‘Go on. It won’t poison you.’ Marc laughed.
I wasn’t so sure. Eggnog – even alcohol-free eggnog – seemed to imply it had eggs in it, and I didn’t like eggs.
I took a tiny sip. It was thick and cloying, and its texture was just a bit too close to Aunty Rebecca’s horrible scrambled eggs.
‘Urgh!’
It made my head shake from side to side in a spasm of revulsion.
Marc laughed again. ‘Not for you, then?’
‘No,’ I said, regaining my composure. I was suddenly mindful of all the other teenagers around me. ‘Maybe next time.’
I was reasonably confident there would be a next time. I had just hit my teens, 13. The end of the world was still nigh; supposedly it would begin any time that year. All that mattered to me was that it didn’t start this week because Marc and I were at a Family-run teen camp in the Belgian Ardennes. It was the first time I had been away from home and I was super-excited. Tonight was dance night.
A Latin disco number, produced by The Family’s own music and meaning team, played at full volume. We weren’t allowed to listen to any music that hadn’t been either made by our own musicians or approved by the leadership.
The prettiest older girls were holding court in the middle of the dance floor. Shaking their hips suggestively and flicking their long hair, they would twirl towards the boys. The atmosphere was so sexually charged it felt electric. This wasn’t the type of gross flirting we saw the adults do before they had sex. This was different. This was thrilling to be a part of, even though I felt on the fringes, not really knowing what to do.
The camp days were spent listening to lectures about how to fight the devil’s temptations, or hearing testimonies from adults who had led depraved, drug-fuelled lives before being saved by The Family. We were at the age at which The Family thought we might start rebelling, so the camp was organised to remind us of our role as ‘witnesses’ to the end of time and to help us be more spiritually mature. But it was also a lot of fun. Growing up I had never played sports before; our PE lessons consisted of swimming, playing games like hide-and-seek or tag, or doing aerobics to cult-made exercise videos. At camp they had real games like football and volleyball every afternoon. I didn’t play because I didn’t want to look even less cool than I already did.
Instead I joined the organised walks on trails through the pine forests. I was going through my poetic, melancholic phase, convinced I was the deepest and most misunderstood girl in the world.
Some of the older boys were camping on the lawn outside the lodge we had rented for the week. This provided plenty of opportunity for couples to get together. It was obvious that the camp leaders knew what was going on, but they didn’t mind. They actively encouraged it.
I was very nervous and shy. I had just got my first period, which only added to my adolescent insecurity. Thank goodness Marc didn’t mind me hanging around with him. Matt was at the camp too, but he was busy doing his own thing and hitting on girls. He didn’t want gawky little sister tagging along and cramping his style.
A euro-techno pop song came on, all synthesised beats and cheesy words of love. Caleb was on the other side of the dimly lit room effortlessly talking to a group of girls. I felt a pang of jealousy – they were close enough to stare into his beautiful brown eyes. I had to make do with admiring his athletic physique. He was gorgeous, funny, popular – and out of my league.
He looked over in my direction and waved. I had half started to wave back when I realised his wave was meant for Marc. What an idiot. I could feel myself blushing deeply as he made his way over to us.
‘Hey, man,’ he said to Marc.
His eyes really were beautiful. And his shoulders were even broader up close. It was like staring at a teenage Richard Gere.
‘Hey, Caleb. How’s it going?’
‘Hi …’ I said weakly, running out of words.
‘Cool, talking to the chicks, dancing. You? Knocking back a few ’nogs, I see.’ He nodded at my brother’s glass.
Marc laughed. I smiled, not really following their conversation, but staring in adoration instead.
‘That German kid drank his body weight in eggnog – then thought it would be a good idea to show some of the girls how many press-ups he could do. Last time I saw him he was throwing up in the garden.’
‘Smooth. Yeah, the girls all love that stuff!’
More laughter.
‘Actually,’ Caleb went on, ‘I came over to ask a question. I wondered if I might have a dance with your little sister.’
I couldn’t believe my ears. Marc began to answer, but I didn’t give him the chance.
‘Yes. I mean, yes, you may.’ I grinned at Marc. I sensed Marc had set this up. He knew I had a crush on Caleb, but I didn’t care. I held out my arm, inviting Caleb to escort me the dance floor. I felt like a princess with my handsome prince at my side.
Just as we got to the middle of the room the song changed to a slow power ballad. Everyone started to slow dance. I was blushing again – I could feel the heat on my cheeks. My mind was blank and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so when he held out his arms I just put my head on his chest and drank in his scent.
After the dance he walked me to my room like a proper gentleman. There was no moment of embarrassment or teenage fumbling. Instead it was as if we had an unspoken bond – something that didn’t need words to be communicated. As he walked back down the hall I just waved goodnight, which he returned with a flash of his gorgeous smile.
This was more special to me than anything. Sex was banned for the under-16s, but lots of campers were managing to do it. If we’d really wanted to we could have snuck away and had some sneaky sex in his tent. But for Caleb to walk me to my room and not so much as kiss me made the evening feel like there was something magical going on.
It was a feeling that stayed with me when I woke the next day. A thick mist had carpeted the pine forest valleys overnight, so that only the mountain top poked through. It was a wonderful sight and I felt like God had planned it as my own special surprise – a sort of beautiful morning to a beautiful night.
‘So? Spill.’
It was my new friend Jeanette – she was blonde, beautiful and an insatiable gossip. We’d made friends the first day. I was over the moon that she liked me because she was so pretty and the envy of every other girl at camp. She came from an aristocratic French family and exuded a sort of natural grace with the delicate features of a porcelain doll, a little bit like I imagined my mother had looked at the same age. But she was also very timid and shy, which is probably why she felt at ease with me.
‘Oh, gossip. What’s going on?’
Another new friend, Sienna, trotted towards us, pulling back her dark hair. She and I had become very close over the last few days, but in this instance I wasn’t so pleased to see her – she was Caleb’s sister.
‘Somebody was dancing with your brother Caleb last night,’ blurted Jeanette.
‘Oh, that’s old news. I thought you had something juicy.’
I was so relieved Sienna wasn’t being strange about it.
‘In fact,’ Sienna went on, ‘I spoke to the man himself just before, and he seemed rather pleased with himself.’
‘Ooohhhhhhh …’
I knew where Jeanette was going and cut her off.
‘You can calm down. Nothing happened.’
This just fuelled Jeanette’s curiosity.
‘Really? I thought you liked him.’