Second Time's the Charm

by Melissa J Morgan

  She forced her way through her friends without looking any of them in the eye and plodded forward to the mess hall.

  “Hey, Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!”

  Sarah blinked and looked right toward the sound of her name. Her friend Jenna, formerly of 3C and now of 4A, was standing on the mess-hall lawn surrounded by a few 4A-ers. She started waving crazily as soon as Sarah looked up, her messy brunette braid flailing as she moved her head to follow Sarah’s approach.

  “What did you get?” Jenna demanded before Sarah even got all the way up to her.

  Sarah sighed. “Sports and arts and crafts.”

  Jenna’s whole face lit up. “Awesome! I’m in sports, too. We’re going to kick some boy butt!”

  Standing close by, Natalie and Tori laughed. Sarah glanced over and saw that Alyssa and Chelsea were also there.

  “I got arts and crafts,” Alyssa added. “You and I will definitely have fun in that. I hear we’re working with chalk pastels this session.”

  “Great,” Sarah said sarcastically. “The only pastel I can pull off is if I draw a big mud puddle. That’s what all of my drawings turn into eventually.”

  Alyssa laughed. “Oh, you just need a little technique,” she said with a wink. “I’ll help you out. And if I ever end up in sports again, heaven forbid, you can teach me how to land a slam dunk.”

  Sarah smiled. “Deal!”

  Right then, Justin, one of the boys’ counselors, opened the doors to the mess hall and all of the campers started stampeding in. Sarah drifted into the hall with the 4A girls, then split off and went to find the table for 4C. Sarah spotted Brynn and Valerie on the other side of the hall talking to a couple of boys, but Alex was sitting alone at their table, looking around anxiously. As Sarah approached, her face flooded with relief.

  “Sars,” she said as Sarah grabbed the chair next to her. “I didn’t mean to make you mad with the social-committee stuff. And if you don’t want to be on it, you totally don’t have to. You know that, right?”

  Sarah nodded and fiddled with her silverware. “I know.”

  Alex sighed. “I just . . . you seem upset.”

  Sarah sighed. She felt her insides turn to mush, the way they always did when she was upset and someone was this nice to her. She knew she’d been mean to snap at Alex. She didn’t know how to explain that she was worried about drifting apart from her, Brynn, Val, and Grace, and all this other stuff. Alex seemed so confident all the time—Sarah couldn’t imagine her understanding.

  “Is it because you’re in sports alone?” Alex asked suddenly, looking confused. “I mean Abby will be in there with you. She seems pretty cool.”

  Sarah sighed. There’s no way Abby and I will ever be friends, but Alex would never understand that. “Yeah,” she said finally, almost whispering. “I know it’s lame. I was worried about being lonely, but yeah, Abby will be there, I guess. It turns out Jenna’s in there, too.”

  Abby, Gaby, and the rest of 4C came over to the table and grabbed seats. Sarah watched them, not wanting to look at Alex and see if she understood. But she felt Alex reach over and pat her shoulder. “You’ll kick serious butt without us, Sars,” Alex said confidently. “You always do.”

  Across the table, Gaby grabbed her silverware and looked across the room. “What’s for dinner tonight?” she asked. “I’m starved.”

  “That’s ’cause you barely ate anything at lunch,” Alex pointed out.

  Gaby shrugged, still craning her neck to see any sign of the CITs with their dinner. “Mac and cheese is bad for you. It’s all carbs and fat.”

  “And protein,” Abby interjected, unfolding her napkin. “And calcium? Honestly, Gaby, you’re lucky you don’t play sports. You’d run out of energy in about half a minute with the stuff you eat.”

  Gaby rolled her eyes. Sarah knew that if anyone else had made that comment, Gaby would have made some nasty retort. But since it was Abby, she’d let it slide.

  “Whatever,” Gaby muttered, smiling warily. “The point is, I’m hungry.”

  A few seconds later the CITs began serving the meal, and Sophie came over with a huge tray of meat loaf. “Gross,” Gaby whispered as Sophie set it down in the middle of the table. “It looks . . . gray.”

  “Maybe it came from an old cow,” Sarah quipped without thinking. Alex started laughing, and soon most of the table joined in. Even Gaby smiled ruefully as she took a piece of meat loaf and passed the tray around. The only person not laughing was the person who never laughed at Sarah’s jokes . . . Abby. She just sat there, stone-faced. It was like Sarah’s voice came out on some uncool frequency that Abby couldn’t hear.

