by Jen Calonita
“You don’t have to say it.” I drop my beauty supplies in the cubby. I don’t have to look in the mirror to know how strange my hair must look half straightened, half frizzed, but I’d rather look ridiculous than face this crowd. “I’ll go wait on the porch.”
The fun doesn’t stop when we reach the mess hall almost fifteen minutes later than everyone else at camp. Everyone is already chowing down on pancakes and eggs. Hitch uses his megaphone to rub in our late arrival. “Bunks 10A and 10B have finally made it!”
I keep my head down as I walk, but I freeze when I hear Kyle’s voice. His bunk is giving us an extra hard time as we approach. Our two bunks grind to a halt in front of the boys’ table to whip up some comebacks. I catch Ethan’s eye. He still seems stony, even though he’s the one who humiliated me.
“Everyone knows what being late means,” Justin gloats. “Kitchen duty!”
“Double kitchen duty,” Heath reminds us. “You already have to clear our plates for losing the zip-line challenge.”
Kyle mouths something to me, but I’m not sure what he’s saying. Oh. “Three points.” Grr…
“I cannot wait to see you in a hairnet, Jeanie,” Ethan teases.
“I’m just glad you don’t own a camera, Ethan,” Jeanie says but actually laughs.
I watch them curiously and then stop when I realize my mutinous bunk is staring me down. I attempt a smile. 10B is hungry, so they walk away. My bunk stays put.
“Why were you guys late your first morning here?” Heath asks.
“Somebody used up the hot water and blew the circuit in the cabin.” Jeanie glares at me.
“All right, already!” I snap, having had enough of the jabs. They all look at me. “Would it help if I volunteered to do kitchen duty after breakfast all by myself?”
Lina grabs my arm. “Uh, Harper, you might not want to…”
Camilla and Jeanie look at each other. “I guess it is the least you could do after this morning,” Jeanie says. “As long as you know how to load a dishwasher.” I notice Ethan’s eyes on me. I look away.
I may be a princess, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what Cascade is. “Of course I know how to load a dishwasher.” It’s been over a year, but still. “I’ll take care of everything. It’s the least I can do after this morning’s ill-timed power outage.”
“I’ll help you,” Lina volunteers. I smile at her gratefully.
“If Lina’s on kitchen duty, then I am, too,” says Heath, who slides next to Lina. I notice Kyle’s frown. “We can suds up the dishes together,” he says smoothly.
“Thanks, but I can wash dishes on my own,” Lina says, missing his point.
“The whole bunk is on kitchen duty, anyway,” says Parker, a stocky guy who looks like he could lift me with one hand. “We did it out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“You guys don’t have hearts,” Trisha says, playing with her friendship bracelet. “If you did, you wouldn’t have planted that family of frogs in our cabin last season.”
“Hey, that was never proven,” Ethan reminds her.
“It had your name all over it,” Jeanie says, winding a curl around her finger.
“You talk a big game,” Ethan says. “Let’s see if you can bring it at Mud-a-Thon.”
The guys turn back to their table with their egos inflated while my bunkmates head to our table with barely a thank-you to me for my kitchen duty offer.
“Kitchen duty takes a while,” Courtney warns me on the way to the table. “You’ll probably miss second period.” She looks at Lina. “We’re playing dodgeball.”
“That’s okay,” Lina says with a shrug. “I’m zip-lining during free period and playing softball in the late afternoon. I can survive missing one dodgeball game.”
That’s really generous of Lina. When the infamous Bunsen burner episode happened at school last week, Kate was my lab partner and still refused to help me clean up. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Nope,” she says. “That’s what roomies are for.” I grin.
“Perfect. We’ll see you third period,” Courtney says and walks off to meet Sam.
