Willows vs. Wolverines

by Alison Cherry

  “I’m Rupali,” she says. “Everyone calls me Roo.”

  “I’ve never heard that name before,” I say. “It’s really pretty.”

  “Thanks. It’s Indian.” Roo flips her shiny black hair over her shoulder and gestures to the girls behind her. “That’s Lexi, and that’s Ava.”

  Ava looks me over, head to toe and back again, and then she yawns, which isn’t exactly a huge vote of confidence. Her hair and clothes are flawless, and so is her dark skin—she seems like the kind of person who has never had a pimple in her life. But Lexi shoots me a big smile, revealing a mouth full of braces. She’s wearing a T-shirt with a cartoon fox on it and a Camp Foxtail baseball cap, her blond ponytail pulled through the opening in the back.

  “Hey,” she says. “Nice to meet you! Your last name is Cervantes? That’s my cousin’s girlfriend’s last name. She’s from Mexico. Is that where your family’s from too? Maybe you’re related!”

  I laugh. “Probably not, it’s a really common name. But yeah, my dad’s parents are from there.”

  A few steps away, Valerie’s chatting with another girl wearing a ruffly pink outfit. The girl’s voice has this chirpy student-council tone to it, almost exactly like this girl in my class at school who spends recess color-coding her notes. She comes over and gives us a smile that looks practiced, like she rehearsed it in the mirror. “Hey, guys!”

  Roo turns her back to me, and I feel like I’ve been dismissed. “Hey, Summer. How’s it going?”

  “Great! It’s going to be an amazing month. Don’t you think, Hannah?” It’s only then that I realize there’s another girl behind her, sticking so close to Summer it’s like she’s trying to hide in her shadow. She’s twisting a piece of blond hair around her finger so tightly the tip is turning white. She gives a tiny nod, then lets out a wet sniffle, and I realize she’s crying.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “She’ll be fine,” Roo says. “She’s just a little homesick. Right, Hannah?” She reaches out and roughly pats Hannah twice on the shoulder, and Hannah flinches, then hiccups and nods. She’s holding her breath in an effort to stop crying, but I can’t tell if it’s because Roo has made her feel better or scared her into silence. Lexi slips an arm around her shoulders, and she starts breathing again.

  A lanky redhead has joined the group, and Ava goes over to hug her. “Where’s Juliet?” I hear her ask.

  “She’s not coming this year. Her family moved to Minneapolis.”

  “Oh nooooo,” Lexi says. “I was counting on her to do the karaoke competition with us!”

  The rest of the Willows have gathered around Valerie now, and she gestures for us to follow her toward the flagpole end of the field. A short Asian girl falls into step beside me. “Hey,” she says. “You’re new, right?”

  I’m starting to feel like I should get that printed on a T-shirt or something: I’M IZZY, AND I’M NEW! But she actually seems interested in talking to me, so I introduce myself, and she tells me her name is Mei. “You’re going to love Camp Foxtail,” she says. “It’s the best. I’ve been coming here since I was eight. Did you meet everyone?”

  “Not everyone.” I point out the girls whose names I don’t know—the redhead, and two girls with matching sneakers and tons of beaded bracelets up their wrists. I can tell they’re best friends by the way they lean toward each other even when they’re talking to other people.

  “The one with the red hair is Petra,” Mei says. “She’s a supertalented horseback rider—she wins competitions and stuff. And those two are BaileyAndHope.” The way she says it like it’s one word makes me miss Mackenzie so much it hurts.

  “What’s up with that girl?” I tip my head toward Hannah, who’s still sniffling as she drags her pink wheeled suitcase across the grass.

  “Oh, she’s fine. She always spends all of camp saying she’s homesick and wants to leave, but then she comes back every year anyway.”

  “Why doesn’t she stay home if she doesn’t like camp?”

  Mei shrugs. “No idea. She’s sweet when she’s not crying, though.”

  Up ahead, Summer says something to Petra, who lets out a loud, bubbly laugh. “So, the rest of you guys know each other already?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Pretty much all of us have been coming here since third grade. Not BaileyAndHope, I think they came when we were ten. Are you going into eighth grade?”

