Inside the mess hall, Grover and Bek play an intense game of Speed, their hands slapping cards down on the table with every play. A few other campers are scattered about playing other board games.
“I need your help,” I say.
Grover turns to me—I’m clad only in my bathing suit—and says, “This is officially the best day of my life.”
I try to cover my body with my arms.
“I need some saltines,” I say.
“Why?” Bek asks as he reshuffles his deck.
“Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.”
“I know Maslow.” Bek’s eyes stay on the cards. “Great guy.”
“Saltines. Can you help me?” I ask Grover.
Grover nods, then disappears behind the kitchen door. I shift back and forth, wishing I’d had the foresight to bring a towel with me.
“Don’t worry. You’re not my type,” Bek says.
“What?”
“The bathing suit. It doesn’t do it for me. I’ve got my eye on someone else.” Bek doesn’t look up from the cards he’s shuffling, but I can tell he’s blushing.
“Are we allowed back there?” I ask when Grover returns with an armful of crackers.
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked,” Grover says as he hands them to me.
Cassie sits on her beach towel, face up at the sky when I get back. I toss the crackers down on her lap.
“Eat.”
“What part of anorexic don’t you get, Z?”
“You eat Lemonheads.”
“They don’t count,” she says.
“Why not?”
“Because everyone knows candy isn’t real food.”
“Eat the crackers.” I act as resolved as possible considering I’m dealing with a person who might stab me with her stolen fork in my sleep, but she needs to eat. She won’t feel safe with me if she doesn’t have food.
Cassie picks up a pack. “How many calories are in this thing?”
“Think of it this way—you haven’t eaten a proper meal in, like, forever. You’re negative thousands of calories. A cracker isn’t going to hurt you.”
“That’s not how calories work, dumb ass.”
“Just eat it,” I bark.
Cassie sits back on her towel, her lips poised like the next thing that comes out of her mouth is going to be the meanest thing she’s ever said. The eating box–blow job comment will be nothing compared to what she has in store for me.
And then she does the unexpected. She unwraps a cracker and eats it.
“What?” she says with a mouthful of food.
“Nothing,” I stutter. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at anything when it comes to Cassie.
When she’s consumed a few packs of crackers, I ask her again if she wants to learn how to swim.
“Fine.” She stands up and dusts off her sandy butt.
“But you have to wear that.” I point to the life jacket sitting in the sand.
“Fine, but I call dibs on the first shower when we get back to the cabin.”
“Fine,” I mock as I clip the life jacket on Cassie. “By the way, I like you on food.”
She ignores my comment as we walk down to the shore of Lake Kimball. Cassie stops before stepping in and stares at the water. Lake weed sits in little clumps on the sand. The water is slime green with only a hint of blue, but out in the center of the lake, it’s navy.
Minutes go by. And then Cassie says, “I was sent home five times in kindergarten with lice.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
“Five times?” I ask.
“My mom never even gave me a bath. She’d wash me with a washcloth and sprinkle baby powder on my head.”
Her big toe hovers over the water.
“Was she afraid of the water or something?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t talk to me.” Cassie looks down at her leg. Her gaze gets strong, like the memories in her head are so present she can’t help but acknowledge them.
Her big toe brushes the tip of the water and makes the tiniest ripple.
“Do you want to be like your mom?” I ask.
She shakes her head, so I grab her hand. She doesn’t pull away this time.
“Prove it,” I say.
We step into the water together.
CHAPTER 15
Dear Mom and Dad,
Will you please send me another bathing suit? I’ve been spending a lot of time in the water. Don’t worry. It’s not like it was before. I promise.
And make it a two-piece.
Z
The camp stands divided into two groups on the archery field. The sun hangs low in the sky, which is changing from baby blue to a pink, purple, and orange. At least, the darkness will give my skin a break. Heat radiates off my shoulders from my sunburn. I might have blisters tomorrow. I yawn into my hand, my body sluggish, as Kerry goes over the rules for capture the flag.
“I finally know why you were sent here,” Dori whispers to me.
My stomach drops to the ground as I whisper back, “Why?”
She leans toward my ear. “Because clearly you’re a masochist.”
“I’m not a masochist.”
“Then what are you doing with Cassie?” She says it a little too loud and Kerry looks at us.
“Teamwork,” Kerry says loudly. “Is essential to success in life. No one can survive on his or her own. You are not alone. I want you to remember that when you leave Camp Padua. You are not alone. We need each other. And if you’re ever feeling lost, remember it’s easier to find yourself if other people help you look.” He looks in our direction as he tries to make the game of capture the flag into some team-building activity that’s going to help all the lost souls here.
When Kerry looks away, I say to Dori, “It’s nothing.”
“You stood in the water for three hours and let Cassie make fun of you.”
“She wasn’t making fun of me.” I cross my arms over my chest and fidget uncomfortably in my own skin. I need aloe.
Dori cocks her head to the side. “She wasn’t?”
