Roland’s POV 

I frowned as I sat in a lawn chair in front of the office and swatted at a bug that had landed on my arm. It was hot, the sun was far too bright, people screamed from every direction simply because they could, and when the door to the office slammed for the fourth time this hour I was reminded why I hated the outdoors so much. 

I had never liked being outside. Bugs were gross, I always got sunburnt, and people were usually outside too which didn’t help. Dad had understood. Dad said being outside was the closest thing to hell that we could get to on earth and that’s why he built a shop, so he could do outside things indoors. 

Kit had made the outside better, with his constant talking and loud laugh, and impossibly bright smile; now that he was gone it was the last place I wanted to be but I had made a deal with Andrew and I wasn’t going to give up on it so soon. 

Besides, it was Call Day. That’s what Mary had called it. Anyone who had friends that had recently left camp could call them once a month just to catch up. I would be a special case, she told me a few weeks before Kit left. We would get once a week with the hope of slowly transitioning to once a month like everyone else but for now, I was happy that I was getting an acceptation.

I had been sitting here for a while now, letting the others call their friends first so Kit and I could have a longer time before Mary called it for the day. People came and went and it had been nearly two hours since I had wandered along but I was okay with that. I was also waiting for Kit. Mary said she didn’t have his number yet so we would have to wait for him to call us, which was another reason I was waiting directly outside the door. If he called and I was too far away that would cut into our time and I wasn’t going to let that happen.

At the three-hour mark, Mary came to sit beside me with a sad smile on her face.

“You don’t have to sit out here,” she said after a few minutes of us just staring at the front yard. Some kids were kicking a ball with some made-up rules that I didn’t understand. “If you want to go do something else I can come get you when he calls.”

“I’d rather wait here, thank you.”

“Maybe come inside then? It’s pretty hot out here today, I don’t want you to overheat.” I cringed at the thought. The front office was gross. They had slowly begun to fix it up with the money from my donations but there was still water damage on the ceilings and the industrial lights made me want to scoop my eyes out so I wouldn’t have to look at them, not to mention the god awful hum they made constantly.

She must have seen the look on my face and saw it wasn’t going to happen because she didn’t say anything for a while after that.

“There’s only an hour left of Call Day,” she said with a frown. I frowned too. Even if he called right now, an hour wasn’t nearly enough time to catch up on everything. “He might not have been able to get a phone in time. Or he could be working. I want you to brace yourself for the possibility that he might not be able to call today."

“He’s going to call,” I said, not bothering to look away from the kids playing; their game really didn’t make any sense. One team cheered while the others groaned and I could only assume they had lost.

“But if he doesn’t-,”

“But he’s going to. He promised.” She sighed before turning her full attention to me.

“Can you look at me please?” I did and all I saw staring back at me were concerned eyes. “The first month or so away from camp is the hardest. A lot of people don’t have time to even make appointments with their therapists, let alone call friends. We do what we can to set them up for success but adjusting to being on your own is hard and I don’t want you to be upset if he isn’t able to call today. There’s always next week.”

“I don’t want to talk to him next week, I want to talk to him now.”

“I know,” she said with a frown. “But it might not work out that way today. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just something that happens the first few weeks.” I glared at her before turning my attention back to the yard; the kids had started up a new game with different teams.

I tried not to be sad at her words. I tried reminding myself that I was used to this. People left all the time and rarely had time for me after they did. It wasn’t the first time it had happened and I doubted it would be the last time but I had hoped Kit would be different. He promised.

“I think I’ll wait here for a bit longer,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

“Do you mind if I sit here with you,” she asked, her eyes moving back to the yard but she still perched on the edge of the seat as if she were ready to leave the second I told her to.

“I don’t care.” She hummed before leaning back and getting comfortable in her seat. We watched as people came and went from the office; some were enjoying the phones, others just had basic questions, and a few came and talked to Mary. She spoke to them with wide smiles and hugged a few of them after they left. None of them spared me a second glance and I was happy for it. I just wanted them to leave and was thankful when they did. 

My hands fidgeted in my lap as the time went on. Kit had promised. He would call. He already told me he was going to buy a cheap phone on his first day out of camp so he would have a phone so he could call so he was going to call.

We only had thirty minutes left. I sighed as I stood up from the chair.

“You’re leaving,” Mary asked, a frown replacing the smile she had held on to this entire time. “There’s still time.”

“I’m going to get dinner before it gets too crowded,” I said with a frown of my own. Maybe if I distracted myself I would forget he was supposed to call today. Mary looked like she wanted to argue with me but only sighed as I inched closer to the stairs.

“Alright then, I’ll come get you if he calls. Do you mind if I check up on you here in a little bit? Just to see how you’re doing?” I shrug but don’t answer. 

My chest felt hollow as I walked to the cafeteria and tears that I refused to let fall burned my eyes. I tried to remind myself that I was expecting this; that I knew it would happen eventually. Everyone leaves eventually and no one bothers to keep in touch after. They’re probably just happy that they don’t have to pretend to like the weird kid anymore.

I brushed away a tear as I stood in line for dinner, trying to ignore the way my shoulder was being pushed from behind and unkind words were being whispered only inches away. I hated it here.