also stoked about James, and I won the scavenger hunt. Soon we’ll be going to San Francisco. Neither of us have flown before. The food was the best we’ve had at camp so far. Seriously, you guys do not know how bad my cooking is. Camp pizza? Elite.”

The circle erupted in laughter, and even Clayton cracked a grin. Brody was the joker of the group, but there was something endearing about his honesty. Clayton glanced down at his clipboard, as if it might steady the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside him.

Everyone kind of nodded at once when Fred said, “I’m just grateful to know I’m not alone anymore.”

Everyone applauded his words.

Another camper said, “I’m grateful to feel like I have people in my corner, no matter what.”

Sawyer spoke up next, his voice enthusiastic but slightly shaky. “I’m grateful I finally feel seen—for real—and I didn’t have to hide who I am anymore. I’m also grateful for the friendships I made. It was epic meeting other gay men. Like, seriously, I thought I’d never find a gay friend, but then I did and not just one! I’m also thankful for the ridiculous Truth or Dare game that somehow made me feel more connected than I’ve ever felt. I owe all this to Clayton, who rescued me from a bad situation and took me under his wing in more ways than one. Thank you, Clayton.” His smile stretched wide, and Clayton nodded, thinking about Sawyer’s growth in his ability to admit his truth in public. It was contagious, and made Clayton feel deeply emotional and grateful that he’d found Sawyer. He leaned over and kissed Sawyer.

Now it was his turn. Clayton shifted in his seat, the eyes of the campers fixed on him. He exhaled. “Alright, well, I’m grateful for all of you,” he began, the words coming out unpolished. “You guys gave this camp life. You made it fun, chaotic, challenging, and worthwhile. Watching you grow—seeing your teamwork, your creativity was the best part of my summer. I’m glad everyone came as they were—and stayed. But I’m so happy I met Sawyer, and he accepted my offer to come with me. I love you, Sawyer.” He watched Sawyer turn completely red.

As he spoke, his mind drifted to moments from the past weeks—the late-night conversations, the bursts of laughter, the quiet triumphs. These men had shown him more than he expected, and for that, he was deeply grateful.

The campers clapped for him, and Clayton felt his throat tighten again. He knew he’d miss these moments, even the messy ones.

As the Gratitude Circle wrapped up, Clayton took a moment to soak it all in—the shimmering lake, the hum of cicadas, the voices of the campers echoing in the afternoon air. Summer might be ending, but the memories they’d made? Those would stick around far longer.

The sun filtered gently through the leafy canopy above, dappling the ground with golden spots of light as the Gratitude Circle dissipated. Clayton stood, his clipboard set aside, reaching for a canvas bag he had brought along. The bag was a splash of bright colors, its contents a small surprise he had planned for the campers. His hand disappeared into it for a moment before he pulled out a bundle of neatly folded Pride flags, each one a vibrant explosion of hues that seemed to catch the light like a kaleidoscope.

The men’s chatter dulled as their attention shifted to the flags. Clayton held them up with a smile that crinkled his eyes, a quiet pride swelling in his chest. “Alright, team,” he began, passing the flags around. “These are for you. Let’s make this last day at camp one to remember.”

Each camper unfolded their flag with a sense of reverence. Sawyer immediately draped his over his shoulders like a cape, striking an exaggerated superhero pose that had everyone laughing. James and Brody unfurled theirs together, comparing designs, while Rowan spread himself out in front of Mark, admiring the vibrant stripes. Malik quietly smoothed the fabric over his knees, his fingers tracing the edges. Jeff waved his flag dramatically through the air as though he were leading a parade.

Nearby, Mark was tinkering with his camera, a sleek DSLR mounted on a sturdy stick that would allow him to take photos from a distance. The camera’s lens gleamed in the afternoon sunlight as he adjusted the settings, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Alright, everyone!” Mark called out, lifting his head and flashing a grin. “Group photo time. Grab your flags and get ready. You don’t want to miss this!”

The men scrambled into position, flags in hand, some holding them up high while others wrapped them around their shoulders or draped them over the ground like tapestries. Clayton helped Brody and James adjust theirs to make sure every camper’s flag was visible. He stood back for a moment, hands on his hips, surveying the scene—a rainbow of colors set against the backdrop of the shimmering lake and the camp’s towering pines. His heart swelled again with pride. This was exactly what he wanted: a moment of unity, of joy, of shared celebration.

Mark crouched near the camera, setting the timer and programming it to take a series of shots. “Hold still for a few but then feel free to go wild—let’s get some action shots too,” he instructed, jogging back into the group with his own flag. Everyone posed, their grins wide and their flags fluttering in the light breeze. The camera clicked steadily, capturing one photo after another.

“The pictures will be on the camp’s website to download,” Mark announced once the session ended, his voice brimming with excitement. The group cheered, already buzzing about which photo would be their favorite.

As the campers dispersed, Clayton lingered by the lake, watching them laugh and joke with one another. He clutched his own flag for a moment, the fabric warm from the sunlight. The day wasn’t just the end of camp—it was the culmination of something meaningful, something that would linger far beyond this lakeside clearing. The Pride flags, laughter, the photos—they were all symbols of belonging and acceptance, things he hoped the campers would carry with them, no matter where life took them next.

They had one more activity after dinner before Lodi Pride Camp 2025 ended.