I review some of Cassie’s comments from today’s swim lesson. Dori is right about the three hours. We stood thigh-deep in the water as Cassie refused to bend down, put her face in the water, and blow bubbles. In the end, Cassie never did it. When the bell rang, she threw her orange life jacket on the beach and left it for me to put away. I tried not to be disappointed, but realized that I wanted to feel disappointed. I got sunburned for nothing.
“It was more like observations,” I whisper.
Dori shakes her head at me as Kerry finishes. “One cannot survive on his or her own. Life takes teamwork,” he says. He hands out the flags and points out the boundaries for the game. “You can hide your flag anywhere in the woods around the archery field and stables. Please do not leave the area. Any questions?”
A hand in the crowd goes up. I look at the long fingers attached to an even longer arm that’s attached to an even longer skinny body. Grover’s head sticks up over most of the campers.
“Yes, Grover,” Kerry says.
“I have a question.”
“Okay.”
“I actually have a lot of questions,” Grover amends.
“Okay. What about?”
Grover shakes his head. “Girls . . . or should I call them women? That’s my first question.”
“You should call them women,” Kerry says.
“Okay. My first question is about women. Why do they smell so good?”
“What does this have to do with the game?” Kerry looks like his patience is waning.
“How am I supposed to play a game when there are women running around smelling so good? I can barely sit next to Zander at dinner without smelling her neck. It’s distracting and seems unfair.”
Dori looks at me. My sunburned skin gets even hotter.
“I told you,” Kerry says. “No boy-girl relationships at camp.”
“And I told you, Grove
r and Zander sounds like a gay couple. No one will know.”
“Clearly, Zander is not a boy.” Kerry points at me.
“She might be.” Cassie pipes up. “Have you seen her bathing suit?”
“Oh, I have.” Grover’s voice sounds flirty and he wiggles his eyebrows. I cover my face with my hand.
“Back to the questions,” Kerry says.
“Technically, Sticks asked a question,” Grover says. “So what about the boys who might like boys or the girls who like girls? Are they allowed to have relationships at camp?”
Cassie raises her hand. “What about the girls who think they might be boys having a relationship with boys or girls depending on the day?”
“Yes.” Grover points at Cassie. “Which leads me to another question. If a girl thinks she’s a boy locked in a girl’s body, does she smell like a girl or a boy?”
“You mean woman,” Cassie says.
“Right. Woman,” Grover says.
“No relationships whatsoever,” Kerry says. “Now, can we please stick to the topic at hand?”
“You asked if I had any questions. I’m just asking them,” Grover says innocently.
“About the game,” Kerry says emphatically.
“The game?” Grover’s face looks surprised. “We played it last year. I’m cool. Proceed.”
“Thank you.” Kerry blows a whistle and campers start to move.
“Grover really likes you,” Dori says as our team huddles to make a plan.
“Don’t remind me.”
“Why do you act like that’s a bad thing?” she says.
I don’t answer her because I don’t know what to say. I get jumbled just thinking about Grover and his colorful feelings mixing with mine. They could potentially make a rainbow or they could make a large mess of brown.
Our team eventually finds a hiding spot high up in a tree, and we stuff our flag there. When the team goes to split into groups, Cassie steps in.
“I’ll take it from here.” She points around at the group. “You, you, you, not you, you, definitely not you, you, and Zander. You’re with me. We’ll be in charge of finding the other flag.”
Dori pats me on my back as she takes off with the other half of our team and says sarcastically, “Good luck.”
I stand, half hunched over as we make a plan to capture the flag.
“Let’s split up,” Cassie says. She comes up to me and grabs my shoulder. “You’re coming with me.”
“Ouch.” I pull away. “I’m sunburned.”
“White-people problems.” Cassie shakes her head. “Come on, Z, in the name of teamwork, I need your help.”
Cassie proceeds to drag me through the woods, away from the group and the boundaries Kerry set for the game. I try to pull free, but Cassie won’t let go of my arm. My ankle still aches a bit and I stumble.
“Where are we going?” I ask, out of breath.
But Cassie doesn’t answer; she just pulls on me harder, her nails digging into my skin. When I finally trip on a root sticking out of the ground and fall, she stops.
“What the hell are we doing?” I yell and slam my hand on the ground.
“Aren’t you feisty tonight? I told you, I need your help. Consider it a teamwork activity.”
“This isn’t teamwork,” I say. “This is you bossing me around. I tried to help you all day and all you do is make fun of me!”
Cassie stares at me lying on the ground. Her eyes narrow and something different, something I’ve only seen a few times, flashes in them. Sadness.
“Fine.” She starts to walk away.
I groan as I stand up. I don’t care if Cassie looks sad that I won’t come with her. She can walk away all she wants. I’m done running after her. I’m done standing in the water, waiting for her to make a move. Except . . .
Maybe that’s what everyone has done to her. They’ve left her standing alone in the water because they couldn’t take it anymore, and I know what alone feels like.
“Wait,” I yell to her. Cassie looks back at me. “I’m coming.”
And in that moment, the sadness on her face washes away.
“Just wait out here,” she says when we’re back at our cabin and she disappears inside. When she comes out, she’s wearing the University of Arizona sweatshirt I gave her and carrying her duffel bag.
