Sasquatch, Love, and Other Imaginary Things

by Betsy Aldredge

  Not wanting to be a third wheel, I pushed myself off the couch. In the kitchen, I helped myself to some potato chips directly out of the bag and sat on the bar stool at the counter.

  From where I sat I could watch Sophie and Kyle leaning in toward each other and laughing. Kyle did some funny robot dance and Sophie cracked up. They even had private jokes already. I was happy for Sophie. She deserved someone who appreciated how awesome she was and didn’t mind looking ridiculous in front of her. No one looked cool doing a robot dance. And if Kyle still found my sister attractive in her worn-out kitty pajamas from middle school, he must’ve liked her a lot.

  Hal and company sneaked out of Caroline’s room looking like they had barely survived a rough battle. Colin’s eyes sparkled when he saw Sophie and Kyle together on the couch and he immediately directed the cameras in that direction. Of course.

  I was in the middle of devouring the potato chip crumbs at the bottom of the bag when my favorite obnoxious-yet-fascinating person reappeared. I tried to act cool, nonchalant, as if last night was no big deal.

  Devan put a saucepan on the stove and filled it with water and milk. “I’m sorry, I never got to make you the chai I promised,” he said.

  “What’s that?” I asked as he grated something over the pot and put in a pod of something else.

  “Gingerroot and cardamom,” he said, before plopping in a cinnamon stick and finally carefully measuring out some loose tea. He tapped his fingers on the counter while the mixture simmered. He didn’t make eye contact the whole time.

  “That’s a very elaborate process,” I said, trying to break the silence.

  He strained the chai over two mugs, one for himself and another which he shoved across the table at me. “I make it for all my guests,” was all he replied.

  Did that mean I was special, or just one of many? I guessed that he must have been regretting our weird-ass encounter. Not that anything happened. And actually he was the one who was acting awkward and pouty. He was the one that let me sleep on his shoulder. It wasn’t my fault things got uncomfortable. I was just trying to be nice and cheer him up. And now he was giving me the silent treatment. Jerkface.

  But it was hard to stay mad once I took a sip, and the delicious liquid warmed my throat and even made my lips tingle a bit. Yum.

  “Okay, I think we’ve got enough here,” Colin said.

  “Later gators.” Hal saluted us and they all took off.

  Laughter floated in from the living room. Devan and I turned to see what was going on. Kyle had picked an eyelash off Sophie’s face, and held it out for her to make a wish. Cuteness overload.

  Devan’s jaw tensed and any trace of a smile vanished from his face.

  “It really bothers you that Kyle’s interested in Sophie, doesn’t it?” I probed.

  His eyes flashed back to me. He didn’t say a word. I got the feeling that my boldness surprised him and he was trying to decide how to answer. He glanced up at the little camera in the corner.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally responded, through gritted teeth. “Kyle’s a nice guy and probably wants to make sure your sister feels comfortable here. I don’t think there’s anything going on between them. He’s not really serious about her.”

  The way he said “her” made me put down the chai and clench my fists at my side. “Why not? What’s wrong with her?” I whispered harshly, so my sister and the kitchen camera microphones couldn’t hear.

  He recoiled. “Nothing. But Dr. DeGraw made it clear . . . I don’t want Kyle to get in trouble . . . Sophie’s just not . . .”

  “Not what? A rich boarding school bitch? A future Ivy League snob like you?” I stood abruptly, scraping the tiles with my chair. Screw the cameras. I was livid.

  Devan winced at the sound but didn’t reply. He just stared at me for a breath, with a pained expression, and then glanced again at the cameras.

  At that moment, Kyle turned around to see what was going on. He grimaced when he noticed our expressions. “Sam, pay no attention to Devan. He’s just a stress ball.”

  “Clearly,” I said, grabbing my backpack from the kitchen floor and storming through the living room. On my way to the door, I paused. “Sophie, I’m going back to camp. Mom should be here later. Call Beth if you need anything,” I said, covering my anger with a measured tone and a weak smile.

