by J. K. Rock
But now…here was one for me. I returned Emily’s smile and reached for it. Who didn’t love presents?
“Looks like a book.” Siobhan peered up from a periodic table pinned on the wall behind her bunk. “So much better than my gift.” She fished a fuchsia-haired troll doll from her backpack and flipped it to Trinity. “Creepy.”
The so-ugly-it’s-cute figure landed in Trinity’s cross-legged lap, breaking her out of her meditative trance.
“So not Zen, Siobhan.” She scrambled to her feet and kicked it. The object rolled toward a laughing Jackie, who shot it at Piper with a fly swatter.
“Yuck.” Piper picked it up and sniffed. “It smells like a toxic waste dump and looks even worse.”
“The worst part was the note,” Siobhan said. “What does ‘pay the troll and cross my bridge’ even mean?”
“Sounds kinky.” I waggled my eyebrows, unable to resist teasing my serious friend. I kind of liked her Secret Camp Angel. He or she seemed fun. Speaking of which…fireworks were planned for tonight’s Fourth of July celebration, and I intended to have a good time at them…with Javier if I could tempt him out of the kitchen. This was supposed to be my payback summer—the best time ever before being incarcerated at the boarding school. Time to make it happen.
“It’s from a children’s story.” Yasmine zippered her makeup bag and turned from the mirror, her dark eyes smudged and smoky to match her flowing, charcoal caftan. If we’d been friends, I would beg Yasmine to make me over that way. But that was a big IF.
“It’s the tale about a troll who guards this bridge and won’t let anyone pass unless they pay,” she added.
“I know about the fairy tale,” Siobhan huffed. “I just don’t understand how it fits the gift or why they’d give it to me.”
“Maybe you owe someone, Siobhan,” breathed Trinity, the faraway look in her eyes. “Karma-wise.”
I expected Siobhan to point out that “karma-wise” wasn’t a word. So I nearly fell over when she squealed, girly style.
“I’d like to owe Rafael Cruz.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide as if she’d just revealed a state secret.
“Heck yes. He’s perfect for you.” I took out a fresh pack of gum and offered a piece to all my cabin mates, including Yasmine. “You should definitely be pursuing a chess champ. Talk about karma. Or would that be kismet?”
Even Trinity looked unsure.
Siobhan studied her toenails, her voice low. “I just mean I like him as a friend, guys.”
“You should challenge him to a friendly game then, Siobhan.” Jackie sauntered over to study the troll doll, and I noticed Siobhan carefully steered the conversation back to the randomness of her Secret Camp Angel gift.
I put down my own present to check out outfit options. If it was a book like my friends all thought, I wasn’t that interested. My parents made me read enough of the self-help kind to last me through three reincarnations.
“I think it’s a great gift,” Emily insisted, hopping into the conversation and holding the troll doll up high for us all to admire it. “Besides, it’s not the gift…”
“But the thought that counts,” the rest of us finished for her. We’d heard her say that to lots of disgruntled campers this week. While the camp had never been so energized, not everyone was a satisfied customer.
I held up a pale pink gauzy sundress and admired my tan in the mirror. Would Javier like it? My gaze fell to the wilted purple flower he’d given me. It dangled over the side of a half-filled Dixie cup perched on our window sill. He’d barely said a word to me all week, but the bloom must mean that he liked me a little. Or at least didn’t hate me anymore. It was a start.
“That’s right, ladies.” Emily’s gums flashed in a toothy smile. “And I’ve got a big gift in store for all of you!”
The cabin quieted. Emily had been dropping hints about a field trip ever since that first day.
“A rafting trip?” Jackie asked at the same time Yasmine blurted something about a local museum.
“Better!” Emily hopped around in a circle, dangly gold earrings bobbing. “I got permission from Gollum—that is, Mr. Woodrow—today, and I’m taking you all on the set of Mine Forever, the historical movie they’re filming in Waynesville!”
A movie? I almost couldn’t believe my ears. How could Emily know my secret dream of acting?
Excited talk broke out in the cabin. Piper and Siobhan seemed the most excited, but then they knew more about local history than the rest of us and the movie was based on a nineteenth-century mining incident in the mountains. That part was kind of a yawn for me. But still, it was a movie. Filmed here.
