Chapter 2
My mom takes a swig of her pink Vitamin Water. This is her fourth one today (I’m guessing), and a lovely red mustache has formed above her upper lip. I swear, that woman is addicted. In our basement back home, she has seven bulk packages. I’ll bet she has power-c dragonfruit in her bloodstream.
It is then that I realize how much I’ve missed my brother and dad. They’re always going out on exotic camping trips without mom and I. This time it’s Colorado. I wonder how a sixth grader and a fifty-year old man have enough energy to climb mountains and cross deserts when my mom and I only have the ability to power-shop (Well, They don’t really climb mountains or cross deserts, but they do go on LONG hiking trips. I’ve been on one; I made them turn back after about ten minutes).
“Here we are!” my mom cheerily announces as our G.P.S. monotonously states, “You have reached your destination.”
We pull onto a dirt road. I see about twenty signs that say “welcome” in all different languages. I roll down the window to get a whiff of the sweet summer air. I begin to feel happy, but as soon as I inhale, the stench of horse droppings and hay fills my nostrils. I close my window as quickly as possible.
“Wow,” my mom breathes, running her fingers through her dark red hair, “It sure has changed a lot since I was here.”
I look to my right to see a small barn. Oh joy. Animals. Small goats romp around in a fenced-in area with an old sheep looking at them with an expressionless face. It belts out a burp-like bleat. I turn to my other side to see a large, brown building with a sign next to it. I squint my eyes. “Dining Hall”, it reads. I see girls and guys from about eight to my age walking around outside of it, laughing, talking, and hugging. I get that heavy feeling in my chest, like I do whenever I’m nervous.
“Sign-ins are in the Trading Post,” she reads off of the pamphlet we got online.
“Where’s that?” I ask. I then see a large sign, drawn with purple magic marker, stuck onto a tree with duct tape. “TRADING POST” it says in all-capital letters with an arrow pointing the way we were going anyway.
Chapter 3
We follow a similar series of signs when we finally come upon a small building with a sign nailed above the door, which says, “Franny’s Trading Post”. On the porch is a fold-up table with a white plastic tablecloth on it. In front of it is a line of about fifteen kids with their parents.
My mom parks where she spots a cluster of cars. I drag myself out and slam the door behind me. As we get into line, a girl and her mother suddenly cut in from of us. The mother scowls at my mom, and the girl puts her hands on her hips as if I had done something wrong. The mother is wearing high-fashion clothes, most likely from some high-end store where the shirts are $400. If you ask me, it’s not the best thing to wear to drop your daughter off at camp. They both have a matching tan (obviously not natural due to the orange hue), dark brown hair, and noses that turn up so high you can practically look inside when at eye level with them. Their only difference is that the girl is wearing Soffe shorts rolled up higher than my underwear goes, sequined flip-flops, and the same Hollister tee I have on, but in blue. Mine is in pink. I notice that the girl has three piercings on both ears. I officially believe in hatred at first sight, I think to myself.
They turn around on their heels in unison, so they have their back to us. My mom is extremely shy. She looks down at the ground, as if she is praying. She acts like nothing had happened the whole way through the line.
When we finally get to the front of the line, we see a girl with white-blonde hair and an overly huge smile sitting on a fold-up chair behind the table. I begin to wonder if she’s the famous Franny, but I find that her nametag says Becky.
“Hiiiiii!!!” She squeals, as if we we’re bunnies at a pet store or something, “So, your name is…”
“Elizabeth James,” I say, but I quickly add, “But you can call me Liz, you know, if you want to put it on my button or something.” (Earlier I noticed people walking around with buttons with their names on them).
“Okay,” she says handing my mom some papers to sign in exchange for my inhaler. Becky tosses it lazily into a white container, with what appears to be other medications.
Becky scribbles my name onto a circle and puts it in some sort of button-making contraption. Out pops a button. She hands it to me along with a light yellow shirt with the camp logo on it; a diamond with a person canoeing in water with a sunset in the distance. Under the logo, it says, “Camp Winnahana Utopian”. I have no idea what a Utopian is, but I see some other girls about my age wearing the similar shirts, so I pull it on over the shirt I’m already wearing. I look down at the button Becky had made for me on some strange button-making device. Apparently, Becky had forgotten about my request to write “Liz”. Instead she writes “Lizzie James, 12A”. I sigh as pin it to my yellow shirt. I decide 12A is my cabin number, because I have no clue what else it would be.
Chapter 4
My mom helps me lug my trunk up to the cabin once we reach it by car. I learn the cabin is separated into two parts. One is 12A and the other is 12B. Once we bring the heavy trunk up the stairs and onto the porch, my mom is huffing and puffing, soon reaching into her purse for her inhaler. Though we both share asthma problems, I am hardly affected at all by exercise, while my mom is quite the opposite.
I walk into the main room. It is where cabins 12A and 12B meet. I pull my trunk by myself (my mom had already done enough exercise for the day) to the right where 12A is. I’d think that it would be on the left, but a sign on the door to the right proves me wrong. I stroll inside. I see a top bunk with a cutout from red construction paper taped to the wall next to it. It says “Liz” in blue magic marker. Well, at least someone follows requests.
I push the lavender trunk with dark purple stars under the bunk underneath mine with my foot. I see a door next to my bunk. I push it open to find three sinks, a mirror, a shower, and two stalls. The bathroom, obviously. I begin to head out to the car to get more stuff when I spot something shiny on the floor of the main room. I bend down to pick it up. I place it in the palm of my hand. It seems to be an earring. I sit up to place it on the table above my head when I see a clear glass tank. I peer inside and scream.
It’s a hairy, eight-legged, thousand-eyed tarantula! “Omigod! What is that?” I squeal like a five-year-old. The only other person in the room, a girl with blonde hair, blue eyes and a freckled nose looks up at me from the book she is reading.
She raises an eyebrow at me (Wow! How does she do that?) and says, “Relax, it’s our counselor’s pet.” She gets up from the couch she was sitting on (identical to the two other ones in the room) and offers me her hand. “Hi, I’m Monica,” she says.
I tentatively take her hand and shake it. “Liz,” I say.
“So, are you in 12A or 12B?”
“A”
“Same”
“Which bed are you in?” I ask.
“The top one in the left-hand corner.”
“I’m just before that. I’m the top one next to the bathroom.” I say.
“Ah,” she says, nodding her head.
When the conversation comes to a dull end, I head outside and down the porch stairs to my car. I pull out my backpack full of my personal things, like photos, posters, stuffed animals and my bedsheets. I grab that and my sleeping bag for our overnight trip. I toss it in a pile of other ones inside the main room. I go to my bunk and begin organizing. (If I’m forced to live here for over a month, I might as well make it homey).
First, I make my bed (making your bed when it’s a top bunk is much harder than you’d think). I place my blue sheets onto the bed and top them of with my blue quilt with flowers on it. I put my blue pillow with stars (can you tell my room has a theme?) at the head of the bed and place my baby blue Pacific Park pillow my dad got me from California on top of it. I align my two stuffed animals, my Beanie Baby Newfoundland dog, Seadog, and my stuffed cow. I still have the tag on Seadog’s ear. I’ve memorized every line of his poem. It reads:
I love to feel the ocean breeze
When I sail on the open seas
A sailor’s life is right for me
There’s no place I’d rather be!
I remember my mom getting it for me when I was about seven when we moved from North Carolina to New Jersey. I don’t remember North Carolina much, but I’m glad I live in New Jersey.
Chapter 5
When I finish arranging my photos and posters I sit back and admire my work. I walk outside to see how my mom is getting along. She smiles at me as I walk over and embrace her in a hug. Over my shoulder, she reads from the pamphlet, “Parents are supposed to leave at 3:30 and it’s…” she checks her watch “3:24 now! I’d better get going, honey,” she says, stroking my hair. She whispers in my ear, “Remember, get into trouble, but not enough for me to come and get you.”
I let out a laugh. “I’ll try. I love you Mom.”
“I love you, too Liz.”
We each give each other one last hug and she heads for the car. I walk back inside. I see five other girls sitting around on the couches. I plop down next to Monica, since she’s the only one I recognize of the bunch.
“Hi guys,” a girl says. I turn around. She must be the counselor. “Um, you’re all in cabin 12A, right?”
We all nod.
She mouths the numbers to herself as she does a head-count. “Almost everyone’s here. We’re missing one,” She pauses a second, pondering to herself, “I guess we can talk to her later. For now, everyone to our side of the cabin.”
I climb up the ladder to my bunk and cross my legs. I think I actually might be changing my mind about camp. I already have one almost-friend and the counselor seems nice. I wonder about that girl is who’s missing. I hope she doesn’t ruin my happy mood. Knock on wood, I think and tap on the wall three times.