  Sophie had burning questions in her eyes, but I avoided her gaze and slammed the door behind me. I stole a quick glance at the house, and stomped down the wooden porch steps and onto the muddy trail. I kept up my pace until I was out of sight of the cabin. Then I stopped and bent over to take a deep breath and a moment to clear my head.

  I kicked my sneaker against a tree imagining Devan’s smug face. Pompous ass. Although, if I was being honest, I felt more foolish than angry. I should never have let my guard down around Devan. Of course he had said something hurtful. Why did I expect otherwise?

  The rest of the trek to my family’s camp was uneventful. I unclenched my shoulders and tried to enjoy the woodsy smell of pinecones, the chirping of various woodland creatures, and the canopy of the trees. However, the serenity was short-lived. I arrived at the site to find my mom and Lyssa bickering loudly.

  Lyssa clomped toward me. “I don’t see why it’s such a huge deal!”

  My mom opened her mouth to respond, but when she spotted me, she hurried over and gave me a big hug.

  “Sam, honey,” she said to the back of my hair. “How’s Sophie doing this morning? How did it go last night?”

  “Fine—Sophie’s fine—last night was fine . . .” I chose not to mention the wolf. Or the near kiss with Devan. Mom gestured for me to continue. “Sophie’s doing a lot better and should be back with us tomorrow, but the doctor said you can visit her later on today if you want.”

  “That’s fantastic news,” my dad said.

  “I knew some rest would do her good,” my mom said. “We’re relaxed, too. The hotel was a nice treat.”

  “Yeah, we’re lucky we stayed there.” Lyssa wrinkled her nose. She was right, the campsite and everything in it was covered in mud.

  Noticing how my mom and Lyssa avoided each other’s eyes, I sighed. “I hate to ask, but what were you arguing about this time?”

  Lyssa gave me a why-did-you-have-to-bring-it-up glare.

  My mom pushed Lyssa’s hair behind her ear, which didn’t go over so well. Lyssa made a frustrated growling sound that could have given Chewie a run for her money.

  “Samantha, tell your sister that she shouldn’t wear a bright pink thong with white shorts,” my mom said, crossing her arms in front of her.

  My dad quietly backed away to examine his map, shaking his head. He knew enough to stay the hell out of these battles.

  I shrugged. “Why do you think she’d listen to me? I spend most of my time trying to keep underwear out of my butt crack.”

  Lyssa giggled. “I like thongs, they’re more comfortable.”

  My mom pursed her lips. “I don’t want people to look at Lyssa and get the wrong idea. She’s a smart girl. She doesn’t have to dress that sexy.”

  “Whoa!” I said, wiping some dirt off my hands. “Why can’t a girl be smart and sexy, Mom? When she’s older, I mean.”

  “In my day, if you wanted to date nice boys, you dressed like a nice girl.” My mom’s voice strained with tension.

  Lyssa rolled her eyes.

  “Good job, Mom. You just set the women’s rights movement back fifty years,” I said. I loved my mom, but she could be super old-fashioned. “Although, Lyssa, what’s the rush?” I added. “When I was your age I was still sleeping with my stuffed animals.”

  “Yeah, that was less than two years ago.” Lyssa crossed her arms over her ample chest, looking like a copy of our mom. “And you’re a total dork.”

  I nodded in agreement. “And proud of it.”

  “When did you get so wise?” My mom hugged me again.

  “Don’t know. Maybe when Lyssa was shoppin
g for thongs,” I said.

  My mom laughed, but my sister scowled at me.

  “I don’t know whether to thank you for standing up for me or be mad at you for discussing my underwear like I’m not even here,” Lyssa said.

  “Your choice.”

  She shook her head and stalked away.

  Chapter 19

  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe Bigfoot doesn’t believe in you either?”

  —Hal O’Brian, cameraman, “Myth Gnomers”

  “Sophie!” my dad bellowed as we arrived at Myth Gnomers base camp the following day. Sophie smiled and waved from her seat on a bench, almost spilling her tea in her enthusiasm.

  My parents bounded over and took turns hugging their eldest daughter.

  “How are you feeling today, darling?” my mom asked, pressing her hand to Sophie’s forehead.