  Nobody else noticed, though. Everyone assumed Sarah and Abby were old friends, since they both came from the same tiny town outside Boston. The truth, though, was that they ran in totally different crowds. Abby hung with the jocks, a bunch of popular girls and boys who sat together at a big lunch table and were all on the Winthrop Middle School sports teams. Sarah had only a few close friends, and they mostly kept to themselves. They were smart enough and well-liked enough by the teachers that some of the kids called them “nerds,” but they got along with most everyone. They just weren’t popular, like Abby and her friends. Sarah frowned as she watched everyone dig into their meat loaf. She loved coming to camp because she felt as if she could do anything here, and no one could tell her that she wasn’t like that, that she was too nerdy, not popular enough, whatever. But she felt like Abby was always on the verge of telling her just that.

  “Hey,” Valerie was saying. “You got sports as an activity, right, Abby?”

  Abby looked up. “Yeah,” she replied. “I can’t wait to get out there and play! Why?”

  “Well, that means you and Sarah will be in sports together.” Val nudged Sarah with her elbow, almost making her spill her bug juice. “See, Sars? You guys will have a great time together. Two amazing athletes from the same town! What are the chances?”

  Sarah felt her face starting to burn. She’s going to tell everybody. Everyone will know I’m not really a jock. “Well, I’m not that great—”

  But Abby was already speaking. “Yeah,” she was saying. “Well, actually, I didn’t even know Sars played sports.”

  Sarah winced. Sars was a nickname that no one ever called her outside camp. At school, she was just Sarah—Sarah Peyton, teacher’s pet and all-around priss. Well, this was it. Sarah’s cover was about to be blown. But she could out herself—she didn’t have to wait for Abby to do it.

  She put down her bug juice and looked Abby in the eye. “I don’t, at home,” she said simply.

  Alex practically choked on her bug juice. “You don’t?” she asked, slamming her cup down. “But you’re great, Sarah! You’re like the second-best athlete this camp has ever seen!”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Second best?”

  Alex nodded, smiling. “After me, I mean. Well, maybe third best. Jenna’s pretty good, too.”

  “You’re amazing, is the point,” Val chimed in. “You’re such a great athlete! So why don’t you play on any teams at home? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird,” muttered Abby.

  Sarah sighed and looked down at her plate. How could she explain it? The truth was, even she wasn’t sure why she loved playing sports at camp yet never tried them at home. Was she afraid of losing?

  “I guess . . . I’m just really busy at home,” Sarah said. She glanced up just in time to see Abby roll her eyes, but she didn’t think anyone else saw. “With schoolwork, I mean. And besides, camp is the perfect time to branch out, I think—to try something new.” She caught Abby’s eye. “With nobody judging you, you know?”

  Abby looked away.

  “But if you’re good at sports, you’re good at sports,” Alex said, waving around a forkful of green beans. “Why not play on some teams? Don’t you think it’s a waste, Abby?”

  Abby looked up at Alex. “I guess,” she said, sounding skeptical, then glanced sideways at Sarah. “If she r
eally is good. I’ve never seen her play.”

  “She’s amazing,” Grace said, shooting Sarah a big smile.

  Abby took a sip of bug juice and shrugged, still unconvinced. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow.”

  Sarah watched Abby as she lost interest in the conversation and went back to her meal. She kind of half-heard her friends turn the conversation, once again, to the social and what they wanted to do on the committee. Sarah guessed she must have looked normal on the outside, because nobody said anything to her, but inside, she was seething. All right, she thought. It’s okay that Abby doesn’t want to be my friend, or that she thinks she’s too cool for me, or whatever. But now she doesn’t even believe I’m good at sports! She just doesn’t think a “nerd” like me could be good at anything—besides taking tests!

  Sarah was finding it hard to concentrate on her meal. Abby’s attitude was making her madder and madder. She poked at her meat loaf and shoved a few bites in her mouth before the CITs came around again to pick up the dinner plates. I’ll show her, she thought, chewing fiercely. I’ll show her what a “nerd” can do. Tomorrow I’ll blow Abby away at sports. If anyone can impress her, I can!