My counselor stands up straight and tugs on her shoulder-length brown ponytail. She’s obviously nervous. It’s probably her first year here, too. Since we’re the first session, I doubt she knows much. I feel sorry for her.
“Um, hi. I’m Katie, but you can call me Kat. But certainly not Katie Kat!” She adds with a shy giggle. “Okay, so I want you to go around the room and say your name, how many years you’ve been coming to camp, and one interesting fact about yourself. Let’s start with…you,” she says, pointing to a girl with curly brown hair and striking blue eyes.
Monica leans over to me and says, “You’re going to be asked that a lot these first few days. Just tell them the same thing every time.” I nod.
“I’m Jessie. This is my fourth year at camp and I can hold my hands behind my back and pull them over my head.”
“How about you show us?” Katie asks with sudden interest.
“Okay,” She says while linking her arms behind her back and pulling them over her head until they’re in her lap. We’re all impressed.
I begin to panic, unsure of how I am to remember these random facts. I pull out my journal and my favorite fuzzy pencil. We all go around in our awkward circle until we’re all familiar with eachother. I continue scribbling.
Chapter 6
Name: Features: Random fact:
Jessie (Fourth year at camp) Curly brown hair, amazingly blue eyes. Links hands behind back and pulls them over head.
Sara (Third year) Mousy brown hair, brown eyes, glasses. Read the first Harry Potter book in one day when she was eight.
Nicole (Fifth year) Dark brown hair, tanned arms and legs. Can make her eyes go in two different directions.
Monica (Sixth year) Blonde hair, blue eyes, several freckles on nose. Is able to say the alphabet backward with ease.
Stephanie (Fourth year) Light red hair, freckles dotted over face. Light western accent. Has seven horses back home in TN.
“Lizzie, your turn,” says Katie, reading off my button.
“Um, I’m Liz and I-I…” I stutter, regretting not thinking of this beforehand, “I have broken my arm four times. All from basketball.”
“Interesting,” says Katie, “The same one?”
I nod.
Katie leans back on the wall. “Okay. Let’s just relax for now until arts and crafts. After that, we’re going straight to dinner- no stopping back at the cabin, ” says Katie. We all get up and chat with one and other. Monica climbs up onto my bed. Thought suddenly start racing through my mind. Does this mean we’re friends? Or is this just something that everyone does to the new kids. No, that would be weird. Wow, I guess we are friends. I’ve only known this girl for half an hour and we’re already friends! Wow, my first camp friend! I need to take a picture…
“I’m so glad to be back!” she says, interrupting me from my train of thought, “The first night is always the best! We get awesome food and we get to go to the opening campfire. It’s so much fun…”
“I’m guessing you’ve been here before,” I laugh.
“Yeah. This is my sixth year. I’ve been coming since I was a Bandit.”
“And a Bandit is…”
“Those cute little eight-year olds you see running around camp.”
“Ah,” I told her.
Monica blew up her cheeks and let out a slow breath. “I’m tired. I think I might take a rest. The whole flight was eight hours and I didn’t sleep a wink.”
“Woah. Where do you live?”
“California.”
I am impressed. “I love California! Well, I’ve actually never been there, but I love the idea of it. I’ve always wanted to go!”
“Cool,” she mutters, rubbing an eye, “Can you wake me when it’s time to go?”
“Sure,” I say. I kind of wish she’d talk to me some more, but she didn’t look like she could stay up for another minute.
I lean back on my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I glance around the cabin. Everyone seems to be doing the same thing. Relief washes over me. No one else has made any friends yet. I decide it’s time to make one. I get down from my bunk and scan everyone else’s, searching for a conversation-starter.
Chapter 7
I spot a small abstract drawing, clearly drawn by someone under six, taped to the wall next to a girl’s bunk. I squint my eyes, trying to think of her name. I suddenly remember. It’s Sara. She sits cross-legged on her flowered comforter, reading a very thick novel. Her brown hair is pulled over her shoulder. “That’s a nice drawing,” I say. “Who made it?”
She looks up from her dictionary-sized book. “Huh?”
“Nice picture,” I say, pointing to it.
“Thanks,” Her head shoots back down.
“Um, who made it?”
“My brother,” she says monotonously, not looking up.
“Ah,” I say. I let out a small huff. This girl is obviously not interested in making friends. Oh well, I think, Her loss.
I climb back up to my bed, slightly saddened by my failure. I continue to stare blankly at the ceiling, hypnotized by the crack running across it. I blink. My eyes begin to feel more and more heavy. Arts and crafts doesn’t start in a while, I think. Maybe just a couple of minutes of sleep won’t hurt. I am beginning to persuade myself.
After what seemed like no time at all, two soft hands suddenly shake me. “Get up! It’s time for A and C!”
“Wha?” I mumble, tumbling out of bed.
“Come on! We don’t have much time to get ready!”
I turn to see where the voice is coming from. Monica is looking at me, a straightening iron in hand, flattening out her wavy locks. “We have to get ready!” she repeats.
“Ready?” I mumble, rubbing an eye.
“You have to look presentable the first dinner of the session!” she said as if I should have known.
“You do?” I say, wanting to crawl back under my warm sheets. “Dinner doesn’t start until after arts and crafts!”
“Well, you don’t have to. It’s just that everyone does. Plus, it’s going to be the first time all session we’ll meet the Ewoks. Also, we won’t be stopping back at the cabin until after dinner, so we have to get ready now!”
“The who?” I haven’t heard of Ewoks. They aren’t in the pamphlet. They sound like something straight out of Star Wars.
She doesn’t answer me and continues straightening.
I pull out my trunk and pick out my prettiest blouse and a pair of jeans. (The Ewoks sound important, so I’m taking Monica’s word for it). The shirt is my favorite short-sleeved babydoll top, a beautiful shade of green with Abercrombie’s signature; a silver moose sewed on the bottom right-hand corner. I slip on my jeans and pink flip-flops. I think my ensemble is a little too garish for camp, but I shrug it off. Monica stares at my feet uncertainly.
“You can’t wear those around camp,” she says.
“Well, what do you wear?”
“Crocs,” she answers simply. I look down to find she has a pair of pink ones on her small feet.
“I don’t have those.”
She tosses me a light blue pair. They’re hideous. “Borrow mine. I have three pairs.”
I slip them on my feet. They feel tight. I have to write a letter to my mom asking for a pair of my own. I quickly grab my brush and run it through my dirty blonde (almost light brown) hair. I look in the bathroom mirror and wave my mascara wand over my eyelashes. Good enough, I think.
“Okay, let’s go!” Katie yells from the main room.
It takes about five minutes for everyone to slowly file out of the bunkroom. It’s a good thing Katie tells us five minutes before we actually have to go. I figure she must have worked with kids our age before. I jump down the stairs with Monica by my side. “So,” I ask, “ What are Ewoks?”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “The boy half of camp that’s thirteen and older,” she replies cooly. Oh.
Chapter 8
“So that’s why everyone has to look presentable?”
“Basically,” She says as she rubs her thin lips together to spread her watermelon lip gloss.
My chest feels heavy all over again. Boys. It’s not like this is news to me. The pamphlet (which seems to be the way of life lately) specifically states that it’s a coed camp. But I had no clue we’d be interacting with them…or eating dinner with them! I happen to eat like a starved pig. My mom has told me countless times.
Monica and I walk all the way to the Arts and crafts lodge, without saying a single word. “You guys behave so well!” Katie tells us.
We walk up the wood ramp into the old building. I swing open the creaky screen door and the smell of paint becomes overwhelming. I see some little kids (Bandits?) dropping multicolored brushes into the grimy sink in the corner and some others placing their soaking-wet masterpieces onto a drying rack. I hope I don’t have to paint. I can not ruin this shirt or my mom will have my head.
“Let’s go!” Calls a scruffy-looking counselor. The young boys follow him out the dimly lit room and outside.
I sit on a cold, metal chair with various paint stains all over it. I place my elbows on the wood table, suddenly jerking them back to find a nice smear of green paint on my arm. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to walk up to the sink anytime I want to wash my hands off or anything, so I sit there with a pea-green smear on myself.
A girl who looks about Katie’s age walks out of a door in the corner of the room, leading to some mystery place. She twists a strand of black hair (obviously dyed- her roots are three inches long) around her finger. I can’t help but stare at her multiple piercings on her ears, eyebrows and lip. When she opens her mouth to speak, I find she has one on her tongue, too.
“Welcome to arts and crafts,” she says. I’m surprised she doesn’t have a lisp with all that metal in her mouth. “I’m Gretchen. Today, we’ll just make lanyard. We won’t get into anything fancy yet, having that it’s the first day. Knock yourselves out,” I let out a breath of relief that we won’t be working with paint.