This is the first time I’ve been in the mess hall since yesterday’s lunch. The room looks like the school cafeteria—if it were in a giant log cabin and had picnic tables with checkered tablecloths instead of tiny round tables. Everyone is eating family-style, which reminds me of the summer McDaddy took us to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and made us eat at this restaurant called Good ’N Plenty. The volume inside the room is so high that I have to resist the urge to plug my ears. The bunk is already eating when we get to our table. Maybe we should have moved faster. Most of the platters are empty! There is a sad little piece of egg left on one and half a piece of bacon on another. The only cereal choice left is Cocoa Pebbles. Never a personal fave. Asking how I can get a half a melon or an egg sunny-side up will probably result in the bunk telling me I expect to be catered to. Sigh. Lina takes the Cocoa Pebbles while I pick at a piece of dry toast.
A high-pitched sound makes me jump. Hitch is at the front of the room with a microphone replacing his megaphone. “Morning, Whispering Pines!” Everyone claps as if they haven’t heard that welcome a thousand times before. “How is day two treating you?” The cheers are so deafening, what’s left of the orange juice in the pitcher on our table shakes. “I’d like to thank Beaver for those amazing pancakes he made today. Let’s give it up for the big guy, shall we?” More applause. “Before I get to our regular morning announcements, I have something exciting to discuss. The Pines is entering a nationwide contest that could make all of us famous.” A hush falls over the room. I grab the squirt jelly and try to shake some out on my dry toast. “How would you feel about a Grammy-winning musician shooting her next music video at our camp?”
The sound that comes next is so deafening I squeeze the jelly too hard and it squirts all over my Chloé shirt. I grab a napkin and begin dabbing it with water, but it’s no use. I’ve just ruined a ninety-dollar T-shirt the first time I wore it.
“Settle down so I can explain,” Hitch says. Pam hands him an index card, and he reads off of it. “This star has written a song about summer loves, and apparently she met hers at a sleepaway camp, so she’s looking for one to use as a location for the shoot. She wants a camp with a woodsy feel, old-school cabins, a big lake, and large fields.”
“That’s the Pines, y’all!” Vickie whispers, and I notice a piece of cereal stuck in her braces.
Camilla grunts. “And probably every other sleepaway camp in America.”
Hitch continues to talk. “Most important, she wants a camp with spirit because all the campers would be video extras.” More squeals make my head throb.
“To enter, camps must submit an artistic piece—written, painted, video, or otherwise—that highlights camp life and camp spirit.” He makes a face. “The only problem is entries are due in three weeks. Do you think we can do it?” Kids start banging on the table with their forks, anything they can find. “Since time is of the essence, we will vote after breakfast on what type of entry to submit, and work will begin immediately. Those interested in participating can do so during their free periods and…”
“You still haven’t said who the musician is!” Ethan interrupts.
“Oh, right!” Hitch looks at Pam in confusion, and she whispers something in his ear. “Er, it’s London. London Blue? What kind of name is that?”
The last part is drowned out by the pandemonium. Our bunk is jumping up and down and screaming along with the rest of the mess hall. The plates on our table are jumping, and a few slide off the table, taking the remains of their breakfasts with them.
I’m going to have to clean that up.
“London Blue!” Lina’s gray eyes widen. She is holding my arm so tight, it hurts. “Oh my God! We have to win.”
“We will,” I say confidently. I wish I could tell Lina the truth, but she’s the first friend I’ve made here and I don’t want that to change because of who I know.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kyle. I know we’re both thinking the same thing. Neither of us is going to use our connection to London against the other. I breathe a sigh of relief.
Another plate hits the floor. “I’m going to start kitchen duty,” I say. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d choose cleanup over conversation. Another camp first.
“I’ll go with you.” Lina follows me out of the mess hall in a daze. It’s so chaotic I can’t breathe till we leave the London Blue zone.
“Wow, I think I’m going to be deaf for a week,” I say.
Lina laughs. “Well, you might be deaf longer than that after kitchen duty. Beaver loves to play loud music during cleanup.” She thinks for a moment. “And while he cooks. Basically all the time. His favorite is London. Wait till he hears what’s going on.”
We round the outside porch and stop in front of the kitchen doors. I can hear someone barking orders and boys talking over the sounds of pots clanging and table requests being shouted out. The music in the kitchen is blasting.
