by Beth Vrabel
Signing off,
SSCPB
P.S. If someone says she just not into you that way, BELIEVE HER.
“Definitely a girl,” Sheldon said later that night during screen time.
“Definitely.” Amanda and Sheldon shared one station at the lab, heads tilted toward each other as they watched the screen. Sheldon operated the keyboard, Amanda the mouse. She clicked off the Camp Paleo homepage and Sheldon typed in the address for a trilobite message board.
“Wait!” Sheldon snapped. “This guy says his trilobite is better than ours because it’s bigger. But ours is intact. Aargh! Them’s fighting words!”
“Kumbaya. He just doesn’t know, Shel.” Amanda twirled something hanging from her neck.
I leaned in for a better look and screamed. “Amanda! There’s something on you!”
“Oh, this?” She held up her trilobite necklace. “Sheldon made it. He threaded the string right through the eye socket hole.”
Sheldon, looking up from the message board, said, “American Indians used to make fossil amulets all the time.”
I threw up a little in my mouth as they stared into each other’s eyes.
My computer pinged with an incoming Skype call. I sucked in my breath, deciding if I wanted to answer Sam’s call. He’d be so mad about me lying to Jer about April. But, just as quick, I was the angry one. If he had been here like he had promised, none of this—none!—would’ve happened. We’d be having the best summer ever, just like I had planned.
So I took the call. “Hey, Sam.”
“Hey!” He smiled hugely, taking me by surprise. For most of the time I’ve known Sam, his smiles are super slow, starting in his eyes and then sometimes getting to his lips, but not always.
“Why are you so happy?”
His smile faltered a little then, going back to its usual size. “No reason. Just had a good day. How about you? How’s living like a caveman?”
I shrugged, having a hard time meeting his eyes. “It’s all right.”
“What’s going on, Lucy?”
“Hey, Sam!” Sheldon and Amanda leaned into my screen. Then the two of them left the computer lab.
Sam’s mouth dropped open and he suddenly looked a little pale. “Are they—were they holding hands?”
I nodded. “You just met Shemanda.” Then I filled Sam in on how Amanda saved the trilobite.
“And stole Sheldon’s heart. Wow.” Sam shook his head. “I never would’ve thought. Sheldon and April, maybe …”
“I know!” I thumped the desk. “Exactly!”
“I guess that means you and April have been hanging out a lot.” I could tell Sam was fishing, trying to figure out why I was acting distant. And, all right, maybe he was making sure I was okay—that all of our friends were okay.
“Nope.” I shifted in my seat. “Her parents got her a laptop before camp started, so she’s at a table in the back of the room.”
“I didn’t mean now, like literally during screen time. I mean all the time,” Sam said.
“Look, we only have another minute of screen time and I’ve still got to email my mom and dad, so …”
“Lucy?”
“Bye, Sam.” Click.
I read an email from Mom and Dad, which included a picture of Molly sitting up all by herself, and started to write back. But I ended up just writing, MISS YOU.
I wrote to SSCPB instead.
Dear SSCPB:
Is it ever okay to lie? What if you’re doing it to help your friends?
Please answer,
PaleoLoneWolf
I hit send and then reopened the email from home and stared at the picture of Molly. I swear, my baby sister’s arms looked like rows of squishy marshmallows. Her legs were just a blur in the picture, so I knew she was kicking them back and forth the way she does when she gets excited. Her smile was shiny with drool. Babies are a mess. But somehow Molly pulled it off, looking adorable anyway. I could see my dad’s arm stretched out behind her, ready to catch her when she flopped backward.
“Is that your sister?” Megan asked from the station on my left. I nodded and watched Megan’s face as she looked at the picture. Three, two, one …
Right on cue, Megan said, “Is she—does she have—”
“Down syndrome?” I finished for her. “Yeah.”
Megan nodded.
