Five Summers
Page 30
“None of the other girls from our cabin are here yet,” Adri said, looking at her list after they recited their names. “Well, except for Jo. She’s around here somewhere. Her dad owns the camp, so she already knows everything.” Adri winked and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Or thinks she does, anyway.”
In the distance, Emma saw the tall, mustachioed man from the Camp Nedoba website walking with two girls, both about Emma’s age. One was dark-haired and the other had red curls like Annie, from the movie. As they got closer, Emma could see that the red-haired girl had recently been crying. She wished she could reach out to her, like Skylar had done for Emma, but she would have to wait until the adults left.
“Adri,” the tall man said, “this is Maddie Ryland. She was a late addition so she might not be on your list.”
“Hi, Maddie,” Adri said brightly, crouching down to her eye level. “Don’t worry, we’re going to have so much fun this summer, you won’t even miss home.”
The tall man smiled at Adri and bent down to whisper to the black-haired girl. “Now, Jo,” Emma overheard him say. “Remember, I told you Maddie really needs a friend here. Please be nice to her and show her around.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because you’re my right-hand girl!” he said, ruffling her hair. Emma saw her smile proudly, and then looked away before she got caught eavesdropping.
“All right, ladies, why don’t I take you back to the cabin so you can get settled?” Adri said. “You can have your pick of the beds.” She put her arms around Emma and Skylar. “I think you two should share a bunk,” she said. “What do you say?”
Emma smiled. “That sounds good.”
“Definitely,” Skylar said.
“You can be my bunkmate, I guess,” Emma heard Jo say reluctantly to Maddie.
They left their trunks behind—Adri promised that the counselors would drive them over to the girls’ side later—and started walking up the hill that led to a dirt path shaded by tall pine trees. As they passed the basketball court, Emma noticed a short boy with big ears in a giant Boston Red Sox jersey talking excitedly to one of his counselors.
“I know karate,” the boy said. “Wanna see?”
“Later,” the counselor said wearily.
“Wanna hear a joke?” the boy went on. “What do you call cheese that’s not yours?”
“I have no idea.”
“Nacho cheese!” The boy cracked up, and the counselor smiled tolerantly.
“Gonna be a long summer,” he called to Adri as she passed.
“Nah,” she laughed. “I’ve got some quality girls here.”
Skylar shifted her duffel bag to her other shoulder and reached out her hand, grinning at Emma. Emma took it gratefully. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal that Anna wasn’t there with her. Maybe her mom was right; she would make new friends. She already had one, one that was cooler than anyone Emma had ever met back in Boston. The breeze lifted Emma’s ponytail off the nape of her neck, and she felt a chill of excitement shoot down her spine. Summer camp might not so bad after all, Emma thought to herself with a smile. It was only four weeks.
And how much could her life change in four weeks, really?
Acknowledgments
MY DEEPEST AND MOST HEARTFELT THANKS ARE DUE TO:
Jocelyn Davies, for holding my hand through first-time authorship with limitless patience and cheerleading; Ben Schrank, for his trust and guidance; Rebecca Kilman and everyone else at Razorbill, for their tireless enthusiasm and support; Laura Bernier, for playing matchmaker; Beth Ziemacki and Michael Stearns, for being my pro bono consiglieri; Zoe LaMarche, for being my sounding board and forever favorite person; Ellen Chuse and Gara LaMarche, for their unconditional love (and free babysitting); Lisa Mueller and Ben Iturralde, for adopting me as family long before it was official; all of my friends—especially Emily Barth Isler—for their excitement and encouragement throughout the writing process; Adrianna Muir and Tara Tracy, without whom I would never have made it through adolescence, let alone three summers’ worth of camp; and of course to Jeff and Sam Zorabedian, without whom I would simply never make it, period.