We all rush up to the myriad of lanyard, snipping off gigantic proportions to make our masterpieces. I take a two-foot-long piece of green and a piece of purple that’s the same size. I sit down on my chair and begin to make the box, the only lanyard I know how to make. I notice Monica creating what appears to be a much harder version of the box, but with about ten strings.
We work in silence for about a half an hour before Katie glances at her watch and announces, “ Wrap it up, girls! It’s time to get going to dinner!”
We stuff out lanyard into our pockets and march up the hill to the dining hall. We step into the building to be greeted by about twenty square tables and a lovely crowd of bustling people. “Over here, girls!” Katie shouts over the ruckus.
We follow her over to the table with a yellow hand-drawn sign saying “12A” taped to the side of the table. We all take a seat. I sit with Katie on my left and Nicole on my right. Nicole seems nice; she might even be friend-material, unlike Sara.
“Okay girls, according to the chore chart I took the liberty of making-” Katie says before being interrupted by as series of groans, “Stephanie is getting the food and setting the table.” I look down the table at her. She scratches her strawberry-blonde hair and shrugs. I have decided she’s not very interesting.
I glance at the other side of the room to take a look at the Ewoks. They are all laughing, hitting each other, and banging on the tables…except for one. He’s staring right at me. Our eyes meet and he quickly looks away. I get a little pang of embarrassment. Thoughts start racing through my mind. Maybe he likes me. Maybe we’ll have a secret hideout together and meet there, for our love is forbidden. How romantic! He likes me. Do I like him? I don’t know! I rub my forehead. Boy, I can get carried away. My heart sinks as I notice him wave at another girl walking by.
I continue to look around. Another Ewok catches my eye. He is glaring up at the ceiling, deep in thought. I wonder if he daydreams, too. I notice how his beautiful brown eyes sparkle as he moves his gaze from the ceiling to the table, his tan face resting on his hands. I officially like this guy.
My daydream is interrupted by a nasal laugh. I whip around to see the snotty girl from earlier taking a seat at our table. UGH!, I think to myself, I jinxed it!
Chapter 9
“Sorry I’m late,” she sings, rolling up her shorts even higher, “There was this whole fiasco about my name getting mixed up. I ended up in a bandit cabin!”
“Oh! You must be Samantha!” Katie exclaims, “Girls, this is Samantha.”
We all mumble a “hello”.
“Oh, you guys can just call me Sam!” she gushes as if she had just been complimented.
Stephanie brings over the plates, forks, and cups and hands them to us. She looks up to see Sam smiling at her. They both let out a squeal and giddily run over to each other.
“Sammie!” Stephanie says with a grin a mile wide.
“Steffie!” screams Sam with twice as much enthusiasm.
We all give each other confused glances.
“Oh, Steffie and I were complete BFFs last year!” Sam says, as if reading our minds. She sits in the empty chair next to where Stephanie is sitting.
“Be right back! I have to go get the food!” says Stephanie with sudden enthusiasm.
“Don’t forget we live in a town!” Sam laughs.
Stephanie throws her head back and lets out a whoop. I see her shoulders shake as she walks up to get the food. Sam grins at their own private joke.
I am pretty annoyed, but I suddenly stop myself.
I have no proof that this girl is mean or snobby, I think, Just because she looked at me weird doesn’t mean she’s a horrible person. Maybe she was just holding in a sneeze or something.
This lovely thought comforts me just for a mere second. When I see her get up to go to the bathroom, I notice she runs into some poor bandit and snaps, “Watch where you’re going!” The little kid looks like he’s about to cry. I sadly watch him walk over to his table, holding back gallons of tears. When you’re eight, a mean big kid is certainly something to cry about.
I clench my fists as I helplessly watch her walk over to my crush-for-the-past-five-minutes. She rests her manicured hand on his shoulder and laughs at something one of his friends just said. She looks towards our table, whispers something into What’s His Name’s (or WHN for short) ear, and completely cracks up. WHN looks up at her and gives her a smile full of his pearly-white teeth (the abnormally straight kind people only have after having braces) and gives a tug on the collar of his navy-blue T-shirt. My stomach does a three-sixty.
Chapter 10
“Get back here!” Katie barks at Sam, “No socializing with other cabins during mealtimes!”
I think to myself, Go Katie!
Sam shrugs and skips back to our table. She plops back in her seat, eagerly anticipating Stephanie’s return with the food. I secretly want to pour the pitcher of powdered lemonade sitting on the faux-wood table onto her highlighted locks (which look totally tacky, by the way). It takes all the strength in my body to resist doing so.
“Okay girls,” Katie announces, “I’m just going to go over the general rules of the dining hall. First, if you eat the last serving of food on a plate, you ask if anyone wants more and then you take a block-” she holds up a white square of plastic with 7A printed on it in black Sharpie, “- and go up to the kitchen to get it filled. You may not leave the table without a block. If you would like to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a salad, you can go and get one over there-” she points over to the other side of the dining hall. “If you forget a block at either the salad station or the peanut butter and jelly station and someone from another cabin finds it, we will be forced to sing in front of the entire dining hall. Did I forget anything?” She looks around. “Okay then.”
Stephanie suddenly pops out of nowhere and places a steaming tray of corn dogs on the table. I bite my lip. Corn dogs are not exactly my favorite food. I recall trying one once at a party when I was five, only to spit it into a nearby urn. Actually, I don’t think I ever knew what corn dogs were made of. I see girls squirting dollops of ketchup and mustard on their own UFO’s (Unidentified Food Object)-on-a-stick.
To my horror, Monica shoves half of hers in her mouth at once. I shudder as a blob of blood-red ketchup drips onto the table. She picks up a corn dog and hands it to me, her sticky fingers around the wooden stick. “Have one,” she says with a smile, “Sorry I’m so messy with them. They’re just my favorite!”
I want to point out that it sort of defeats the purpose of dressing up… the boys are probably just as panic-stricken as I am… but I keep my mouth shut.
Chapter 11
I eye the table and notice the corn dogs on the blue plastic plate are disappearing faster than free samples at Krispy Kreme. I sigh and grab one. I quickly take a nibble out of it. I munch as fast as I can, trying not to taste the crunchy, soft, warm, juicy…I look down in surprise. Is this a corn dog I’m eating? I take another chomp… and another… and before I even know it, I wolf down an entire corn dog. It isn’t long before I reach for another one and drown it in ketchup. I devour it, not even caring how I look. No wonder Monica doesn’t mind!
I reach for yet another without realizing it’s the last one on the plate. Sam points to the plate. “You kill it, you fill it, Lizzy!”
“Huh?” I wonder how she knows my name and realize stupidly that I’m wearing a button with my name on it (the name which I do not want to be called, actually).
“Go fill the corn dogs,” she instructs.
“Uh, okay. Where do I go?”
“Up to the kitchen,” Jessie tells me pointing to a door with the word “kitchen” printed above it in all caps “did you not hear anything Katie just said?”
“Okay,” I say, grabbing the plate.
“Don’t forget your block,” Monica reminds me, handing me the white square of plastic.
Once we’re finished, we stack up our plates and cups and sweep the floor. We chant for a ranger to come check our table, (whatever that is) and leave.
Chapter 12
After dinner, Katie tells us that we have to go straight to the council ring to have an opening campfire. I imagine a nice, warm fire in the cool summer night. I imagine us roasting marshmallows and telling funny stories. I then wonder how we’re supposed to do that with the whole camp- about 300 people.
I arrive in the council ring to find that “the campfire” is actually a decent-sized fire (it seems much smaller, though) in the far right-hand corner of the small outdoor amphitheater. We file in and take a seat in the very middle. I look around. The council ring is half-full, yet I see no sign of WHN. I finally catch a glimpse of him walking in with his cabin. I turn over to Monica and whisper, “Who’s that?” pointing to WHN.
“In the blue shirt? That’s Jake,” she says simply. Jake…Jake and Liz, I think to myself. The name is just so perfect.
“Tell me more,” I say, eagerly leaning forward.
She grins. “You like him!”
“Umm…yeah!” I laugh. I have never been too secretive about boys. I don’t really care if anyone knows except for the guy I’m crushing on.
“Yeah, you and every girl in camp!” She runs her fingers through her silky hair. I still think she looks pretty, even after devouring several ketchup-covered corn dogs.
“So?” I smile mysteriously.
“Okay,” she sighs. I get a feeling she’s told about a billion girls about Jake today. “He’s from Greenwich, Connecticut, he likes basketball, and he’s been going to camp for as long as I have…that’s how I know him. He had this thing last year with Sam, but he was never really into her. He dumped her after only one week. She was so mad, she denied he even broke up with her at all.”
Chapter 13
I cling onto every word and play it all over in my head. I smile, remembering how she said he liked basketball- something we have in common! I now have a conversation-starter if I ever talk to him.