Then Emily hopped up and down more.
“And you haven’t heard the best part.” She looked out the cabin door, as if she was worried someone would overhear. Then, leaning back in, she lowered her voice. “I think we’re all going to be extras!”
“Extras?” Now this was getting good. Really, really good. Before I got too excited though, I pressed for clarification. “Like we’ll be in the movie?”
“That’s the plan!” Emily squealed.
I wondered if my parents would notice me if I was on the big screen. Would news of this trump their Twitter feed?
Distracted, I missed some of the discussion, although I did overhear something about having to get permission forms faxed from our parents if we wanted to attend. As if anyone wouldn’t go. I’d probably have to forge a document if I wanted that to happen since Mom and Dad were halfway to Honduras by now. Still, I had to try to reach them.
“Okay, settle down, ladies!” Emily called over the din. “I’m not sure how many other counselors are taking their kids—let alone how many are going to help their kids be extras with mad skills like this.” She moonwalked a few steps and spun in a circle, showing off her moves. “Not everyone is a fly chick like me, right, girls?”
A fly chick?
While we puzzled out another Emily-ism, she sighed.
“Never mind. Just keep the news on the down-low.” She smiled at me. “Now let’s see what Alex got.”
I’d forgotten about my present in the rush of news. I zippered my dress, twined my damp hair into curls, and picked up the present. A loud rip sounded in the hush as I tore the brown paper loose. My friends crowded around me.
Wouldn’t it be cool if I’d gotten the fictional version of that movie that was being filmed—Mine Forever? Not that I cared about mining, but I was curious now.
“A Girl’s Guide to Growing Up,” I read aloud, then frowned. What. The. Hell. Of course it was nothing remotely cool. “This is written for, like, ten-year-olds.”
“That’s a mean gift.” Piper turned up our window fan. Its blades stirred the humid air but did little to ease the heat or my irritation. I sprayed a cloud of hairspray to tame my frizz, wishing I hadn’t opened the present in front of an audience.
“It’s even nastier than the bottle of Midol Hannah got,” giggled Piper as she knelt and knotted her sandals’ hemp strings.
The mention of Hannah distracted me from the dumb gift. “Hey, did you guys notice she’s got something going on with Julian?”
“Hannah?” My cabin mates all chorused at once. Well, all but Yasmine who didn’t have the long history with the Divas’ Den girls that we did.
“Yeah. I think they’re like…a couple or something.” It sounded strange to say, but that’s the vibe I’d gotten when they’d exchanged looks at the bonfire.
Trinity shrugged. “The Divas’ Den girls aren’t so bad anymore.”
They’d had their moments at the end of last summer when they’d awarded us the dance trophy after a tie. It had been cool.
“The jury’s still out on that one.” Jackie snorted and swiped on deodorant. “And no matter who Hannah is with, I say the Midol is good for her. She’s always P.M.S.ing.”
“For her.” I held up the book. “But what about my present? I’m sixteen, not ten.”
“Act your age, not your
shoe size,” Emily sang in a falsetto that halted our conversations. She laughed and threw her hands up. “Sorry. Random Prince reference.” Her eyes met our blank stares. “You know—the Artist Formerly Known as Prince?”
We shook our heads, clueless as ever about most of what Emily said.
“The ’80s pop star?” Emily’s brow wrinkled. “Anyone?”
Our eyes met one another’s, and then we nodded—our trademark way of dealing with Emily-isms without hurting her feelings.
Siobhan’s bunk squeaked when I sat and passed the book her way. I crossed my arms and tapped my foot on the floor. Did my Secret So-Not-an-Angel think I was juvenile? Needed to grow up? Past lectures from my father echoed from ear to ear. How many times do we have to tell you, Alex? When are you going to act responsibly, young lady? Why don’t you ever listen? Only I did listen and what I heard was, “You aren’t good enough.” I popped in three pieces of gum, chewed until they were soft enough for a bubble, and blew, distracting me from the sound of his discouraging voice. It popped with a satisfying snap.
Maybe Vijay sent the Secret Camp Angel book. The more my mind turned over the possibility, the more convinced I became. He’d called me a prude and a virgin. Now this book said I was a child. It had to be him, the jerk. If Javier and I hung out tonight, Vijay would think twice about calling me immature. He’d be wishing he hadn’t treated me like garbage.