Countdown to when she starts naming all the people she knows with Down syndrome in three, two, one …
But Megan surprised me. “She’s cute. I don’t have any sisters. That I know, of anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m adopted.” She twisted her bracelet, then held up her wrist. “Mom gave me this bracelet when she told me, not that it was a huge surprise. I mean, I’m Korean and she’s blonde. But she says it’s something to always remember that she chose to spend her life being my mom.”
“That’s really nice,” I said. Then I felt kind of dumb. I mean, here she was telling me about her adoption and all I had to say was “that’s nice.” I guess that’s why so many people say the same stupid things when they find out about Molly’s Down syndrome. They just don’t know what to say. “Is it silver? Your bracelet, I mean.”
Megan nodded. “Jessica said she saw something like it online from Tiffany’s.”
Mr. Bosserman’s giant stopwatch blared. I closed the picture of Molly and shut down the computer. “Sorry again about Jer.”
“No biggie. I didn’t really know him or anything,” Megan said. “I’ve moved on, anyway.” Megan swirled in her seat so she was facing Ash, and her eyes got all misty again. Aha.
Chapter Eleven
The next day of Camp Paleo was dedicated to torture, although the counselors kept referring to it as “Field Day.”
So far, we had endured volleyball and kickball.
Crazily enough, a lot of these campers actually seemed to be enjoying it. I have to admit, I did laugh every time I saw Jer showing off for April.
Jer kept trying to give April tips on how to kick the ball. “Thanks, Jer, but I’ve got this,” she finally said. “I just have to stretch a little.” Then she did about ten lightning-fast roundhouse kicks, stopping a couple inches from the side of his head.
“Yeah,” he said. “You’ve got this.”
I checked out during kickball. I sort of missed the ball entirely on my first time up to kick and fell on my tailbone. Hard. (Honesty alert: Maybe not quite as hard as I made it seem. But I did get out of kickball.) Jessica walked me to the most magnificent air-conditioned oasis from Field Day torture: the eMagine nurse’s office. I sat with an ice pack on my bum for a half hour. Nurse Gabby didn’t seem to enjoy the company. She snapped the pages of her romance novel with way more force than necessary. As soon as thirty minutes passed, she radioed Mr. Bosserman.
“Scoot on out of here,” Nurse Gabby said, not looking up from the pages of her book. “Mr. Bosserman says you’re just in time for dodgeball.”
Awesome.
The camp had been divided in half at the dodgeball field. Jer quickly took control of the ball and nailed every player, starting with me. I wasn’t even mad, not after seeing the shot Sheldon took to the head right after my leg shot. The other shooters on Jer’s team always tossed him the ball. Soon it was down to two players: Jer and April. Somehow he missed her. April was getting a scary intense look on her face, the one I normally only saw during tae kwon do practice. “Come on!” she taunted. “Try and get me!”
Jer grinned and threw the ball, hard. I thought April was done for! But no! She caught it and without even a second’s hesitation hurled it back at Jer, nailing him in the stomach.
For a second, I thought Operation Dorks in Love, Phase Two was doomed. No way would he want to be April’s boyfriend after she beat him like that, but again I was wrong. Jer stumbled by me, bent to hold his knees as he took a few deep breaths, and said, “She is wicked cool.”
I laughed. If only he knew the real April …
Next up was archery,
and I fought down a little spark inside. This could be it!
I sort of have a theory. I suppose it’s a hunch really, since theories are supported by facts and this isn’t supported by anything but hope. But I believe I’m really awesome at something. Like, so awesome I’ll be interviewed by reporters and maybe even get a book deal. So incredible other people will stop what they’re doing just to watch me do that thing. They’ll all ask, “Lucy! Lucy! What’s your secret?” And I’ll just smile and shrug. “Just a natural talent,” I’ll say. I can feel it, this awesomeness deep inside of me, waiting to be tapped.
I just don’t know what that awesome thing is yet. So anytime I try something new, I think maybe this is it. Maybe this is the thing I’m awesome at doing.
So far, I can cross off tae kwon do and any of the sports we do in gym class. It’s not gymnastics, since Sam once tried to teach me how to do a cartwheel and I ended up cracking a barrette against my skull. It’s not kickball, obviously, or dodgeball. I’m great at walking while chewing gum but I haven’t really shared that with many people. (It’s a seriously underrated skill, if you ask me.)