“Want me to introduce him to you after the campfire?” she asks.
I can’t say yes fast enough. “Of course!”
I watch the various skits and dances made up by the counselors with fake interest as the actual campfire begins. At a few points, we have to get up and do arm gestures to go with the camp songs the counselors sing, which I only pretend to know. Meanwhile, the only thing I can think about is Jake, Jake and Jake.
After what seems like years, the performance finally comes to an end. Monica pulls me by the arm as the same scruffy-looking counselor from arts and crafts dismisses the Utopians and Ewoks. Monica takes me by the arm and leads me straight to Jake’s cabin group as I scurry along beside her. She taps him on the shoulder. He hesitates for a moment, then turns around and faces us. “Hey Jake,” she says, giving him a friendly hug.
“Hey Moaner!” He laughs. Does everyone at this camp have private jokes? “Have a good school year?”
“No!” She laughs. “Who does? How was b-ball?”
“Pretty good. I’ve improved a lot,” he says. His eyes suddenly turn towards me and we lock eyes for a moment. My heart skips a beat.
“Oh! This is Liz!” Monica says, “She’s my new camp buddy. I hear she’s really into basketball, too.” I wonder how on earth she knows this, but I suddenly remember my random fact was that I had broken my arm four times from playing basketball.
He grins at me and my heart skips another beat. “Really? Are you planning on taking the basketball clinic?”
I have no clue what a basketball clinic is. I begin to panic. “Um, maybe,” I blurt out.
“I’ll see you there, then,” he says. My insides completely melt. About five seconds later, my insides freeze up again. Sam suddenly shows up out of nowhere and puts her arm around Jake’s shoulders.
Chapter 14
"Jake!" She says urgently, "I haaaavvvee to talk to youu!"
"Maybe later, Sam. I was just talking to Monica and her friend."
"Come awn!" She urges.
He sighs. "Gotta go," Jake says, "Nice meeting you Liz." He smiles. My heart flutters. My muscles can relax now knowing that Jake isn't interested in Sam.
Katie rounds us up to go back to the cabin. “Girls, once you have your pajamas on, meet me in the center room so we can do devotions. The faster you are, the more flashlight time you’ll have!”
I pull my trunk out from under my bed and pull on my favorite pair of Soffes (peach-colored) and a T-shirt. I am the first one in the center room and take a seat on one of the couches. I pretend to be interested in my nails as the rest of my cabin files in.
“Now girls,” Katie tells us, “as most of you know, devotions, or devos for short, are when we sort of get to know each other better. We will do one every night, even when we go on our overnight, but I’ll get to that later. There is no talking when others are talking and we must be respectful of each other. We might do some personal stuff, so I would like to remind you girls that nothing leaves this room. Got it?”
We all nod.
“Tonight we’ll do a simple devo. I’ll say something like, ‘favorite movie’ and we’ll go around in a circle and say our favorite movie. I’ll go first and we’ll do a clockwise circle. First let’s do favorite pizza topping. My favorite is pepp-“
We are suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.
Chapter 15
Katie jumps up to answer it. In the doorway is a curly-haired young man, who I guess is an Ewok counselor because he’s wearing the Ewok village shirt (Dark yellow, if you were wondering. I’m beginning to know my stuff). He and Katie talk quickly, and they both have concerned looks on their faces. We strain our ears trying to hear what they’re talking about. The only words I can make out are missing, hurry, opening campfire, and devos. I have absolutely no clue what this could possibly be about, so I wait for further instruction.
Katie finally turns around. She purses her lips as if she is about to blow us a kiss and exhales. “Well girls, there has been a slight change in plans. Instead of doing devos with just our cabin, we’ve decided to go up to East Lodge and do them there for a while with an Ewok cabin. OK?” She says, obviously trying to conceal her concern.
Monica squeezes my arm. I know what she’s thinking; Ewoks!
Katie quickly leads us to East Lodge, where I see the Ewok cabin. Katie quickly runs off with the Ewok counselor and a flashlight without saying another word. We kick off our Crocs (my mom sent me a mango-colored pair! Yay!) on the newly redone hardwood floor. It smells like paint. I look at the Ewoks sitting against the wall, looking bored. I suddenly recognize the faces of them. Jake’s cabin! With one look I know he’s not there.
“Where’s Jake?” I mutter to Monica.
She casually flicks a ball of fuzz from her shirt and shrugs in response. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about Sam fl-
Oh. My. God. I hadn’t noticed Sam was missing until that very moment.
Chapter 16
I whip around to face Stephanie, who is adjusting her light blue Hollister cami. “Where’s Sam?” I ask casually.
Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “I don’t know what you are taking about!”
“Well, she’s not here, is she?”
“I have no idea!” she says a little too loudly. She obviously does have an idea. “I-I haven’t seen them since the opening campfire!” She tugs harder on her cami until I’m afraid it might break.
“You mean her?”
“That’s what I said!” she snaps and turns around.
I turn to tell Monica my suspicions to find her sitting against the wall with the Ewok cabin, laughing it up. I plop down next to her and sit criss-cross-applesauce (my favorite term for sitting indian-style). She smiles at me and then continues her conversation with a short, dark-haired Ewok. I awkwardly listen and watch Jesse and Nicole excessively flirt with two Ewoks.
After a few minutes of listening, I decide to cut in during a moment of silence. “You saw The Red Hot Chili Peppers live?” I ask him, referring to his concert tee.
He pinches his shirt and looks down, as if he didn’t realize he was wearing it. “Um, yeah. It was pretty cool. I went with my cousin last summer right before camp. Do you like them?”
“Yeah, I really like their music! But usually I’m mostly into indie stuff,” I say. “You like any other type of music?”
“Rock, basically,” he replies. I look directly into his face. His eyes are a light shade of blue, and to tell you the truth, they are the prettiest color I have ever seen. His dark brown hair (almost black, but nobody has black hair, duh) just touches the tips of his upper eyelashes. I can tell that he's hardly reached p u b e r t y, because the tip of his head reaches about the same height as my top lip.
“My brother’s so weird. He won’t listen to anything but Coldplay, so that’s basically what I have to listen to all the time, whether I want to or not. I don’t even really like them.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, “All their songs basically sound the same, too. If you play one of their CDs straight through, it sounds like one long song.”
I laugh, too, knowing exactly what he means. “Erm.” I jump. I had almost forgotten Monica was there. “I’m gonna got talk to Nicole and Jesse,” she says with a sigh and gets up onto her feet.
I turn back to the Ewok to continue our conversation when I realize Monica hadn’t bothered to introduce me. “Oh! I’m Liz, by the way,” I say.
“I’m Zach,” he says, flipping his hair oh-so casually, obviously trying to look cute. I have to bite my lip to keep from giggling.
Chapter 17
“Is this your first year at camp?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh, “My mom used to come here, but she decided just this year I should come, so here I am.”
“That’s cool,” he nods.
“How do you know Monica?” I ask.
“I’ve known her for a while. We both came here as kids. She’s nice, but she can sometimes get a little on my nerves.”
I laugh a short, quick laugh, even though I really have no clue what he’s talking about. Monica seems fine to me. I shrug it off, thinking nothing of it. We continue talking for what seems like hours, but I don’t mind. We talk about the randomest things; music, shoes, snobby girls (no, I did not mention Sam), sports (he likes basketball, too, but he’s mostly into soccer), TV shows, board games, and just about everything else you could imagine. I glance up at the clock, to realize it’s almost ten thirty. I also recall Katie telling us we were supposed to devos in here. “Where are they?” I say softly to myself.
“God, I completely forgot about Dan and Katie. Do you think we should do anything?”
“Probably not. It would be best if we stayed here.”
“We should do something fun while we wait for them to get back,” he suggested.
“And what exactly do you have in mind?” I ask, not expecting an answer.
He looks at me and grins. “Let’s have a rave.”
And so it is decided between the two of us. We go behind the small stage in the front of the room to look for a strobe light and music to play. Zach finally pulls a black cube out from behind a box in the storage closet we were searching through. It is caked with dust. “Just where I left it last summer,” he smiles. He brushes the dust off with the back of his hand, turning it gray.
After hardly any searching, Zach brings me over to a closed Dentyne Ice-colored MacBook perched on a faux-wood table. He presses the POWER button and it hums to life. He turns to me. “I took the acting clinic last summer. I couldn’t act at all, so I was put in charge of lights and music and stuff instead. They have Rhapsody on this computer, so we can listen to basically anything. Not to mention it’s hooked up to speakers so everyone can hear.” We go onto the stage and plug in the strobe light.
“Hey everyone!” Zach yells, “Let’s have a rave!”