  By then Lyssa and I had reached the bench and joined the hug fest. Poor Sophie still had bags under her eyes and pale skin, but her face glowed from her cheery smile.

  “I’m okay, Mom. Just tired. The doctor said I had such a severe flu that it may take a couple of weeks to be one hundred percent back to myself. So I need to walk slowly, but otherwise, as long as I don’t push myself too much, I’m good to go. Dr. Sawyer said I was lucky to get such good care.” She smiled in the direction of Kyle. “They really were great to me.”

  My raised eyebrows must have spoken for themselves. “They were great, or Kyle was great?” I asked.

  Sophie shook her head. “Devan was, too. He washed my clothes, and made me his delicious tea. And Caroline . . .” her voice trailed off. “Well, she kind of grew on me. She let me read her magazines and borrow her clothes.”

  My Sophie, always trying to see the good in people. Quite an annoying trait, really.

  “You know what else grows on you? Toe fungus and belly button lint,” I teased, once the rest of my family had left to get ready for the shoot. I was grateful that the Netherfield kids took care of my sister, but I was still really upset about Devan’s latest insults. I clenched my fists, as I did every time I thought about them. But I kept smiling for Sophie’s sake.

  Shaking out my hands, I threw an arm over her shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “So are you ready to rough it in the tents again? Or are you too fancy for us now?”

  She leaned her head on my shoulder. “I’ll never be too fancy for you.” Her gaze suddenly shifted and she whispered, “Incoming,” and I saw that we were surrounded on all fronts.

  Colin walked toward us from the left side while Devan approached on the right. There was no escaping either of them.

  Colin got to us first, but stopped several feet away. “Sophie, I’m glad you’re up and about,” he said. “Ready for the next challenge?”

  “Don’t worry. The doctor says I’m not contagious, right, Samantha?” she replied.

  “Yup. You could probably make out with her and be totally fine,” I said. “Unless you think Kyle would mind?”

  Devan cleared his throat, and Sophie and I turned to see him staring at the ground. He’d overheard that last sentence.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Devan said with a prim expression.

  What a prude. Seriously, a little teasing about sucking face and he looks like I just took my clothes off at temple and started belly dancing. He really needed to lighten up. “Can we help you with something?”

  “I have Sophie’s cough medicine. The doctor dropped it off after she left.” Devan carefully avoided looking at us and took a small bottle and a handwritten note out of his pocket.

  I glanced over at the note. “That’s pretty spiffy handwriting for a doctor.”

  Devan made a face. “I wrote down the directions for Sophie, so I wouldn’t forget anything.”

  “Wow, does Netherfield require you to take Fancy Penmanship 101?” I asked.

  “It’s something my mother insisted I practice,” he replied. Then, standing a little taller like he was getting ready to make a point, he added, “But, I think nice handwriting can say a lot about an individual. I can only imagine that your handwriting resembles a kindergartener’s.”

  Colin laughed at Devan’s barb and I turned to Sophie to back me up. Her mouth fell open, out of astonishment, I assumed.

  “Look who just stooped to our level,” I said to Sophie.

  Shaking his head, Devan walked away in the direction of the trailers until Sophie called out to him to stop. “Devan, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me over the past few days. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Yes, well.” He frowned a little. “My mother also taught me how important it is to take care of one’s guests. I would’ve done that for almost anyone.”

  “Almost anyone?” I asked. I couldn’t help but assume he meant me. Despite the fact that we had been sparring and arguing for days now, my cheeks burned from his spite. I opened my mouth to launch a biting comment at him, but when his eyes met mine, the hardness in his jaw softened.

  “No, I wouldn’t help out an ass like Jake.” Devan held my gaze for a moment, before he turned and walked away.

  “It wouldn’t kill you to be nicer,” Sophie said, turning to me.

  “It might, actually.” I twirled one of my curls around my finger. She was right. As usual. Or she would be, if she knew the whole story.

  “I’ll try,” I told her, letting out all the air in my lungs.

  Colin rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Bad blood between the pretty boys?” he asked.

  “You have no idea. Shouldn’t we get started soon?” I asked, changing the subject. “We’re ready to win this thing,” I said with a pointed look at my sister.