Mr. Bosserman and the other camp counselors divided us into groups of four and showed us the basics, like how to hold the bow.
Sheldon, Amanda, and Megan were in my group. “April!” I called out. “Why don’t you join us?”
Kira strutted up and linked her arm in April’s. They had styled their hair the same—again! This time pigtails. “Remember you said you’d be my partner?” she asked April, and led her over to an empty space.
“This is your chance,” I hissed to Jer, who bounced next to me, super excited to try out archery.
“What?” he asked, not looking up from the arrows and bows spread out in front of us. I guess he had the same awesome-inside feeling, too. But judging how he already was incredible at every sport he tried, I thought that was being a little selfish of him.
“Go!” I jerked my chin toward April. “Get in her group.”
“Who? Oh, yeah!” he said and headed in April’s direction. I sighed, wondering why I go to so much trouble for people who clearly do not appreciate me. Soon he was just behind her, laughing too loudly at something she said.
A little squeak behind me reminded me of Megan’s new crush. Ash was headed toward April’s group, too. No! I couldn’t let that happen. “Ash!” I called, waving my arms wildly. “Over here! Over here!”
“But we already have four,” Sheldon pointed out.
Amanda counted us all again. “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as Ash joined us. “It’s not like we have an even number of people in camp.”
“Yes, we do,” Ash said. “There are twenty all together.”
“Well, Sheldon and Amanda count as one lately. I’ve already started thinking of them as Shemanda.”
Our counselor—the one with whom Jessica had been spending all week flirting with—didn’t agree. “You!” he snapped. “Head over to Mr. Bosserman’s group.”
Any guesses which one of us he pointed to? Mr. Bosserman sighed as I approached. Then he went down to the target and scooted it down a few feet away from the other campers, shaking his head and muttering about “fool-headed kids” the whole time.
Mr. Bosserman demonstrated how to use the bow and then we all lined up in long rows, facing the haystacks with targets pinned on the front. Mr. Bosserman counted down, then swoosh! Our arrows were set free! I kept my eyes squeezed shut, wanting them to burst open to a display of awesomeness.
“Wow!” Someone in my group said.
“Way to go!” Someone else cheered.
I opened my eyes, certain the arrow had flown right into the red center circle. But nope, no arrow. Where did it go? Maybe it flew so hard it went right through the haystack! And then I saw it, hanging limply from the side of the haystack, not even near the widest circle on the target. I sighed and slumped forward to collect it when Mr. Bosserman gave the okay.
“What’s with cheering for me when I totally suck at this?” I snapped at the kid behind me.
His face twisted. “What are you talking about?”
“Yeah.” The girl waiting behind him laughed. “We weren’t cheering for you. We were cheering for April.”
Sure enough, April stood two stations down from me with the bow in place. She shot arrow after arrow straight into the bulls-eye. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
How did she get to be awesome at tae kwon do and archery! This was so not fair!
Kira bumped April’s shoulder as she got another arrow from the pile beside her. Facing me, Kira said, loud enough for the whole camp to hear, “Check out jealousy over there!” And everyone turned toward me. April gave a little half wave, not in a mean way, either. Just a wave.
“Good job, April!” I called, but it sounded fake, even to me.
Come on, Lucy! I told myself. We can do this. We can show them! I got another arrow and loaded it, sure that this time the awesome would shine through and Kira would have to shut her stupid mouth. I closed my eyes and let it fly. I didn’t even look again, just loaded another like April.
“Hey!” a kid at the station beside me snapped. “Stick to your own target!”
“What?” I turned toward him, arrow still in the bow.
He screamed and hit the ground with a thud, just like everyone behind him. “Crazy freak!” he yelled.
I thrust the bow at Mr. Bosserman. “I’m done with this.”
“You didn’t really give it much of a shot,” he pointed out. “I think it takes more than two tries for someone to learn this, onest.”