Chapter 18
Everyone cheers and I hit the lights as Zach turns on the strobe light. He runs backstage and turns on Kevin Rudolf’s “Let It Rock”. I can’t help but jump down and start dancing along.
“Because when I arrive, I, I bring the fire. Make you come alive. I can take you higher. What this is, forgot? I must now remind you, let it rock, let it rock, let it rock.”
Before I knew it, everyone was dancing, even the shyest of people. I run over to Monica and begin showing off what I had learned in four years of hip-hop classes (yeah, I do that in addition to basketball). Some kid who I don’t recognize is break-dancing in the front of the room and a small circle has formed around him. I decide to go and join the group to see.
I can’t recognize his face, but let me tell you, I have never seen anyone spin on their head like that kid. He turns on his back, and lurches himself onto his feet. After a couple of flips that had me gasping, he hopped out of the circle. I leave the group and look around to see if Zach is anywhere in sight. I don’t see him. I go backstage to find that he’s hunched over the MacBook. I tap his shoulder and he turns around.
“What are you doing? C’mon and join the rave!” I tell him.
“I can’t really dance or anything…” he trails off.
I pull his arm. “Let’s go. I’ll show you!”
Still rather hesitant, he allows me to lead him onto the dance floor. The first song has ended and some techno beat, which I do not recognize, is playing. It doesn’t matter to me though. I just get out there and dance like a crazy person. The strobe light makes me -dizzy, and I go into a dream-like state. I can’t help but notice that Zach is staring at me, his arms stiff at his side. I come to an abrupt stop. “Cone awwnn!” I urge.
“There’s no way I can dance like that.”
I am about to respond when the lights flicker on. “WHAT IS THIS?”
Chapter 19
Everyone is silent. The music is still blaring, but no one notices. Everyone is staring at Dan and Katie. “TURN THAT MUSIC OFF!” Katie yells. Zach runs over to the speakers and unplugs them. “What gave you the idea that it was ok to do this when the counselor isn’t there? WHAT?” she pauses, as if waiting for a response, “I did not expect this from any of you! I can’t believe my campers would go and have some…some… DANCE PARTY! This is unacceptable! And not to mention you woke up a nearby Nit Nois cabin!”
Dan makes an attempt at speaking. “I-”
“Who is responsible for this? WHO?” she bellows in a voice I hoped I would never have to hear.
To my horror, Zach steps forward. “Me.”
I feel the pain of guilt in my chest. “Me too,” I say quietly.
“What was that?” Her tone is so sharp, it almost hurts my ears.
Ugh, she wants me to repeat it! “Me, too,” I reply just a little louder.
Katie steps back. She looks as if I had slapped her in the face. Her voice shakes a little as she asks us, “Anyone else?” Everyone is silent. “Fine, then. Zach, Liz, come with me.”
I swallow hard. I have never gotten in trouble before. Ever. I am (excuse me, I mean was) the type of girl who got A’s and B’s, always spoke politely, followed directions, and paid attention in school. I always did my chores and never fought with my brother (what’s there to fight about, anyway?). Now, I’m some sort of delinquent who has raves without telling their counselor. I follow Katie, with the same heavy feeling in my chest I got on the first day of camp.
Zach glances up and me and mouths, I’m sorry. By the expression on his face, I can tell that he really is.
S’okay, I mouth back, even though I know I got myself into this. I’m being paranoid, I tell myself, you’re too goody-goody, Liz. Get over it and take the blame for the one semi-bad thing you’ve ever done in your life.
I am lying to myself. I have done quite a few bad things not half as bad as this.
Chapter 20
“It’s my fault, too,” I whisper to Zach reassuringly, shaking the memory.
I glance over to the side of the lodge’s porch as we walk outside. Jake and Sam are sitting on the ground (a good distance away from each other) and they don’t dare to look up. I would be angry or sad, but I feel like I’m about to barf instead. Katie is still ahead of us. Zach and I are still walking. We are still in trouble. We walk in utter silence up to my cabin.
Katie opens the door and allows us to walk inside. It reminds me of when in haunted houses a reaper opens the door for you, motioning for you to come in. “Be my guest! You have nothing to fear…”. I slowly walk in, counting my steps.
“Sit,” Katie demands, and we drop on to the couch without hesitation. “I am not going to lecture you about your behavior. You know perfectly well what you both have done wrong. Having some sort of party while the counselors aren’t there is completely unacceptable!” Her words stab me like knives. She looks straight at me. “You two will spend most of your time in this room for the next five days. While the rest of your cabins are out doing fun activities, you will be in here.” I feel like she’s mocking me. She gets up and begins to walk out the door. “Zach, I’ll take you back to your cabin. Liz, get to bed.”
I meekly crawl into my bed and hide under the covers as I choke back my tears. I lay there wide-awake with the lights on. I hold my breath as the other girls walk in a half an hour later. I don’t move a muscle and hope they think I’m asleep.
Chapter 21
“Is she asleep?” I hear someone mumble.
“I think so.”
“What happened?”
“I have no idea.”
“Someone said she snuck out after the clinic presentations with him.”
I let my breath out when I realize they’re talking about Sam. I hadn’t even noticed she had walked in. I was too full of pity for myself to notice anything but the other girls walking in.
As the giggling and chattering of the girls dies down and the light turns off, I eventually begin to fall asleep.
I wake up the next morning to the bugle and jump out of bed with a full heart. A lump forms in my throat when I remember the night before. I swallow hard and weakly ask Katie (who’s already out of bed and putting makeup on, though she tells us it’s pointless and a waste of time to put makeup on in the morning) “will I be going to flagpole today?”
She dips her mascara wand into the silver Full n’ Soft tube. “No.”
“Oh. Well, what will I be doing instead?”
“Cleaning the cabin.”
Ew. “What about breakfast?”
“I’ll bring you guys bagels or something later.”
‘You guys’, meaning Zach and me. I get dressed, bush my teeth, and wait patiently in the center room. Maybe I’ll get let out early for good behavior.
As the cabin groups walks in dabbing the last bits of makeup on their already-flawless faces, Katie shoves a list of chores in my face. “I want these done before we come back to get our bathing suits on at eleven for our swimming test. I expect you to be ready to go, also.”
I look down at the list:
1. Sweep porch
2. Mop bathroom floor + clean out sinks
3. Clean bathroom mirrors
4. Pick up garbage all throughout cabin
It seems simple enough to do, so I get started on sweeping the porch. I pull out a broom from the supply closet and go outside to begin my first chore. I can’t help but feel like Cinderella, sweeping up the porch while my evil (well, at least one is actually evil) sisters get to go to the royal banquet consisting of eggs and bacon. I clench my fists as I think of Sam, who did something much worse than I did by sneaking out, getting to go to the banquet and whisk away my prince charming.
I push Sam out of my mind so I can concentrate on cleaning more. What fun.
Chapter 22
Before I know it, the day passes by. The girls soon file in after dinner, throwing their clothes on the floor and brushing their hair over the sinks. Hair and blobs of toothpaste now decorate the yellowing tiled floor. I sigh as I watch my day's work dissolve before my eyes.
Before I can even go into the bathroom to brush my teeth, Katie catches me and hands me a disgustingly full garbage bag. I clutch it in my fist and nearly drop it as she releases her grip; it's heavier than I thought it would be. "Take this to the dumpster behind the dining lodge," she instructs monotonously. Without another word, she walks over to her bed. I have no idea where this dumpster is behind the dining lodge, but I dare not question Katie, for the fear she might punish me even more. I lug the black bag onto the porch, and slip on an overly-huge pair of yellow crocs which certainly don't belong to me, but I hardly care.
I hadn't realized how cold and dark it would be outside. The light wind nipped at my bare arms, and I suddenly regret not wearing a sweatshirt. I continue to walk in absolute terror. I look behind my back every few seconds, only to see darkness. Anyone could be behind me right now, I think in horror. Instead of sprinting the entire way to the dining hall (which by the way, is nearly impossible because of the immense weight of the garbage bag) I hold my breath and think of puppies. Or Jake. My heart skips a beat at the mere picture of his face. I just keep on thinking of him, and my courage is fueled nearly halfway to the dining hall.
All of a sudden, I hear a light rustling. My heart quickly jumps into my throat. A twig snaps. Someone is behind the bush right in front of me. Or something, I think with a shudder. I dare myself to look behind the tall bush to see what's there.
Chapter 23
My heart comes to a complete stop. Kneeling there behind the bush is Jake... and... MONICA?
Right there. Behind the bush. I see Monica giggle and Jake flash that thousand-watt smile of his that would have made my heart melt five minutes ago. “So you’ll go with me to final banquet?” he confirms.
“I wouldn’t go with anyone else!” she squeals, pulling him into a bear hug.