“Are you running away or something?”
“From what? You can’t run away when you’re nowhere to start. Come on.”
We walk across camp without another word. Cassie seems calm at my side, every once in a while glancing at my burned shoulders. I, on the other hand, look around like a squirrel worried it’s going to be hit by a car.
“Would you relax, Z,” she says when we get to the Wellness Center. The lights are off inside the wooden building that holds all the medicine needed for kids at camp and who knows what else.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, but Cassie doesn’t answer me as she walks up to the locked door and pulls out a key. “Where did you get that?”
“Not telling,” she mocks and unlocks the door. “Now stay out here and watch my back.”
“Not unless you tell me what you’re doing.”
“The less you know the better,” Cassie says.
“Why?” I bark.
“Innocence, Z. I’m trying to protect you.”
I ease back hearing that. “Well, what’s so important in the Wellness Center anyway?”
Cassie looks me dead in the eyes. “I’m getting something we need.”
She disappears into the building. I pace back and forth looking around for anyone who might come up. What could Cassie need? A million possibilities go through my mind. This is the girl who popped a handful of diet pills the first moment I met her, and I just let her go into a building full of drugs with a duffel bag? I clench my hands at my sides and dig my fingernails into my skin. It hurts. And I don’t want to hurt. But I can’t stop it like I used to. I can’t make it go away.
The second I’m about to go in and get her myself, I hear someone.
I duck behind the side of the building and peek to see who it is. I can feel my heartbeat in my temples as I wait. When a long shadow creeps around the corner followed by a short round one, I ease back.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” I whisper harshly as I see Grover and Bek.
“Backup.” Grover opens his arms like he’s inviting me in. When I don’t move closer, he leans into me. “Cassie wasn’t sure you had the guts.” He nudges my side.
“The guts?” I ask.
“Yeah, the guts.” Grover says it like he’s taunting me. “I told her you did.”
I lean back against the building, suddenly exhausted. My legs are tired from standing in the water all day. And Cassie doesn’t think I have guts? No one else at this camp would subject themselves to her sarcastic form of torture, except for maybe Grover. I rest my head back against the wall and look up at the darkening sky. Only little patches of color can be seen through the heavy canopy of trees.
“What’s the sky like in Arizona?” Grover asks, his soft question surprising me.
“It’s big, I guess. Bigger than it is here.” I keep my eyes up, trying to find a star through the branches. Our yard doesn’t have a single tree in it, just hard grass and dust. Grass is different here. It’s smooth, like silk. Like it’s not starving for water.
I take a seat on the ground, my body feeling deflated. My voice comes out flat when I say, “Everything’s just more exposed in Arizona.”
“I think I’d like it.” Grover sits next to me.
I shake my head but can’t look at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Why not?” he asks.
I run my hand over the well-watered, alive grass beside me. “Because everything is one moment away from dying.”
I touch the crescent moon indents on my hands that are now fading. The seat of my shorts is starting to feel damp from the rain still soaked in the ground. If I picked up a handful of dirt, it would stic
k to my palm and fingers. If I did the same in Arizona, it would break into pieces and disappear in the breeze.
As I stare at my hands, I feel something. I glance and catch Grover staring at my neck. A moment later, he catches me catching him. His eyes move down to my sunburn, and Grover touches my shoulder. It stings.
“It hurts,” I say.
He nods and rests his hands in his lap.
“I have a question,” Bek pipes up. He’s pacing in front of us, picking at his nails and looking more nervous than me.
“Just one?” Grover asks.
“What does love feel like?” Bek asks.
“What?” I sit up a bit.
Bek’s eyes get wide, the blue center bright. He looks scared. “I think I’m in love.”
“Is he lying?” I whisper to Grover.
He shrugs. “It’s on my list of questions.”
At that moment, Cassie comes flying out of the door. She runs square into Bek, knocking him on his butt. Her duffel bag lands on the ground.
“Sorry, Piglet.” She offers him her hand and he takes it. Even in the twilight, I see Bek’s cheeks blush.
“Did you get what you need, Sticks?”
Cassie nods at Grover and shakes free from Bek’s grip. “Oh my God, your hands are sweaty.”
“Je suis désolé,” he mumbles. I perk up when I hear the French.
“What?” Cassie asks.
“Nothing.” Bek shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at me bug-eyed, like he’s begging me not to reveal his secret.
“So what’s in the bag?” I reach to grab it off the ground, but Cassie moves in front of me.
“Don’t worry about it.” She slings it over her shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I need to dump this before anyone sees us.”
We half walk, half jog back to our cabin, Bek next to Cassie and Grover next to me. I stare at the duffel bag, wondering what could possibly be in there and at the same time feeling like maybe I don’t want to know.
“I almost forgot.” Cassie pulls a bottle from her shorts and tosses it at me.
I catch it. “Aloe?” I ask.
“Sorry about your sunburn, Z.”
Cassie picks up the pace as she runs ahead with Bek. I stand, holding a full bottle of aloe, shocked.
“Where are you from, Grover?” I finally say.
The Odds of Loving Grover Cleveland Page 10