“Beaver?” I repeat.
“Yep,” Lina says. “He’s been the head cook here for years. He teaches all the cooking classes and loves to sing. He performed a U2 song in the talent show last year.” I laugh, and she makes a face. “There’s one thing you should know, though.”
A huge guy wearing a Harley-Davidson tank and a red bandana throws open the door and scares me half to death. “Cleanup crew?” he barks. We nod. “This isn’t social hour. Get in here!” He slams the door behind him, and a phone falls out of his pocket.
“He gets stressed out during cleanup before the next meal,” Lina says a little late. “He never has enough help, I guess. Otherwise he’s a total sweetheart. I swear!”
I pick up Beaver’s phone and stare at his retreating backside. “I guess we should give his phone back.” I begin to open the door and stop. “But first…”
Lina’s eyes widen. “Harper—nooo! Back away from the phone. You can do it! Harper? Harper, are you listening to me?”
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Send care package ASAP
Mom, might have mispacked a teensy bit. Seems you were right—there is less of a need for Chloé shirts and more of a need for Old Navy tees (don’t rub it in, okay?). Mailing some bags back. Can you send some tees ASAP? Also, may need a second pair of Converse.
Kyle is fine. He’s ignoring me. Might you consider keeping him here all year?
Will e-mail when I can. My phone has been confiscated. (Tell McDaddy thanks for mentioning that camp rule.)
XO, H
Harper McAllister @HarperMc
I’m back, twerps! I’ve got limited phone access (shh!) so stay tuned to find out how I’m surviving the summer. #summersecrets
8
MUD BATH, ANYONE?
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU USED Beaver’s phone!” Lina is freaking out as we emerge from the kitchen an hour and a half later. “If he caught you, you would have been banned from overnight camping trips, sent to solitary confinement, not allowed to—”
“I get it,” I interrupt. “Bad things would happen. Very bad things. Mwah-ha-ha!” Lina does not look amused. “I can’t believe you’re worried, Miss Extreme.”
“I like watching extreme sports,” Lina clarifies. “That doesn’t mean I go to the extreme myself, especially when it comes to breaking camp rules the first week we’re here. Someone is always watching at camp,” she warns. “I do not want you getting in trouble. You’re the only one I like in our bunk!”
“Same here,” I say, and we both laugh.
We’re on the way to the lake to meet Courtney and the others. By this point in the morning, camp is in full swing. A group of campers jog past us, singing a camp song as they go. On a nearby field, peeps are having a balloon fight and pez are playing a game of capture the flag. There’s something going on every hour of the day here, which is pretty cool. I especially like the Pines’s new policy this year that allows campers to switch activities every three days if they don’t like something. That means that karate class Lina convinced me to take with her when we picked electives yesterday will soon be history. I look over at Lina. She still seems jittery.
“Beaver will never know,” I reassure her. “I deleted his last few searches after I e-mailed my mom.” I kind of feel guilty about using his phone after getting to know the guy a little better. Once the kitchen rush ended, Beaver seemed fun (even if he does sing off-key).
“Hi, ladies!”
Lina and I freeze, kicking up pebbles with our slowdown on the rocky path.
Courtney walks toward us, her dark brown hair tucked under a funky tie-dyed head kerchief. I immediately start chewing my nails. Did Courtney just hear me?
“I’m glad I found you two,” Courtney says. “I’ll bring you to Mud-a-Thon.”
She silently leads the way down the path toward the lake. I notice there are lots of big rocks along the way, perfect for sitting on and staring out at the water. I’d prefer a view of the mall. Lina keeps looking at me out of the corner of her eye, and I try not to panic. Courtney would have said something by now if she heard me talking about Beaver’s phone. I think. I look up and stop short.
“Welcome to Mud-a-Thon,” Courtney says with a wave of her arm like she’s introducing the elephants at the circus.
Someone has taken a giant dirt field the size of a baseball diamond and sprayed it with water, making it a mushy mess. The boys’ bunks, 11A and B, are already there scoping out the setup. The smell of mud is overwhelming. No wonder Jeanie said there was no point in doing my hair.