A whole wave of emotions pour into me, some I can't even describe: Betrayal, confusion, anger, and most of all, sadness. I open my mouth to make a noise, but not a peep escapes from my mouth. Instead of confronting Monica, or yelling at her, or asking Jake, "How could you do this to me?", I silently step back and run all the way back to the cabin, leaving the bag of trash behind.
I sprint as fast as I can, so maybe the girls might think my face was red from running, so they wouldn't think I was crying. I think of that as a lame excuse. All I wanted to do at that moment was to get away as fast as I could.
I bolt through the door and don't look up from the gray carpeting. I dart up the ladder and dive into my bed. I can't help it; I start sobbing. I bite my pillow and create a round area of saliva. I suddenly hold my breath, remembering that there are other girls in the cabin. When I lift up my red face, no one is in the cabin at all. Not in their bunks, not in the main room.
That was when I heard someone else sobbing. I peek over my pillow to see Sam, wiping tears from her red cheeks.
Chapter 24
Sam continues to hiccup, and I notice an unattractive booger hanging out of her nose. She lets out another wail, and cries some more. Now, normally I wouldn't care. I wouldn't bother with her at all. But some little voice deep inside me told me to go down and ask her what was wrong. Somehow that little voice managed to grab a lock of my hair and pull me down the ladder before I could resist.
"Where is everyone?"
Her entire body quickly tenses up, and her eyes dart towards me. Whoops. Guess she didn't know I was there.
"W-what do you want?" she nearly spits. I am taken aback by her sudden aggression.
"I want to know where everyone is." My eyes well up with tears again, remembering that I know where one girl is.
She wipes another tear from her cheek. "Oh. They went to do devos in East Lodge again. Why aren't you with them?"
"Well, no one told me about those plans, so I guess I wasn't invited. And you?"
I can tell she is a little more relaxed now by the decrease in quivering in her voice. "Well, remember last night when I was missing for a while?"
I nod, remembering very well.
"Well, Stephanie ratted me out, so I naturally got into major trouble"
"For doing what?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure I know already.
The shakiness returns to her voice again. "I-I thought Jake might still like me, if he ever did at all. It's just that Monica told me last year he did. B-because I really liked him, I guess. She might have just told me that to make me feel better. I don't know. It was only my first year. A-and I thought that he m-might want to sneak off with me during clinic presentations. He came. B-but he told me he...he..."
I give her a reassuring pat on the back, desperately wanting to know what Jake said.
"D-didn't like meee" she was now full-out bawling, her face the color of Monica's watermelon gloss, "h-he said he liked someone else!"
I look at her face for any traces of dishonesty, but all I can see is sincerity. I almost felt a little pang of hope. Almost.
"I-I thought he meant you. So I got really mad and ran as fast as I could to anywhere I could go," I know the feeling,I wanted to say , "Th-then Katie caught me. She said I was in a-a lot of trouble. A-and then just before everyone left for devos, Monica told me Jake was hers. Th-that I shouldn't bother. I was pretty sure she was lying, b-but all this time I thought she was so nice... her and Steph. But they've both turned against me... I'm sorry I'm telling you all this. I-I hardly know you, but I felt like I needed to get it off my chest."
She is so upset. I can't help but hug her as she buried her face in my arms. This time, it was without the help of my conscience.
Chapter 25
As Sam and I sob together, the rest of the girls walk in, chatting and laughing. I want to confront Monica, but something holds me back. Something reminds me that it's probably not best for the confrontation to be public. And on top of all that, Sam has no clue about what I saw.
Katie marches over to me. As if it hadn't already been implied, my hatred towards her has quadrupled. "You didn't take the garbage to the back of the dining hall like I had asked you," she said.
Well, duh, I think I know that.
"I had to take it up to the dining hall myself," she informed me, as if it was some kind of achievement. "You're welcome." She turns away and walks into the center room.
I feel my cheeks. They're still wet. I could hear no concern in Katie's voice whatsoever, though she could clearly see Sam and I were crying. Some role model.
After kind words from most of the girls, me and Sam get up to go get ready for bed. I glance over at Monica. She doesn't seem surprised me and Sam were doing things together. Actually, she was talking to Stephanie more than anyone, which I thought was a little unusual.
I take a deep breath. Show time.
"Monica can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Um, yeah, sure." I can't detect any nervousness in her voice, so she's either really confident in herself, or she doesn't know that I know.
As I weigh the options, I lead her into the main room, where no one can hear us. I breathe in deeply, and blurt out, "How could you!?"
She looks up from observing her polished fingernails. "Huh?"
"Don't act dumb! I know what you did!" My voice is shaky, and I try to stay as quiet as possible so the other girls don't get suspicious.
I realization, her mouth curves upward into a wicked grin. She looks like the Grinch. "Me and Jake, you mean?"
"YES! H-h-how could you? You KNEW I liked him! WHY?"
She sighs and shakes her head. "I almost feel sorry for you, that you didn't figure it out sooner."
"What are you talking about!?"
"Well, I knew that Jake likes you..." she turns towards me, "I mean, liked. And truthfully, that bugged me. I kinda liked Jake, but you never even bothered to realize that. So, I decided to tell him a few false things about you, to make him like me, well, even more than he liked you."
Her calmness makes me almost too angry to handle. I clench my teeth and curl my fists into balls. She was planning this since the day we met.
"Things sort of clicked for us," she says, "I attempted to do the same thing with your friend Sam last summer, buuuut... it didn't work as well as I had planned. However, Sam did end up heartbroken, and she never quite got over it..."
Chapter 26
"You are the biggest jerk ever! I can't believe that you would trick me like this! And poor Sam, too! Do you get pleasure from this? Do you like torturing other girls? Do you like seeing people cry over guys that you KIND OF LIKE!?" I yell.
"Well, it is pretty rewarding in the end," she sighs, "Jake is an amazing dancer! I can’t wait to have..."
"Just stop it! Stop talking! I don't want to hear any more!" I huffed, " I never want to talk to you again! I'm telling Katie, too!"
"Sorry, honey," she says with a phony apologetic grin, "I'm afraid there's no rule about sabotaging your cabin mates."
I try to think of something that will make her the tiniest bit afraid. "You had better watch your back, Monica. If I were you, I wouldn't have even tried messing with me." I try to act as tough as possible, but I truthfully have no idea what I'm talking about.
"I'm truly scared," she snorts.
I stomp into the bunk room and hop into my bed. I bite my pillow furiously with my orthodontically straightened teeth, imagining it being Monica's head.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks. She crawls next to me on the bunk. Sara, Jessie, and Nicole all surround us and ask similar questions. I'm positive they just want to know what happened so they could get in on the gossip. I can trust no one anymore.
I take in a sharp breath and wipe my cheeks. "I'm fine," I lie.
"You don't look fine," Nicole observes. Her tone is soft and promising.
"It's nothing. I... I'm just going to sleep, 'kay?"
No one questions me further. Sam jumps off my bed and I snuggle under my warm covers. Instead of falling asleep, I attempt to think of a plan to make Monica regret her decision to manipulate her cabin makes. Something that will make her regret coming to Camp Winnihana.
***
I wake up suddenly to a faint tapping on my window (I'm quite a light sleeper). My first thought is, Someone's trying to get into the cabin! My senses are suddenly shaken awake. I nervously peer out the window. I let out a sigh of relief.
Zach! What are you doing? I mouth through the slightly dirty glass.
He points over to the porch frantically.
I can't..., I attempt to argue, afraid of anyone hearing me crawl down the decrepit, creaky bunk bed.
He points even more frantically than before, exaggerating the urgency in his face. I almost laugh. Instead, I groan in defeat and carefully creep down the ladder. I tiptoe past Katie especially carefully, being careful to hold my breath. I successfully make my way to the porch, almost to collide with Zach.
"Liz! Liz!"
"Zach! Zach!" I laugh, "Try to quiet down, okay?"
"Sorry," he mumbles, "It's just that I have something really important to tell you, and it just couldn't wait."
Chapter 27
I fill up my cheeks with air and exhale. "It has to be around four thirty," I guess, observing the orange sun peeking out from behind Mount Mohawk. "It couldn't wait until tomorrow? I'm almost positive that Katie's going to make us work more."
"I, I couldn't sleep," he stammered.
I could definitely tell. He was in a black Rolling Stones T-shirt, an old sweatshirt, and blue plaid boxers. His hair was sticking up in odd angles and he had a pained look on his face.
"Well, what is it?" I ask, getting a little impatient. I need to sleep, too.
"Well, I was talking to James," he says, referring to one of his cabin mates, "and he told me that..."
"What?" I nearly spit. I suddenly realize how mean that sounds and immediately want to take it back. "Sorry. Continue."
"Well, he told me that Monica..." I can see that he's struggling. It must be bad. "Um, she told Katie and Dan what we were doing that night in the lodge. She wanted to get you into trouble."