“Not everyone,” I said, watching April nail another arrow to the haystack.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, I woke up with half my body out of the sleeping bag and still covered in sweat. No breeze, just a blanket of damp, hot air suffocating me. And the sun wasn’t even up yet.
“Wake up, sleepyheads!” Jessica chirped. “It’s our day to make breakfast!”
A few minutes later, April and I stood behind the grill with huge spatulas, pushing the “eggs” Amanda poured onto the surface from a jug.
Megan took forever in the bathroom. When she finally joined us, I saw tear tracks down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Megan held up her wrist. “My bracelet! It’s gone.” She hiccupped. “I put it in my bathroom bag before Field Day yesterday so it wouldn’t get knocked around or snagged during the games. I went to put it back on after my shower. But it’s not in my bag! I looked everywhere.”
“Maybe it’s off somewhere with my designer makeup bag,” Kira said from her perch on a nearby picnic table.
“Anything else missing?” April asked.
Megan shook her head.
Jessica put her arm around Megan and squeezed. In her relentlessly cheery way, she said, “Maybe it fell out of the bag on the way to the bathroom. I bet it’ll turn up.”
“You said the same thing about my makeup bag. It hasn’t yet,” Kira pointed out. Megan hiccupped again.
Jessica told Megan that getting busy would help her forget about the bracelet, so she stationed her behind an enormous vat of hot cocoa. Megan stirred it with a huge spoon. I guess we had run out of watery OJ.
“Could you maybe help out?” I asked Kira.
She yawned and stretched her arms. Super slowly, she started stacking napkins and plates. “Happy?” she asked, then skipped off to the farthest picnic table.
“How can you put up with her?” I asked April, shoving a spatula full of eggs across the grill. A glob of powder broke apart. They turned kind of greenish for a second while they cooked.
April shrugged. “She’s not all bad. She can be kind of funny.”
“She’s a Becky.” I shuddered, thinking of my former best friend, the one who would only be nice to me in secret. And even then, she was horrible.
“No, she isn’t.” April shoved the eggs back toward me. “Everything Becky did was to make other people l
ike her. Kira doesn’t care who likes her.”
“What’s with you lately?” I snapped, pushing the eggs back. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”
April glared at the eggs and didn’t answer, so I kept talking. “Do you even care about us anymore? I mean, you let her talk about me. You spend more time with Ash than you do with us. You were too busy showing off during Field Day to even notice I had gotten hurt.”
April sighed and slammed down her spatula, splattering me with egg juice. “All you do is whine. Everything is Lucy, Lucy, Lucy!” She picked up the spatula and jabbed me with it, her eyes wild. “When was the last time you did anything for me? When are you—any of you!—there for me?”
“Listen, chicas, how about we all meditate a bit before we continue here?” Amanda said, pouring another jug of eggs onto the grill. She hummed kumbaya.
“What are you talking about?” I jabbed April back with my spatula, sending a few egg globs onto the ground.
April threw down her spatula, which landed with a thud in the dirt. “I’m talking about me. I want something of mine. Not to be just a backup member of your stupid little pack.” She stomped off.
“Stupid?” I screamed at her back. “It wasn’t so stupid when we were the only friends you had!”
April turned and rushed me, and I remembered for a knee-knocking moment that she is a totally kick-butt martial artist. She got so close I could see the sweat glistening on her forehead. “You are just as bad as Kira. Maybe worse! At least Kira doesn’t try to control her friends. If I start talking differently or wearing my hair differently, she doesn’t care.”
“Yeah, because you talk like her. You wear your hair like her.” I held up my spatula like a shield. Behind me, I heard Megan squeak-cry when I stepped back onto her toe.
“I told you she was just jealous of you.” Kira stood behind April, her hip leaning against the picnic table like she was bored out of her mind. Then she turned and walked off.
April stared at me a second before following Kira.
“Maybe you don’t know this,” Megan said, extra quietly behind me, “since you normally sleep in to the last minute every morning. But April’s up first. She does her hair first. Kira is trying to be like April, not the other way around.”