I cover my mouth with my shirt. “What are we doing with that thing?”
“You’re going to get in it.” Courtney seems to enjoy my freaked-out reaction.
Lina jumps up and down excitedly. “Awesome! This is so much better than last year. We only got to dip our hands. It wasn’t messy enough.”
“Exactly,” Courtney agrees, and I look at them both like they are insane.
This is not good. I don’t want to embarrass myself two days in a row. “Do I have to participate? I’m a much better spectator when it comes to physical activities.” I think fast. “Plus, I’m allergic to mud.”
Courtney doesn’t buy it. “Harper, you do not want to be called Camping Barbie for the next four weeks, do you?”
I look down. I wore my white Converse this morning, having learned the hard way wedges were not a good idea, and there is already a grass stain on them. I’m going to have to burn everything I own when I go home. “No,” I admit. “I don’t.”
“Then show these guys you can handle a little mud!” Courtney nudges me hard.
“I thought mud was good for the skin,” Lina says. “Consider this a spa treatment.”
That’s a thought. I take a deep breath and stare at the mud pit again. Nope! “I can’t!” Courtney hangs her head. “I don’t want to be called Camping Barbie, but maybe I am one. I don’t do mud!” I freak out. “I sunbathe! I should be at a beach cabana right now ordering an iced tea from a cute waiter home from college. Not swimming in mud!” I look around the wilderness that is as foreign in nature to me as wearing a muumuu. “Instead I’m stuck here. And you’re telling me that if I want to fit in, I need to take a mud bath. I can’t do it!”
“You can do this,” Lina says firmly. “Don’t sell yourself short!”
“Show them you have what it takes to be a sleepaway girl!” Courtney agrees.
“A what?” I ask.
“A sleepaway girl,” Courtney explains. “That’s what Sam and I and our friends used to call ourselves when we were campers at the Pines. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re an outsider.” She leans on one of the nearby rocks. “The girls in our bunk were always at war with one another, and it’s exhausting! We needed to find a way to survive, and when we did, we grew to love this place more than we could have imagined. You don’t have to be BFFs with these girls, but you can show them
you can take whatever they throw your way. And you can start by doing the Mud-a-Thon.”
Lina nods encouragingly. “I’ll show you what to do.”
I hear yelling. Ethan has grabbed the hose and added more water to the mud pool. The sight makes me want to vomit. “I don’t know.”
“If you do this, I might be willing to help you out with something, too,” Court says.
I look at Lina, then back at Courtney. I’m curious. “Like what?” I take a seat on the rock next to her.
“I’ll tell you a secret.” Courtney leans forward. “If you stop by the counselors’ room in the bunk, you might notice that neither Sam nor I keep our phone out. We don’t want the campers to get it, of course. If a camper is caught with a staff member’s phone, we could get into huge trouble.”
My heart beats rapidly. Courtney knows I used Beaver’s phone.
“I hate that rule.” Courtney frowns. “I know how hard it can be detaching from what’s going on with home. Sometimes you just need to check in, you know?”
I know! I know! I try to resist chewing on my nails.
“To keep from getting in trouble, I hide my phone under my bunk mattress,” Courtney says. “Campers never think to look in a counselor’s bed, and I keep my phone charged there all day. That way I don’t lose it on a zip line or in a mud pit. Smart, huh?” Courtney looks at me steadily. Lina raises an eyebrow.
Courtney’s saying it is okay to use her phone as long as neither of us acknowledges it! And I don’t get caught. I’m so happy, I could hug her. But I don’t. She doesn’t seem very touchy-feely. “It’s a good thing no one knows that,” I say calmly.
“Yep.” Courtney almost cracks a smile. “Well, now that we’ve done some sharing, I’d say it’s time for Mud-a-Thon. If the girls don’t win, I’m going to have to listen to Cole gloat for weeks. Will you win this for me?”
The breeze sends the stench of mud my way. I wrinkle my nose. “I’ll try.”