I clench my fists and my nails dig into my flesh. I take a deep breath and ask, "Did you already hear about what else she did?"
"Yup. Sorry." he says to his feet.
"How did you find out so fast?"
"You get pretty good service here," he grins, pulling out a pine green enV phone from his sweatshirt pocket. "Everyone sneaks in their cell phones."
I nod, taking a mental note to bring my phone next year. Suddenly I remember what Zach came to tell me. "Wait, so Monica told Katie that we were having the dance party?! How could she do that?" My knuckles turn white.
"She's not a good person, Liz. She always gets what she wants, no matter what. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner that you should stay away from her."
I laugh. "You're here in you're boxers at four in the morning, aren't you?"
He smiles at me and then we both don't say anything for a while. It could have been minutes, seconds, or even hours that nothing broke that silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a peaceful one, when we just felt that there was nothing else left to say. Or one of us, at least.
"James told me something else," he says quietly.
My head snaps up. "What?"
"Well, he said that Monica told Jake that... you and I were going to final banquet together... so he wouldn't bother with you. He believed her."
"Just when I thought she couldn't get any more evil," I groan. I suddenly remember something. "We need to get her back. You know, teach her a lesson."
"How?" Zach asks.
"I'm not sure, but we need to do it soon. But more importantly, let's make her regret everything she's done since the moment she set foot at Camp Winnihana."
Chapter 28
We get planning right away. Zach suggests that Sam should be involved, too, so I silently go into the bunkroom and wake the pretty blonde up to let her in on our plan. She mutters something about finding her shoes and then drifts back to sleep. I shrug it off and go back outside.
I sit criss-crossed on the dirty porch. The old wood floorboards feel smooth and cool to the touch. Zach welcomes me with a warm smile and I can't help but smile back.
"So..." I say, as I try to stifle a shudder. It's colder out than I would expect, and shorts and a tank top are not ideal for breezy weather.
"Here," Zach says, as if reading my mind. He takes off his navy blue sweatshirt and drapes it over my bare shoulders. My insides are warmed, and I'm not sure how to react.
"Um, thanks."
"Welcome," he grins confidently.
His old Abercrombie sweatshirt is worn, but cozy. It smells like spice and pine needles; the way boys are supposed to smell. I feel a tingle up my back. Do I...?
***
We finally finish scheming a few hours later, as the bugle goes off. Zach sprints back to his cabin and I silently go back inside mine. The air feels thick and warm; someone must be taking a shower. The smell of extravagant perfumes and vanilla body spray waft from the bunkroom; everyone must be up already. I don't give it a second thought. I already came up with an alibi; I wanted to put my towel and bathing suit outside. It was pretty lame, but I hardly cared.
It was show time.
Monica walks into the main room, lazily rubbing an eye. She's already fully dressed. I take in a deep breath and say, "Jake just ran by. He wanted to talk to you."
She pouts her lips and crosses her arms. She looks pretty unattractive when she does that, actually. "Why should I believe you?"
I shrug innocently. "I dunno. He said something about regretting what he did... I'm not sure what he meant about that, though."
She visibly stiffens. "Yeah right," she says, but I know she's nervous.
"Well, if you change your mind, he said to meet him at his cabin before breakfast."
She shakes her head as if saying, whatever. However, I peer out the window from the bunkroom a few minutes later to see her tearing down the path in the direction of Jake's cabin. I smile. Our plan is falling into place.
Chapter 29
I glance over at the portable digital clock on the coffee table, and I figure that if I take five minutes to change, brush my hair, and brush my teeth, the I'll have enough time to sprint after Sam (I didn't make the varsity basketball team by being slow) before breakfast.
I end up finishing in three minutes, 26 seconds. I dash out the door and manage to go pretty fast despite the fat that I was wearing Crocs. I run as fast as I can to Zach's cabin without stopping. After about a minute, my ears start pounding. All of the summer noises around me become muffled and the only sound I can clearly hear is my heaving breathing. In, out, in, out, is all I can think. Don't stop now.
After what seems like forever, I finally reach Cabin 4B. I quickly hide behind a large nearby tree. As if on cue, Monica walks up the porch while Zach is casually arranging damp, mildewy towels on the porch railing. I hold my breath, even though I desperately want to gasp for air. "Where's Jake?" Monica asks. Even though I don't really like Jake anymore, it hurts me to think that such a horrible girl was chosen over me.
"You just missed him," Zach says, just as we had planed. "Dan sent him to go to The Supply Closet just a few minutes ago."
The Supply Closet is, well, the supply closet. Zach hod told me that going in there with out counselor permission is one of the biggest no-no's you could do at camp. You even need a pass. No one really knows for sure why, but Zach says that he thinks it's because the counselors hide all the food they confiscate at the beginning of the session in there. They apparently have a big party at the end of every session and eat it all. I doubt that, but I'm not really the one to argue.
Our plan wasn't exactly to get Monica caught in there, but something much better, and much more satisfying. As I watch Monica walk toward The Supply Closet I smile to myself. It's working.
***
I quickly run down the hill, careful not to fall face-first (which isn't improbable in my case). I arrive at the back of the supply closet. It is littered with dead leaves, garbage, and old cans of paint. An unidentifiable yet putrid smell wafts under my nose. I scrunch my face up in disgust.
I spot the hole Zach had told me about. I stand on top of a rusty paint can and manage to pull myself up through the hole without much effort. Dim light streams through toilet paper rolls binded in white paper, stacked up three rolls high. Cobwebs and dust cake every inch of the three walls I'm surrounded by. The fourth wall is nonexistent; I'm on a shelf. Zach had told me that he used to go in here when he was an Argonaut. I couldn't help but feel special that he told me about his secret hiding place.
"Jake? You in here?" I heard Monica ask.
I hold my breath as I crawl towards her voice. "Find the Tiffany's box... come on..." I urge. I dare to peer down; I'm at least three feet above her head. With a gulp I continue to crawl. I can feel dust and other unknown debris clinging to my shirt and shorts, and something sharp is digging into my knee. All I can think is, "Go towards the box... come on..."
"What's this?" I hear her say out loud. I peer down. She is clutching the tiny robin's egg blue box in her hands. She slowly pulls a small, white card out from the delicate white ribbon encircling the box. I can almost hear her heart in her ears as she reads the note Zach had forged.
Monica,
I can’t WAIT to go to final banquet with you! ... You are so kind and considerate, always putting others first... Treat yourself for once! Enjoy!
~Jake
"Jake? You in here?" she asks nobody.
3...2...1...NOW! I push over a full can of paint the color of Monica's empty Tiffany's box. A stream of blue paint pours over her wanna-be blonde locks (Sam had told me she dyed her hair over the school year...psh...). Before a scream can even escape from Monica's glossed lips, I accidentally knock something over with my foot.
All I heard after that was a thud, a bigger thud, and an "oh crap...".
Chapter 30
I cringe. it takes me a moment to realize that the voice had been mine, the thud had belonged to a dictionary-sized book which I had accidentally kicked off the shelf, and the second thud...
I tentatively peek over the edge of the shelf, expecting to see a ruby-red puddle of blood around Monica's body.
"I didn't mean to kill her!' I'd plead to the police. "Please don't arrest me... There are so many places I haven't gone and things I haven't done! I haven't even graduated form middle school yet! I've never kissed a boy before! Please!"
But instead of an ocean of angry red around Monica's body, a small puddle of innocent blue is splattered all over her spray-tanned body, which happens to be sprawled out on the cold, wood floor at the moment. The large book is laying beside her...I recognize the cover artwork... the book was Sara's (I assume that it had been confiscated from her for whatever reason). I silently curse Sara and her excessive reading and crawl as fast as I can back to the opening, unsure of what to do next.
***
As I rush into the stale-smelling room, I immediately stumble to Monica's side. My pale hands hover over her body, unsure of what I should do. Should I check for a pulse? What do I say if someone comes in? Just say that it fell on her? I would feel bad lying, though! But then again, I brought this all upon myself. Wait, no, Monica brought this upon herself, so it's not really my fault... I shake my head and decide to at least check if she's alive. Before my fingers even reach her wrist, my ears shatter at the noise of a scream loud enoughto be heard in Australia.
"WHY am I covered in PAINT?" she hollers until her face turns the color of a tomato. "WHY are YOU here?"
"I-I heard something and I came to see what happened." NOT a lie, I tell myself. "Why were you in here, anyways?"
"None of YOUR business," she snorts as if it was actually something important.
I open my mouth to retort when I suddenly hear, "What's going on?" Goosebumps crawl up my arms and legs. Her voice sounds like a combination of a crow's call and long nails against a blackboard.
I turn my head toward the source of the terrible noise... Katie.
