Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Blueberry Girls

To break the ice,
we buy her tamales
and I play ping-pong with him
before I leave him at the JCC
just like they left me at camp
when I was seven years old.
I always hated camp.
I hated the counselors,
and the kids,
and the food,
and the rules.
I hated the secret sign language the girls used
during “quiet time’
when they were supposed to be sleeping in their bunk beds.
I hated getting dressed when it was freezing outside.
And I hated how alone I felt
picking blueberries and wild mint
in the woods.
I rarely befriended anyone
except for the occasional
weird outcast boy-girl
who was equally miserable.
Together we would talk about the other kids
and all the things we hated about them.
But the truth is,
if either one of us had ever been accepted by the “in” kids
we would have dumped each other
faster than the fake mashed potatoes
we threw into the trash bin
night after endless night.