by Jen Calonita
“You do not want the powdered ones, either,” Ethan says to me. “They’re nasty.”
I walk over to the giant fridge in the back of the room and open it up. It’s got a lot of labeled containers and premade food, but not a lot of supplies for breakfast. Then I spot the butter and the dozen or so loaves of bread calling my name. I grab one and show it to the others. “How about french toast?”
Beaver looks doubtful. “That’s just like pancakes.”
I’m insulted. “Not when I’m making it. I’ll show you.” I point to Ethan. “Fire up a griddle on the stove.”
He salutes. “Aye-aye, captain!”
I take the large butter and a dozen eggs out of the fridge. The two of them watch as I add a little milk and an egg to a bowl and some cinnamon and then vanilla. I whisk it all together, then let it sit for a second as I add butter to the hot griddle and watch it sizzle.
“You actually know what you’re doing over there,” Ethan says, watching me.
I dunk a piece of toast in the mixture and then place it on the griddle. Then I add several more while Beaver goes to find more bread. “Before we moved, my dad and I used to cook breakfast every Sunday. I can make a mean batch of s’mores brownies, too.”
“S’mores brownies?” Ethan asks. “That sounds like it has my chocolate chipper peanut butter cookies beat.” I stop flipping with my spatula in midair. “Yes, I’m a boy who can bake.” He smirks. “But don’t tell anyone. I keep it on the down low.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I say.
“Wow, that smells killer!” Kyle says as he walks back into the kitchen with the others. Even I have to admit the aroma is amazing. I love the smell of melted butter. He takes a piece from the pile and bites into it before Beaver can stop him. “Oh man, I forgot how good your french toast is. She can make awesome crepes, too,” Kyle tells the others.
Curiosity gets the better of Ethan. He grabs a piece and splits it in half with Beaver. Lina takes a slice and splits it with Kyle, Dirk, Justin, and Heath. Everyone murmurs how good it is as I continue to flip, then add more french toast and butter to the pan.
“I’m glad you signed up for my cooking class,” Beaver says. “You’ve got some skill. We can work with that.”
“I think you might have found your camp calling,” Justin says with his mouth full. Ethan winks at me.
I don’t say anything, but I can’t help but smile. Justin might be right.
Harper McAllister @HarperMc
Show the camp you can cook killer french toast and watch them beg for more! #survivingthesummer
11
GOTCHA!
I TOSS AND TURN IN my bunk bed. It doesn’t help that the mattress is springy and nothing like my memory foam one at home. Or that I’m sharing a room with seven other girls, some of whom snore and drool (like Jeanie). Even with a sleep mask, it takes forever for me to nod off, and when I finally do, I dream about the beach cabana. In the dream, I’m sipping a frozen smoothie and Margo is sitting next to me reading Us Weekly. A waiter walks by with a menu, and I notice he looks just like Ethan. Kate appears out of nowhere and whispers in his ear. Then she morphs into Jeanie, which is even stranger, but the worst part is when Ethan throws a slushy at me. I hear myself scream.
Wait, was that my scream?
There it is again!
I feel like I’m in a fog—half dream, half reality—and it takes me a second to realize I am not the one screaming. It’s Addison.
“Eww! It’s in my hair!” I think Camilla says. “They put it in my hair!”
“Mine too!” Trisha yells while Vickie cries. “Sam! SAM! We’ve been hit!”
That sounds like Trisha, but I don’t care enough to find out. Maybe if I keep my eyes closed I’ll fall back to sleep, but I keep hearing more voices.
“They put peanut butter on the floor!” Melody freaks. “Don’t run or—” BOOM!
“Oh my God, are you okay? Melody, is that strawberry syrup in your hair?” Camilla’s voice again. “Eww… what smells so funny?”
Part of me is annoyed about all this commotion. I want to get back to that dream and yell at Ethan about that slushy and… wait. Why do I feel wet?
My eyes shoot open. Where did my canopy go? Why am I sticky? I look down at my comforter and am amazed at the swirl of new colors decorating it. A river of what looks like honey, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream is oozing everywhere. It covers my sheets, and there is some in my hair. I look over the railing and sob when I see what has become of my Louis trunk. It’s got peanut butter on the lid. Is that going to come off?