Her scowling red face looks down at me. "Are either of you going to tell me what on earth happened in here?"
Without hesitating, Monica blurts out, "SHE dumped paint on me! SHE made me fall! IT'S ALL HER FAULT!"
I am speechless. I attempt to speak, but I end up mustering a "Whhaa?"
"You two are coming with me," Katie says to the both of us, but I'm sure she mostly means me.
Chapter 31
The director's office; the one place where I didn't want to end up. From what I've heard, the next stop after a meeting with Ray is home...no exceptions. The annoyingly uncomfortable red armchair that I was told to sit in might as well be made of needles. I can feel Katie's eyes of fire burning through my skull, frying my brain, making me insane. I attempt to pry my eyes away from all of the strategically-placed inspirational posters about good character decorating the small room.
I glance over at Monica to see how she's coping. Although her blue dreadlocks are awry and there is a growing red welt on her forehead (to which she's pressing a squishy blue cold compress) she appears rather calm. Her lower lip is protruding slightly and tears rim her lower eyelids. Sympathy and guilt overwhelm me, and I feel a little bad for what I did. She turns to me and nearly spits, “WHY did you have to get me into this mess? I didn’t do anything to you!”
I clench my jaw. “First off, I didn’t get you into anything. Second, you know very well why I would be upset at you, you little liar.”
She snorts, and I catch a glimpse her smiling to herself. If only I had hit her hard enough to shake her ill-willed personality out of her… I think to myself.
My heart skips a beat as I hear the click of a doorknob. I slouch further into the chair, hoping that I might suddenly take a liquid form and seep into a crack in the old wood floor. Unfortunately, I remain at a solid state as Ray takes a seat behind his desk. He grunts as he runs his slightly pudgy fingers through his short red hair and plays with the sparse amount of hair on his matching red face. He reminds me of Santa Claus, in some strange way. I definitely know who made the naughty list this year.
Calmly, Ray laces his fingers together and places them on his untidy desk, littered with camp brochures and various papers all colors of the rainbow. “Who would like to explain to me what just happened with you two girls?” he says with slight bitterness in his usually jolly tone of voice.
Monica, Katie, and I all burst into various stories in a cloud of fury. Ray holds his hands out to us, as if surrendering, “one at a time ladies, please!”
Katie starts without hesitation, “well, I was going down to flagpole a little earlier than usual today, when I suddenly heard a crash and a girl’s scream. It sounded like it was coming form the supply closet. I quickly ran in to see what had happened, and I came across these two,” she said, motioning to us.
Monica speaks up. “Well, I had been asked by a counselor to run down to the supply closet to get a mop for her cabin because she was a bandit counselor, you see, and she had to look after all of them. And, you know, I couldn’t just not help her when she had all these kids on her hands. One of her campers had an accident on the bathroom floor and she needed…”
“Wait,” Ray interrupts, “who exactly sent you down?”
“Oh, um, I don’t remember her name. She had brown hair and was wearing a blue shirt, I think,” Monica lied. “Anyways, I quickly ran down to grab one for her, because she sounded desperate. As I was in there looking for a mop, Liz over here decided it would be funny if she came up from behind and hit me with a novel the size of a loaf of bread and the weight of an anvil! As I was knocked unconscious, she then poured paint on me! And then…”
“Let’s go investigate down at the supply closet, shall we?” Ray interrupts.
“B-b-but what about my side of the story?” I protest.
“We’ll see…” says Ray, trailing off mysteriously.
Chapter 32
I pick at my now-overgrown nails, wondering what Ray could possibly have up his sleeve. As upset as I am about not getting to share my side of the story, I keep my mouth shut. Such an obvious injustice couldn't possibly be ignored. Monica's flat-out lie sounded pretty convincing, and I had almost been fooled myself. I'm sure there has to be some sort of hole in her story. Isn't that what happens in all family movies when the law gets involved? I think to myself.
After my multiple self-controlled attempts to not claw Monica's face open, we finally arrive at the scene of the crime. As I pry my gaze away from Monica's lying face, I can't help but wonder how worried she must feel. If going into the supply closet had a harsh enough punishment, lying to the director of camp must have a much more severe outcome.
Ray pushes the creaky, old, wooden door open with a creak. The mess had been left untouched since the incident, and nothing was different about it except for the blue paint splatters beginning to crustily dry on the floor.
"So, Monica..." begins Ray, "you said that Liz threw a book at you, and then poured paint on you as you said unconscious?"
"Exactly," says Monica.
Ray picks up Sara's heavy book and examines it carefully. "By the mark on this book..." he pauses, "it looks to me like paint had fallen on your head first, and then this book had fallen, or been thrown, at your head. Is that true?"
"It all happened so fast… I don't really remember. Maybe that could have happened instead?" Monica sputters.
Ray wanders around a little more and states, "it looks like you were the only one in the room at the time, actually. The only footprints I see are yours, and it is very likely that the falling objects were an accident."
I grin, thankful for the secret "passage" in back and reminding myself to not step in the paint when I thought Monica was dead.
"I-I..." Monica blubbers some more.
"Not only that, but there were no counselors wearing blue shirts today! They were all required to wear their yellow staff shirts for color wars later..." Ray then picks up the empty blue Tiffany's box. My grin widens.
"What's this?" he asks, reading the note attached to himself. "Was this your little hideout? For you and your little friend to meet?"
"What? No! You see-"
Ray cuts her off in fury. "You know something!? This was the whole reason we made the supply closet off-limits to campers! This is why! This perfect little hideout was hidden and within a perfect proximity to both the girl and boy cabins!! It's too dangerous!!"
Bingo, we hit a soft spot, I smile.
"Monica, you have a lot of explaining to do..." Ray huffs. "You're coming with me..." I sigh as I watch the tree of them stomp, slump, and skitter back to the main office.
I hear Katie tell Ray, "you've been watching too much Monk lately..."
A soft, firm, hand suddenly slips into my open palm. My heart flutters, knowing exactly whose it is.
Chapter 33
I turn to Zach and smile and he flashes back a crooked grin. How could I have been so stupid? I think to myself.
"Well, you managed to miss flagpole, breakfast, lunch, and basically half of color wars," he laughs. His soft chuckle makes my heart melt in a way that Jake couldn't accomplish if he appeared out of nowhere and begged for mercy. In fact, I don't think I would have felt anything at all if that happened. I squeeze Zach's hand harder.
"I suppose we could go up to the dining hall to see if they have any leftovers," I suggest.
"Sounds good to me," he says, and we walk up to the dining hall together, not letting go of each other's hand once. "So... what happened exactly?"
A smile breaks free of my lips. "Oh my gosh, it couldn't have been more perfect. Monica totally got busted for basically everything, and even some stuff she didn't do. But I don't really feel bad about that 'cause she totally deserved everything. I think Ray might even send her home before final banquet."
"So, are you in any trouble?"
"None, actually," I laugh.
For no apparent reason that I can see, his cheeks turn a shade of pink. "What?" I ask.
He pushes the door to the dining hall open with his palm, and a burst of heavily-scented air fills my nose and makes my stomach rumble. "Um, well, about final banquet... I know you wanted to go with Jake and all, and that's totally cool if you still do. I mean, 'cause Monica's probably not going to be going and I'm sure he'd be totally interested and all..."
"Are you saying that you don't want to go with me?" I exclaim, and then feel stupid for assuming that he wanted to go with me to begin with. But he's holding my hand, isn't he? "Well, I mean, well, I don't mean that, I just thought..."
He presses his forehead against mine. I can feel his warm, minty breath on my face. I stop breathing, thinking for a moment that me might...
"Just the opposite," he smiles and returns his focus to finding the perfect table to sit at in the large empty room. "I just wasn't sure if you still liked Jake," he says sheepishly.
"Definitely not!" I say a little bit louder than necessary.
"So would you like to go with me?"
"Of course!" I say, once again a little louder than I need to. He smiles that crooked grin and my heart stops (again).
We spend the next two hours talking and munching. After searching high and low, all we could find was hot chocolate and peanut butter with bread, but of course we could have cared less.
"Gosh, I fell head over heels when I first saw you," he confides in me between bites. "I thought that you were just the coolest person to talk to."
"Well, I wish I could say the same," I laugh.
He fakes a pout and makes me laugh hysterically for no reason that I know. I can only manage short gasps of sound and bury my face in my hands to cover my (probably) tomato-red face. I look over at Zach to see him laughing just as hard as I am. I bet Monica and Jake never shared a moment like this, I can't help but think.
Summer at Camp Winnihana~ A story by me! <3~ 5/9/10 Chapter 36 (it's about time!!) now added!! What will happen at the final banquet?! Find out! ~ 
Re: Summer at Camp Winnihana~ A story by me! <3~ Chapter 1~ 
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