  “Seventh,” I say.

  “Huh, weird. Most of the seventh-graders are in Maple. I wonder why they put you with us? I guess it’s because Juliet’s not here.”

  Mei doesn’t say it meanly or anything, but now I feel more out of place than I already did. I bet everyone here would rather have Juliet than me. “My best friend’s in Maple,” I say. “Do they ever let people switch cabins? Not that I don’t want to be with you guys. But if I went to the camp director’s office and explained the situation, do you think maybe they’d move her into Willow?”

  Mei shakes her head. “People try that every year, but it never works.”

  Man, getting this fixed would be so easy if we were at Camp Sweetwater. “Are you sure?” I ask. “Should I talk to Valerie, maybe?”

  “You can try, but trust me, Val’s going to say no. There’s only room for ten people per cabin, so you’d have to kick someone out, and that wouldn’t be fair.”

  I guess that makes sense, but I’m not looking forward to telling Mackenzie. She’s going to be devastated. I cross my fingers that she’ll make some new friends right away and decide Maple isn’t so bad.

  Willow Lodge is a weathered brown cabin with peeling green paint on the screen door. Mei holds it open for me, and I squeeze through the doorway with all my stuff. The cabin smells musty, but aside from a few cobwebs high up in the exposed beams of the ceiling, it looks surprisingly clean. Five sets of bunk beds and one single bed are pushed up against the walls, which are made of wooden planks that don’t quite match the wide floorboards. There’s a bathroom in the back, and next to it is a little screened-in porch that looks out onto a dirt trail through the woods.

  We’ve been inside all of ten seconds before an argument breaks out in front of the bunk beds on the left side of the cabin, near the biggest window. “But you said I could bunk with you this year!” Lexi whines.

  “I said maybe.” Roo sounds very patient, like this isn’t the first time they’ve had this discussion. “I sleep better when I bunk with Ava. She doesn’t snore.”

  “I don’t snore!”

  “No offense, Lexi, but you kind of do,” Summer says.

  “I don’t! And even if I did, you’d still be able to hear me four feet away.”

  “Bunk with Petra,” Roo says as Ava starts unloading her clothes into the dresser. “She wouldn’t wake up if you punched her in the face.”

  “It’s true,” Petra says like it’s a point of pride. “My little brother tried it once.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Lexi drags her bag across the floor.

  BaileyAndHope are whispering to each other as they spread out their stuff on the bunks at the back of the room, and a stab of panic shoots through me as I realize almost everyone has paired off. I’ve never had to think about who my bunkmate would be before, and now I’m in danger of getting stuck with sniffly Hannah.

  “Hey,” I say to Mei. “Do you want to bunk with me?”

  “Sure,” she says, to my relief. “Do you want the top or the bottom? Either one’s fine with me.”

  “I’ll take the top, if that’s okay,” I say. “Thanks.” I wonder who Mackenzie’s bunking with. I hope she found someone who let her have the bottom. She’s afraid of falling from the top—she flails her arms and legs around so much in her sleep that my mom calls her the Octopus—but I’m sure she was too embarrassed to tell that to a total stranger. I should probably go over to her cabin later and make sure she’s not going to get hurt.

  “Hey, guys, gather around for a second!” Val shouts, and everyone goes quiet and moves toward her. “First of all, welcome
to Willow Lodge! Almost all of you took sailing with me last year, but I’m so excited to be your counselor this time around and get to know you better. Does everyone have a bunkmate? Who’s with Hannah?”

  “Hannah, come bunk with me,” Summer calls. I try to find an edge of annoyance in her voice, but she sounds totally willing to share with the resident weeper. I wonder if she’s genuinely okay with it or if she’s just trying to get credit for being nice.

  “Great,” Val says. She looks around and smiles at each of us. “This is such an awesome group, you guys. I definitely got the very best cabin in the camp.”