  An intern ran past us with a huge stack of papers and a frantic expression. Colin made a motion for him to speed it up and then took off. The crew was also in overdrive, reorganizing gear. Even Beth hurried around the set with a clipboard. I’d never seen the crew so wound up and frenzied.

  “What’s going on around here?” I asked Sophie.

  She shook her head.

  “Something’s up,” I said with a frown.

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Jake had just stepped out of the makeup trailer studying what looked like a script. Unfortunately, he was followed by Lyssa who was carrying his coffee cup and gazing at him with rapt attention. I let out a small groan as I watched them cross the lawn. Sophie saw me chewing my nails and pulled my hand out of my mouth. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Lyssa’s a big girl.”

  I examined my cuticles and sighed. “I know. I don’t think she realizes who she’s dealing with. He may enjoy flirting with her, but I doubt he cares about letting her down easy.”

  My sister rubbed my back a little like she used to do when I had a bad day at school.

  “It’s not up to you to save everyone. I’m the big sister, remember? And we have parents, too. Let them worry about Lyssa.”

  “I just get so anxious. I even have nightmares that I’m a shepherd and you guys are all sheep, and my job is to keep rounding everyone up, and then another one runs away and I have to start herding again.” All the stress of the last few weeks hit me like a huge linebacker—on steroids. Panic welled up in my throat and hot tears flooded the corners of my eyes.

  “Stop!” Sophie probably hadn’t raised her voice at me since the Great Barbie Haircut Disaster of 2005. I thought Barbie wanted a pixie-cut. Clearly I was wrong.

  Her eyes flashed at me. “We can all take care of ourselves. I think I can speak for Mom, Dad, and Lyssa. We all know how much you love us and how you worry about us, but you need to let us take care of you sometimes, too. It’s not worth making yourself sick with worry.”

  I tried to let her words permeate my brain and to calm myself down. It didn’t work. Sophie had no idea how worried I was, because she didn’t know the full story about Mom and Dad and the bank.

  “But I can’t help myself. I’m Jewish, therefore I worry.”

  Sophie shook her head. “All thos
e years of Hebrew school. Didn’t you learn anything? Of all the rich aspects of our Jewish heritage, you couldn’t have picked being able to make kickass chicken soup, you had to go with being a worrywart?”

  “Okay. Fine. More cooking, less worrying.” I gave Sophie a hug. Part of me felt better, but the other part of me wished desperately that I had never heard the name “Myth Gnomers” or the words “Bigfoot” and “reality TV” in the same sentence.

  Jake put down his coffee, apparently ready to start filming. He stretched his neck from side to side and jumped up and down, like a boxer. “Okay, Colin, I’m good to go.”

  Colin nodded once and held up his megaphone. “Let’s get everyone on set, please.” The cast and crew took their places.

  Colin pointed at the cameras. “Rolling,” he said.

  Jake looked straight at the camera and with a well-placed grin, began, “As Bigfoot hunters, you all know that part of a cryptozoologist’s skill lies in being able to distinguish the real from the fake. Ladies and gentlemen, for this next challenge, you will be split up into pairs. Each pair will have three days to find five pieces of fake evidence that we’ve planted in your quadrant. And it won’t be easy, because we’ve had a team of special effects and set dressing experts from Hollywood come in to set the scene . . .”

  Ha! If anyone knows about fake evidence, it’s us Berger girls.

  “But, don’t get too comfortable, Squatch hunters, because we’re going to completely mix things up this round. Contestants, please shake hands or hug your teammates . . .” Jake paused and made a gesture with his hand like he was serious.

  I followed his directions, hugging Sophie first then Lyssa, before embracing my mom, who looked worried—big surprise—and my dad, who was still pretty enthusiastic, but a bit confused.

  I glanced at the other team. Kyle and Devan exchanged full bro hugs while Kyle and Caroline gave each other a quick peck on the cheek. When Caroline approached Devan, she hesitated like she wasn’t sure whether to hug or kiss him. She leaned over for a kiss, but he offered her his hand to shake instead. Ouch! Maybe it was a British thing, or maybe he was still mad at her because of her fling with Jake.