Page 20 of The Compass Series

KENNEDY - ELEVEN YEARS OLD

YEAR ONE OF SUMMER CAMP

J ax Kilter was so handsome.

It was a weird kind of handsome that a lot of people didn’t find handsome, but I did because I thought all things that were different were handsome and beautiful.

I liked his dark brown eyes that looked like my favorite chocolate bar, the big ears he hadn’t grown into yet.

I liked how his nose bent a little to the left as though it was made to do that.

I liked his big glasses. He looked imperfect in so many ways, and I liked that about him.

Mama said the best people are the imperfect ones because the best adventures in life don’t come from perfect things.

I liked Jax’s facial hair, too, even though he didn’t have any facial hair yet. I knew one day if he did grow facial hair, I’d like it on him. I’d have bet he was going to be a handsome man because he was already a handsome boy.

I liked Jax Kilter so much for so many reasons, but one of the biggest reasons was because he didn’t fit in with anyone else at camp, and I didn’t fit in with anyone at camp because I talked a lot and was kind of different and ohmygosh maybe we could be friends!

I didn’t wake him up yet, because I knew once I woke him up, he might run and never want to talk to me again. I’d had a lot of friends who stopped talking to me after our first hangout session because they thought I was a weirdo.

Mama and Daddy told me being weird was a good thing, though. If a person was weird, that meant they had flavor, and I didn’t want my life to be bland. I had so many big, colorful dreams and I didn’t ever want to lose my way on achieving them because I gave up my weirdness.

The best quality about me—other than my ability to burp the ABCs—was that I was so comfortably weird.

I swallowed hard as I watched the sun start to rise outside and then I nudged Jax in the arm. “Hey,” I whispered. “It’s time to get up.”

Jax stirred and grumbled and stirred some more. “Five more minutes, Ma.”

I smiled, because he was funny when he was dreaming. I nudged him again. “I’m not your mother, Jax Kilter. Get your butt up before you’re caught in bed with Kennedy Lost.”

That got him to open his eyes—real wide. Those wide, delicious chocolate eyes.

He looked at me then around at my sleeping bunkmates and shot up from lying down. “I gotta get out of here before anyone notices.”

“Yeah, that’s why I woke you, duh.”

He stood and brushed his hand under his crooked nose as he picked up his wet clothes from the night before.

I stood, too, and smiled big at him. Mama always said smiling makes other people feel like smiling, too. “ Smiles are contagious, Kennedy. Spread yours like a wildfire ,” she’d always said. So, there I was, in front of Jax, cheesing harder than I’d ever cheesed before.

He arched an eyebrow and brushed his hand through his messy hair. “What are you doing?”

“Smiling.”

“Why?”

“So you’ll smile, too.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

I tossed on my pink hoodie and slid my feet into my sneakers. “If you want, you can come talk to the birds with me.”

“Birds don’t talk.”

“Yes, they do. You’re just not listening closely enough.”

“You’re so weird, Kennedy.”

I smiled bigger. “Thanks, Jax.” I scrunched up my nose. “Hey, is your name just Jax or is it longer?”

“It’s Jaxson, but only my mom calls me that.”

“Jaxson,” I sang. “Oh, I like that more. I like calling people by their longer name. Like Matthew, or Nicholas, or Samantha. My dad’s name is Tim, but Mama calls him Timothy. She said longer names are sosipcated.”

“You mean sophisticated,” he corrected.

I narrowed my eyes. “Say it again, but slow.”

“So—phis—ti—ca—ted,” he dragged out.

“So—phis—ti—ca—ted,” I echoed, smiling big at him.

“Thanks. Sometimes I talk so fast I get tongue-tied and my words come out wrong, and other times I just don’t know the right words, and it’s helpful when someone is around to give me the words I meant, so thank you.

” I took a deep breath. “Hey, can I call you Jaxson?”

“No!” he barked, a wrinkle forming on his forehead. “I told you—only my mom calls me that.”

“Wow.” I shook my head. “Your mom is so lucky. So, do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Go talk to the birds?”

“Does your mind always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Think a million thoughts at once.”

“Oh.” I scrunched my nose and wiggled my lips. “Yeah, I think so. Well, okay, I’d love to stick around and talk, but if I don’t get out there, I’ll miss the birds, and I don’t know if they’d know what to do without my morning conversation. Bye, Jax! See ya around, buckaroo!”

I tossed on my backpack, which was packed with goodies for any adventures I might wander into throughout the day.

I had Nutri-Grain bars, bubbles, and a bottle of water.

Whenever my parents, my sister, and I went on adventures back home, Mama would always pack the Nutri-Grain bars, and Daddy would have big jugs of water for us to sip from.

I left Jax in my cabin as I headed out to go sing to the birds.

I loved being at camp because we were right in the middle of the woods.

The girls’ cabins sat in a nice clearing in the forest, with lilac bushes planted right outside the door.

When the wind blew, you’d be hit with the scent of flowers, which I loved the most. Lilacs were Mama’s favorite flower, and smelling them each morning when I walked outside made me a little less homesick.

The air still smelled like rain, and I made sure to puddle-jump each time I saw a pool of water as I whistled and wandered through the woods.

Each day, I shared a bread roll I’d taken from the previous night’s dinner to feed to the birds, and boy, did they love it. They’d scoop and dive for the treat while I sat on a log and listened to their beautiful songs.

As I sat down upon my log and went digging through my backpack, I began my conversation with the birds then was quickly interrupted by the sound of a boy clearing his throat.