  I’m sure every other counselor is saying the same exact thing to their own cabins right now, but Val sounds so genuine that it makes me feel like this really is the best cabin. A little blossom of Willow pride opens in my chest, followed immediately by a twinge of discomfort that I’m being unfaithful to Camp Sweetwater.

  “And we’re also the luckiest cabin,” Val continues, “because we have Camp Foxtail’s very own official photographer!”

  Everyone cheers, and Roo takes a big, showy bow. “She has a super fancy camera,” Mei whispers to me. “She takes really amazing pictures all summer, and the camp director puts them all in this big slide show on the last day. Being in her cabin is basically like being a celebrity. But don’t get on her bad side. Last year there was a picture in the slideshow of Sophia Waldron from Poplar with her finger up her nose.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper back, and then I shoot Roo a big smile. It sounds like she could make or break my reputation here.

  “So, first order of business,” Val says. “The Willow cheer. Most of you have heard it a million times during your last few summers at camp, so you’ve probably picked it up. Do it with me if you remember it, and everyone else follow along the best you can. Ready?”

  Everyone but me raises their hands into the air and starts to chant.

  “Willows, willows, sweep the ground, with a gentle rustling sound!

  Prettiest of all the trees, tendrils dancing in the breeze!

  We hide mysteries in our boughs, secret loves and private vows!

  Don’t believe us? Think we’re nuts? We will kick your leafy butts!”

  There are hand motions that go with the cheer, and at first I try to follow along. But I’m always a beat behind, and it makes me feel stupider than if I were standing still. After a minute I stop trying.

  The rest of the girls clap and whoop when they’re finished, and Val beams at us. “Excellent. You’ve got half an hour to get settled now, and then we’re going to head down to the lake for your swim test. Dinner is at six, and then we’ll have our opening night treasure hunt! But it’s not all fun and games; I also need you guys to start thinking about something very important.”

  She gestures for us to come closer, and we all lean in. Her freckled face has gone deadly serious, and I wonder if she’s going to give us a lecture about water safety or bullying or something. But then she says the very last thing I expect to hear.

  “We need to start planning our first prank on the Wolverines.”

  Everyone starts talking at once, and my heart leaps. If the skill I was known for at Camp Sweetwater is very important here, I shouldn’t have a hard time fitting in at Camp Foxtail at all. As soon as the Willows see how good I am at this, they’ll accept me as one of them—probably as one of their leaders—and camp can go back to being the way it’s always been.

  But I don’t have time to ask any questions before Val raises her hand for silence. “The Willows’ prank war with the Wolverines is a sacred and time-honored tradition,” she says, like it’s the beginning of a fairy tale. “Way back in 1990, before any of us were born, a pair of twins named Scarlett and Daniel Paddington came to Camp Foxtail. They had spent their whole lives pranking each other—they were probably doing it in the womb—and they were both masters at it. Daniel lived in Wolverine that summer, and Scarlett was a Willow, and they got their whole cabins involved in their rivalry and pulled the most spectacular pranks the world had ever seen.”

  “One of the pranks involved a blimp, right?” says Lexi.

  “And Scarlett released five hundred toads inside the Wolverines’ cabin,” Summer adds.

  “Where would you get five hundred toads?” asks Mei.

  “The lake,” Lexi says. “Duh.”

  “The old pranks aren’t important,” Val says. “What’s important is that even though the Paddington twins are too old to be Foxes now, the rivalry continues to this very day. I’m sorry to say that the Wolverines bested the Willows last year. But now that you ladies are here, they don’t have a chance, do they?”

  Everyone cheers, and I do too. I know 1990 isn’t exactly historical, but I still get tingles up my spine when I think about participating in something so much bigger than myself. If this is the focus of our cabin, the summer’s going to be way better than I expected.

  “I can definitely come up with some ideas,” I say. “My best friend Mackenzie and I did all kinds of great pranks at our old camp. There was this one with a ceiling fan and raw hamburger meat and—”

  Lexi starts talking right over me. “I was thinking we could steal all the boys’ underwear and run it up the flagpole,” she says. “It would be so hilarious.”

