Chances and Changes: My Journey with Molly

We hurry back to the tent to change into our bathing suits. I fold my shorts carefully so my pin doesn’t fall out of the pocket, and I pull on the bathing suit I got from Lost and Found. The suit is so weird. It has two skinny straps that tie in a bow behind my back. It puckers out over my hips and is gathered in pleats in the back. To top it off, the crowning touch of the comical swimsuit is a rubber bathing cap with a tight chin strap. I look like a clown. Bea would laugh out loud if she saw me. I feel ridiculous, but when we get down to the waterfront, I see everyone else in the lake is suited and capped just like me.

Miss Archer tells everyone to stay inside the ropes. Old campers should buddy up with new campers and explain how the Buddy Board works. Molly shows me that every girl has a tag with her name on it on a hook on the Buddy Board. When you go in the lake, you flip your tag from red to green. When you get out, you flip your tag back to red again. That way the counselors always know who’s in the lake and who’s not. Every girl has a buddy, and buddies hang their tags from the same hook because they always swim together. I should be Molly’s buddy. She tells me to flip my tag to green and put it on the hook with mine. Linda can be Bobbie’s buddy.

Linda leads Bobbie over to the Buddy Board and shows her how to flip their tags to green and hang them together on a hook. It’s really kind how Molly and Linda and all the old campers are to the new campers like Bobbie and me. They’re so nice about showing us what to do.

Molly says that buddies always have to stick together. Every once in a while, Miss Archer will blow her whistle and buddies have to hold hands and raise them up for the counselors to see so they’re sure everyone is safe. And with that, Linda and Bobbie run and make a huge splash as they jump off the dock. They remind me of Bea and me when they come up laughing and shrieking. I take Molly’s hand so we can jump off the dock together, too, but Molly wiggles her hand out of mine, sits on the dock, and gingerly lowers herself into the shoulder-high water. I think about how odd that is as I jump in.

I swim out to the diving platform and climb the ladder. Facing Molly, I stand on my toes, raise my arms up, bounce, and dive. I swim underwater, bob up for air, and then go back under until I’m nearly back at the dock. Molly is still standing in the same spot, hugging herself. Her face looks vulnerable without her glasses, and her expression is self-conscious and unhappy. What’s wrong? I’d like to be able to help Molly, but I don’t want to be nosy. Should I just dive in and ask what’s wrong, or should I be quiet and wait for her to say something?