Without the canopy on my bed, I can see everyone’s bunks perfectly. The view is not pretty. Someone has toilet papered the cabin, and streamers hang from every bed and rafter. Some have fallen to the ground and are sticking to the gooey mess on the floor. Camilla looks like a tree with leaves stuck in her hair and chocolate syrup oozing down her Whispering Pines Color War tee that refers to the previous summer. Trisha is flipping out that someone put camouflage tape all over her pink lacrosse stick. Camilla is crying about her ruined Hello Kitty bed sheets, which look like a sundae gone wrong. Jeanie’s red hair is sticking up as if she were the Bride of Frankenstein. Vickie’s been moussed, and her face has some sort of white powder on it. Whoever did this is good. I wonder how they managed to do this without anyone hearing them.
I hear whimpering and look down. “Lina?” I call and don’t get an answer. I pull myself out of my bed, trying not to freak out at the feeling of my legs touching the cold syrup. I throw my feet over the side and make my way halfway down the ladder before I burst out laughing. Lina’s bed is a sea of feathers, and many are stuck to her face.
“They made me look like a chicken!” Lina sounds stunned as she peers in a mirror she has hanging from one of the bunk rails. Her eyes widen when she looks at me. “Did you try highlighting your hair last night after I went to bed?”
I reach up to touch my head. “No, why?” I ask slowly.
Lina bites her lip. “Because your hair is sort of green. And if you didn’t do it…”
I dart into the bathroom, but it takes a while to get near a mirror. The entire bunk is crowded in there. Someone has dumped what looks like marshmallow fluff all over the floor, and the room smells like Peeps, so everyone is moving slowly. Jeanie, Addison, Camilla, Vickie, Trisha, and Melody block my path, but I squeeze around them and gasp.
“My hair is Oscar the Grouch green!” I cry. Whoever sprayed me did a horrible job. I have green streaks on my bangs, while other areas of my head are untouched.
Jeanie groans and tries to move her hair, which is sticking up on end. It barely sways. “I’m going to have to wash this four times to get all this out.”
I look at her hair closely. “If we were closer to civilization, I would suggest going to a salon because they got you good.” She whimpers as she looks in the mirror. “But since we’re not, I’ve got some dry shampoo with me that you should start with so you don’t strip all the shine out of your hair with so many washings.”
“I don’t need your help,” she sniffs. I shrug.
“Look at me! They sprayed my hair pink!” Camilla cries before she notices Lina standing there. “No offense, but it is not my color. On you it looks somewhat normal.”
“Thanks. I think.” Lina plucks feathers out of her hair.
I look at Camilla’s hair. “This is washable. You should be fine with a good shampoo, and I have plenty. You’re all welcome to use my stuff,” I tell them.
“Why didn’t they do anything to your hair, Lina?” Trisha’s rubbing hard at a Sharpie pen mustache on her face. It’s not coming off.
Lina shrugs. “I guess they didn’t see any need to touch it since it is already pink.” She shows us her arms. There is black and red writing on it. “Instead they tattooed me.” She reads something and laughs. “ ‘Daredevil in training’ they wrote. That’s me!”
“Kyle,” I say before I can stop myself. Lina blushes. “I could see him
doing that. He once drew Groucho Marx eyebrows on me the day before school pictures.”
Addison takes a whiff of Vickie’s shirt. “You smell like strawberries.”
Vickie smells her shirt. “I do, don’t I? Smells good.”
“Guess whoever hit you likes you,” Trisha grumbles. Her stick is next to the sink. I’m going to kill the guy who re-taped my lacrosse stick! Now I have to beg my mom to send new tape. She already thinks I tape the stick too much as it is.”
I pick it up and look at the funky camouflage pattern. “I like it. Camo is all the rage again this season. I’d leave it like that.”
Trisha takes it from my hand and looks at the stick again from all angles. “It is?” She looks at me strangely. “Thanks.”
I’m taken aback by her politeness. “You’re welcome.”
“Ugh! What is that?” Jeanie sniffs loudly. “Does anyone else smell caramel? Between that, the strawberry syrup, and the fluff, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Me too.” It’s making me dizzy. I turn on the fan to get rid of the smell.
