But Devin’s voice is soft and bright and his eyes are about as nonjudgmental as blue eyes can ever really be. He’s probably just curious, and it’s only my insecurity that makes me feel like he’s casting judgment down on me.

“Yeah, it was this summer,” I say. The sound of our colored pencils fills the ensuing silence between us.

Once the kids get bored, we play heads up, seven up, and four corners, then sit them all down to watch another movie. I don’t know how many DVDs Devin’s got stockpiled, but we’re burning through them pretty fast.

Then lunch comes around, and all the kids rush to get their little sandwiches and Rice Krispies out of their little lunch boxes, and Devin taps me on the shoulder and says, “Can you watch them for a bit? I’m going to the bathroom.”

I nod because what else am I supposed to say? No, jackass, go piss on the floor? But really, I don’t want him to go. There are two scheduled bathroom breaks a day for the kids, so I never actually expected to be left alone with all of them. It’s like overseeing a rabid dog and deciding to take it off its leash. He’s all I’ve got keeping these kids in line.

I try to focus on getting through the moment. It’s just lunch, which I soon learn is a lot harder than it sounds. Over the course of twenty minutes, one kid sticks his sandwich in his pants, one smears applesauce on the mirror, and one just starts crying for no discernible reason. The other seven manage to stay alive, though I guess I’m a little too caught up to notice if they’re actually eating their lunch or just painting their faces with it.

I’m trying to pull applesauce kid away from the mirror and stop him from touching anything else when one of the coordinators comes in to take them to their afternoon activities. She rolls her eyes at me, which, okay, I know I’m bad with kids. And then she rounds them all up and they rush out happily like I’m the one misbehaving.

My hands are sticky, and Devin’s still not back yet, which, come on, who takes a half hour in the fucking bathroom? So I head over to wash my hands and see what kind of casual midday vacation Devin’s decided to take for himself.

When I reach the men’s bathroom, it looks pretty empty. I make my way to the sink and turn the water on, scrubbing the appley remains from my skin. The bathroom’s actually really clean for a summer camp, and I’m slightly amazed. It’s not a bad place to run if I need to escape the kid swarm.