  “Or we could hide an alarm clock somewhere in their cabin and set it for three in the morning, and everyone will go crazy looking for it,” says Roo.

  Those are the oldest, most boring pranks in the world—I don’t believe these girls think they’ll be good enough to win a sacred, time-honored prank war. “That’s exactly the sort of stuff they’ll expect, though, right?” I say. “We need to do something really creative. But don’t worry, I have a ton of experience with this. Last year at my old camp—”

  Roo cuts me off. “No offense, Izzy, but this isn’t your old camp, and you don’t know how anything works around here.”

  “I know, but pranks are kind of the same everywhere, right? Maybe we could—”

  “I’m sure we can find a way for you to participate, even though you’re new,” says Lexi. “Is there anything you’re especially good at? Like climbing flagpoles or spying or picking locks or anything?”

  And just like that, my excitement rolls over and plays dead. I’m probably better at pranking than all these girls put together, and they’re writing me off before they see what I can do.

  I realize that if I really want them to respect me and accept me as one of them—and I do, I so do—I’m going to have to distinguish myself by doing something really incredible. Should I go rogue and pull an amazing prank on the Wolverines all by myself? Should I prank the girls in my own cabin to prove how sneaky and creative I am?

  Or . . . maybe it’s a lot simpler than that. Maybe all I need to do is make the Willows believe I’m already one of them, that I have roots at Camp Foxtail, too.

  I think about that boy I saw comforting his little sister earlier, and the spark of an idea ignites in my brain. Before I have time to consider whether it’s stupid or not, I square my shoulders and look Lexi right in the eyes.

  “I can do better than that,” I say. “My older brother used to be a Wolverine. He was the most amazing prankster since the Paddington twins, and he taught me everything he knows.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The change is instantaneous. A second ago I was just the anonymous new girl. But now the Willows look intrigued, like I might have value to them. At Camp Sweetwater someone would’ve called me out immediately and said, “What are you talking about? Your brother is four.” But nobody knows me here. And that means I can be whoever I want.

  Val is looking at me like I’ve handed her a puppy wearing a diamond collar. “Seriously?” she says. “Oh man, Izzy, that’s such fantastic news.” She sounds so sincerely happy that I almost feel bad for misleading her. But it’s so great to have someone look at me like I belong here that it’s easy to push those guilty feelings aside. Once I show Val and the Willows what an amazing addition I am to this grou
p, it won’t matter that I started out by telling a harmless white lie. They’ll probably never have to know.

  “Wow,” Mei says. “We’re so lucky you’re in our cabin. You would’ve been totally wasted in Maple.”

  Lexi scoots closer to me. “This is seriously the greatest! Don’t you think, Roo?”

  “Yeah, definitely,” Roo says, but her expression doesn’t match her words. It’s like she suddenly sees me as a threat, now that I’ve proven myself to be more interesting than she expected.

  I remember what Mei said about being on Roo’s bad side, and I backpedal a little. “I’m sure you guys have some great ideas too,” I say. It’s not like I have to be in charge right away. I’m willing to work up to it.

  “What’s your big brother’s name?” Lexi asks. “My brother’s sixteen. Ben Silverman. Do you think maybe they knew each other?”

  “My brother’s name is Tomás,” I say, which is actually true. “He’s much older, though; he turned twenty in May. I don’t think he would’ve known your brother. His last summer here was, um . . .” I quickly do the math—this camp only goes up to age fourteen, and I need to make sure my fictional big brother wouldn’t have overlapped with any of the girls. “. . . six years ago, I think.”

  Lexi looks disappointed. “Aw, too bad.”

  “I think I might remember a Tomás Cervantes,” Val says, and although there’s no way she possibly could, part of me thrills that she thinks there’s a connection between us. “He’s only a little younger than me. There was this one time all the Willows woke up with these huge dead fish in their beds. Was that him?”

  “Yeah! He tested that one on my parents. You should’ve heard my mom scream. She woke up the whole neighborhood.”

  “Where did he get the fish?” Ava asks. It’s the first time she’s spoken to me, and it feels like a small victory.