“No!” Camilla reaches her hand out to stop me, but it’s too late.
The fan starts up, and in horror I see water balloons begin rolling off the fan blades. Girls shriek and jump out of the way as balloons drop to the ground in quick succession and burst, sending water everywhere, including all over Jeanie.
“Don’t touch anything!” Jeanie is back to being cranky. Water drips from her pasty curls. “The cabin is probably booby-trapped—light switches, windows, doors—”
There is a scream from the hall and then the sound of more water balloons bursting. We push one another out of the way to get back into the cabin to see what is going on. I grimace. Sam and Courtney made the mistake of leaving their bedroom and got drenched. The other bunk comes out to see what happened. They look pretty bad, too.
“Cole and Thomas,” Courtney growls as she brushes whipped cream off her polka-dot pajama pants. “They definitely put their bunks up to this!”
I imagine Ethan watching me sleep with my night guard in, and I shudder.
“Payback for winning the Mud-a-Thon,” Sam says grimly and looks at her own bunk, which is standing in the doorway. It looks like they got hit worse than we did. At least no one glued packing popcorn to us. “I’m going to start helping my guys clean up.” She shuffles slowly to her girls’ bunk. Mine just stands there stunned.
Courtney wrings out her tank top, and water gushes all over the floor. “It’s going to take hours for us to clean up this mess.”
“We?” I look at the destruction around us. There is so much marshmallow fluff on the floor that it looks like a rug. All the windows have been whip creamed. Syrup oozes from the bunk beds and sticks to the feathers that are all over the floor and comforters. And that’s all we’ve found so far. “Are you sure there isn’t a camp raid–cleaning service that we could call? I’d be happy to pay for one if there is.”
Actually, I think McDaddy took all my credit cards. He said it was a security measure. He feared I’d try to book a flight to London and hightail it out of here. I said he’s watched that Lindsay Lohan version of The Parent Trap one too many times (he denies seeing it, but I’ve caught him watching it on the Disney Channel for “research”).
Courtney shrugs. “Your cabin, your mess.” Both bunks collectively groan, but I kind of smile. It feels good to be part of the action going on. I just wish the action didn’t involve syrup in my slippers. “And it better not take all day to clean this up or you’ll miss your chance to put the finishing touches on our London Blue spirit board.”
Lina bites a strand of her hair. It’s dipped in honey, so I push her hand away. “I can’t miss the free period to work on my London drawing. It’s not finished yet.”
I nod. “It looked great yesterday. It’s the best thing about that board.”
I still think the camp could have done better than a spirit board, but that’s the entry everyone wanted to work on. It’s a giant board with pictures, camp memorabilia, and sayings. Beaver and I wanted a video. (The two of us are dying to sing a London number with the kitchen crew and post it to YouTube, but that sort of thing is not allowed.) London loves when fans do something original. The spirit board is not original. I don’t want to bust Lina’s bubble though, so I haven’t said what I really think.
“Don’t worry about the spirit board. I’ve—” SPEW! Sam gets a feather stuck in her mouth. She looks like she’s going to gag as she pulls it out. “We’ll get free time to work on it. I’ll ask Hitch if he can do inspections on our cabin later today.”
“Say a toilet overflowed,” Courtney suggests.
Gross! I know this isn’t why McDaddy sent me here, but I have a newfound appreciation for Marisol.
“See you all later,” Sam says, sounding dejected as she heads back to her bunk with her girls. One girl drags a strand of toilet paper glued to her shirt behind her.
I stare at the wall behind Courtney. Chocolate syrup and caramel are oozing down it. The guys must have taken supplies yesterday morning when we were working in the kitchen. And here I thought Ethan and Kyle were trying to be nice to Lina and me. Kyle must be gloating right now. He’ll want a point for hitting our bunk without us knowing, which means he has five points to my two. Grr…
Courtney looks at us and sighs. “They hit us much harder than they did last year.”
“And so early, too,” Jeanie whines. “It’s only the second week of camp!”
“Didn’t you guys strike the third night we were here last year?” Courtney asks, and Jeanie clams up. “Cole said it took them days to get the toothpaste and shaving cream smell out of that bunk. They had to sleep on the porch.”