I turned around to see Jax standing there in his pajamas with his clothes from yesterday folded perfectly in his arms.

I smiled, and this time, my smile was enough to get him to smile, too. I went digging in my backpack again and pulled out a strawberry Nutri-Grain bar. It was my last strawberry one, which was my favorite, but I held it out toward Jax. “Want one?”

He hesitated for a second and looked around the campground as if he was worried about someone catching him hanging out with a weirdo like me. Then he took a breath and walked toward me. He took the bar from my hand and looked up at the trees, gazing at the birds.

“What kind are out here?” he asked as he unwrapped his bar and took a very small bite from it.

“Oh, you know. There’s the red-eyed lonnie, and the grayed jasper, and the eriken,” I said matter-of-factly.

Jax looked at me with a raised brow and confusion in his eyes. “Did you just make all of that up?”

“Yup.”

“Of course you did.”

We began eating our bars and talking to the birds. Well, I talked while Jax kind of just mumbled to himself. As the sun began to come all the way up, Jaxson took a swig from a water bottle I’d given him. “Is your full name Kennedy?”

“Yup. It means helmeted chief. Dad said it means I’ll be a leader and protected from bad things. My older sister’s name is Yoana, which means God is gracious, which fits her because she’s pretty awesome.” I tilted my head. “What does your name mean?”

“Oh, it’s stupid.”

“I doubt that—no name meaning is stupid.”

“Mine is, trust me.”

“Just tell me already.”

He grumbled and sighed. “Jaxson means son of Jack.”

“Oh.” I nodded in understanding. “Is your dad’s name Jack?”

“No. It’s Cole.”

“Hm. Yeah, you’re right—that is a stupid name meaning. Let’s make up our own for you. How about…Jaxson means hero. That way you’re strong and can always save people no matter what.”

“You can’t just make up name meanings, Kennedy.”

“Sure I can. That’s what all the old people did when they decided yours meant son of Jack.”

He folded his arms for a minute in deep thought and then shrugged. “Okay, Jaxson means hero even though I don’t think I’ll ever be able to save anyone.”

“Give it time. You have to grow into your name, as my dad always says. Chin up—you’ll get there.”

“Yeah, okay.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “By the way, thanks for helping me last night.”

“No problem.” I stuffed the last piece of my bar into my mouth and wiped my hands on my pajamas pants. “So, tell me something exciting about yourself.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You know, something cool about you.”

“Oh. There’s nothing cool about me.”

I started laughing and shoved him in the shoulder. “You’re so funny, Jax.”

“I wasn’t kidding. I’m not a cool person.”

“Everyone’s a cool person. Even the uncool people.”

“Kennedy, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“You don’t always have to make sense. Tell me something. What’s something you like?”

He cleared his throat and brushed his thumb down the bridge of his nose before pushing his glasses up.

“I guess I like big words that mean different things. My mom and I are always searching for big words to show each other and to learn the meanings of. We even made a Pinterest board to tag our favorite big words.” He wiggled his nose. “It’s kind of stupid.”

I gasped and clapped my hands together. “It’s not stupid! No way! Big words are so cool! I don’t know many big words other than so—phis—ti—ca—ted, so maybe you can teach me.”

For a moment, his eyes lit up. “Are you serious?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

“Well…what kind of words do you want to know?”

“I don’t know because I don’t know them, silly. How can I know what I want to know if I don’t know them?”

He laughed nervously, and at that moment he became even more handsome. “Oh. Right.”

“Just tell me your favorite.”

“Oh gosh, there are so many.” He was beginning to talk more and more, and I liked that about him. I liked how he started to open up to me. “Like, clinomania!”

I gasped and clapped my hands together. “Oh! I love it!”

“You don’t know what that means, do you?”

“Not at all!”

He laughed again. “It means a strong desire to stay in bed. My mom has clinomania after every weekend when she has too much wine.”

“It sounds like your mom and my mama would be best friends. What’s another one?”

“There’s solivagant.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Solivagant. Very nice. That’s also one of my favorite words now.”

He smirked. “It means someone who wanders alone. Kind of like me. I keep to myself a lot.”

“I do, too. Most people think I’m too weird to be friends with, so I’m a solivagant, I guess.” I frowned a little, thinking about how sometimes when I wandered, I got lonely without my family around.

“Not right now, though,” he said, nudging me. “Because you’re not wandering alone. You’re with me.”

My lips turned up. “Yeah. I’m with you.”

He kept telling me different words, and I kept listening. His mumbles were getting a bit louder, to the point that they weren’t mumbles at all, and then when he’d laugh loud enough, I swore every bird would dance to his sound.

“Hey, Jax?”

“Yes, Kennedy?”

“You want to be my best friend?”

He scrunched up his nose. “You don’t just ask people to be your best friend. That’s not how people get best friends.”

“Oh.” I frowned and scratched at my tangled hair. “Well, how do people get best friends?”

“I don’t know. It just kind of happens.”

“Oh.” I pulled out my roll and began feeding the birds as they dived down like addicts. “Hey, Jax?”

“Yes, Kennedy?”

“Do you just kind of want to happen to be best friends?”

He sighed. “Okay, Kennedy.”

My cheeks heated up and I looked down at the birds chewing up the rolls. “I always wanted a best friend.”

I couldn’t hear him too clearly, because Jax Kilter liked to mumble, but I thought he said the words, “Me too.”

“Now we can be solivagants together,” I said.

“Uh, that cancels out the whole point of solivagant.”

“Shh, Jax. Just let this happen.”

He smiled, and muttered, “Okay.”