“Our strike was a masterpiece,” Jeanie says with a far-off look in her eyes. “Remember the beard we drew on Justin?” she asks Camilla.
“Epic,” Camilla recalls. “Like the sideburns we gave Ethan.” They all laugh.
“Yep, it was fun till you guys used permanent marker,” Courtney reminds them. “It took weeks for those Sharpie hair designs to rub off.” She tries to smudge Melody’s mustache. Melody’s lip trembles. “It’s payback time.”
“Are you saying this is a regular occurrence?” I ask. Everyone nods.
“It’s a raid.” Melody continues to rub at the marks on her face. “All the bunks do this sort of thing on the down low. I should have known they were going to hit us,” she grumbles. “They were so nice to you yesterday when you made that french toast.”
“Well, it was good,” I defend myself.
“It has nothing to do with french toast,” Courtney tells us. “You guys have had this rivalry ever since that year we tried guys versus girls in Color War and the girls lost.”
Camilla growls. “Well, we’re going to make them pay for doing this to us. We have to strike back hard and soon.”
“Before you plot the end of the boys’ world as they know it, why don’t you clean yourselves up.” Courtney waves us off to the bathroom. “That’s what I’m going to do.”
No one argues. Jeanie, Addison, Melody, Vickie, Trisha, and Camilla take off at a run. There’s only four shower stalls, so Lina and I don’t bother moving fast.
“Feel free to use that stuff I told you to!” I yell to them as Lina and I wait by our bunk beds for our turn. Courtney trudges by us. “Do you have anything that will get this chocolate syrup stench off me?” she asks.
“Purple bottle that says Falling in Love Summer by Philosophy,” I say immediately. “Fresh, floral, with a hint of romance. Second cubby down.”
“Thanks,” Courtney says.
“Harper!” I hear Camilla and Addison call me at the same time. I look at Lina, then run into the bathroom. The showers are already steamy. Jeanie is surprisingly waiting for her turn. She barely looks at me when I walk in.
“Harper, the pink isn’t coming out!” Camilla cries from her stall.
“Try this!” I hand her my strongest shampoo, the one I bought when I
tried dyeing my hair red once (it wasn’t a good look for me).
“I can’t find that dry shampoo stuff!” Addison complains as she raids my cubby.
I walk to my cubby and find Addison’s product. “Do this twice, then wash your hair.” I offer Jeanie a bottle. “This detangler works wonders on curls. Want to try it?”
“I’m fine on my own, thanks,” she says stiffly.
“Let her help you,” Addison says surprisingly. “I think Camping Barbie really knows what she’s doing in this area.” I curtsy, and Addison actually laughs!
“God, you’d think you girls had never been through a raid before,” Jeanie sniffs. “You don’t need Harper’s help to clean up. Dove soap does the trick every time.” She catches me wrinkling my nose. “What’s wrong with Dove?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Except it’s, well, Dove.”
“Harper, do you have any nice-smelling shower gel?” Vickie asks from her stall. “I can still smell shave gel on my skin.”
Trisha pokes her head out of her shower. “Anything that can rub off marker?”
As Jeanie glares at me, I hand Vickie a bottle of my Philosophy shower gel that I save for special occasions and give Trisha my Bliss body scrub. “Scrub, but don’t scrub too hard. You’ll just make your skin raw,” I instruct.
“Wow, maybe you should thank the boys,” Lina tells me as Jeanie huffily goes back to the bunk to wait for her turn to shower. “This raid has put you in high demand.”
“Maybe I’m getting somewhere,” I say as the girls all call out new requests. An hour later, we’re all as clean as we’re going to get. I still can’t get that mustache off Melody, but I’ve promised to send a Bunk One e-mail to my girl at Nordstrom who does my makeup for McDaddy events and find out what to do. She seemed grateful. So did Camilla for that industrial shampoo. Her hair looks clean and luxurious now.
Now we’re—sigh—cleaning. Lina and Addison have buckets and sponges while Jeanie is filling black garbage bags with whatever she can pick up. Camilla is stripping our sheets for Courtney to take to the laundry. Vickie is wiping down the furniture. Melody and Trisha agreed to help me scrub the walls. I close my eyes as I begin to wipe down syrup and toilet paper with my sponge, holding back the urge to get sick all over it.