Pages rustled. “Hey, here’s a section on dealing with your first period. That could be helpful in a couple of years,” Siobhan deadpanned, her hazel eyes twinkling at me. The cabin howled, and I ground my teeth, especially when Yasmine’s belly laugh rose above the rest.
Piper grabbed the book and opened it. “This part is titled, ‘Growing Up is Normal.’”
“Not when you’re living Alex’s Wholesome Home life.” Jackie cackled, then reached for the book, beating me. “Let me see.”
“Oh, my turn next!” Trinity jumped and clapped her hands, the bells on her ankle bracelet jangling.
“Enough!” I snatched the book back from Jackie. “Do you guys have any idea how much it sucks growing up in the public eye? Every mistake out there for people to read about and judge?”
“Geez. My bad. Seriously.” Jackie squeezed me so tight the air whooshed out of me.
I caught a few pitying glances before my friends got their expressions under control. They knew how much I hated it when people felt sorry for me. “Emily, do you know who left this?”
“Can’t say.” Emily glanced up from Yasmine’s bunk where they’d been comparing nail polish designs. “That’s confidential.”
I popped a bubble so big it stuck to the slight hook of my nose. That figured. If I had a perfect ski-slope nose like Yasmine, I could blow them as big as I wanted. After unpeeling the mess, I slid into white sandals and headed for the door.
“Are we eating or what?” I grumped, more than ready to get out of the cabin.
Jackie gave the laces on her red hightops a last tug, then leaped to her feet. “Starving.”
Piper held out a bag of pistachios. “You could have my Secret Camp Angel gift.”
“That’s actually a decent gift.” Trinity peered over Jackie’s shoulder into the pistachio bag. “Wait. None of them are open.”
“So evil,” Jackie laughed. “We have to re-gift those.”
“Girls!” Emily pulled a pink Yankees’ baseball cap out of her back pocket and put it on. “That’s not in the spirit of the Secret Camp Angel.”
“More devil, I’d say.” Trinity nudged her Ouija board under her bunk.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.” Emily bit her bottom lip and rubbed the back of her calf with a foot. “It was meant to help you bond, to feel good about what is—for some of you—your last summer at Camp Juniper Point.”
A wave of nostalgia crashed over me. I glanced around the messy room, loving how Piper’s overflowing recyclable bins lined the far wall, how Jackie’s basketball was always underfoot, how Trinity’s tarot cards littered her bureau and Siobhan’s books obscured most of her comforter. I’d miss all of this. All the more reason to make this a summer I’d never forget.
My eye fell on Yasmine’s impeccable bunk, the corners tucked in, hospital-neat. Now that I wouldn’t miss.
“It is a good idea, Emily.” Yasmine pulled Emily’s ponytail through her hat’s opening. “Every day I travel with my parents, they try to teach me about gratitude and to share what we have with others who are struggling. If some of the kids at Camp Juniper Point saw the hardworking children in the countries I’ve lived in, they’d be grateful for the chance to just have fun.”
I rolled my eyes but saw only my friends’ rapt expressions as they hung on Yasmine’s words. Of course, Emily hugged her in her own display of “gratitude.” Was I the only one who felt like Yasmine clubbed us over the head with her messages of international wisdom? And what was the harm in pranks? My eye fell on the corner of the purple-and-pink spine peaking over the edge of my bunk. My book was the only exception. That was just flat-out mean. Especially if I was right about Vijay.
“In one village,” she continued, hugging her arms around herself, “the women and girls walked ten miles a day just for clean water. Here you have lakes and rivers footsteps away, but does anyone care?”
“I showed my gratitude today by swimming.” If this girl wanted to exchange wholesome, happy platitudes, I could totally go there. I heard enough of that at home. I clomped over to the mirror and borrowed some of Trinity’s pink lip gloss and mascara. After applying the makeup, I scrunched the ends of my hair to amp up the curl. “And next I’d like to eat and be grateful for the bounty of our fields.” I held out my arms like a temple priestess bestowing good will on everyone in the room. Then I quit the act and stuck out my tongue. “Everyone ready?”
Jackie snorted and shook her head. Siobhan tried to give me a scolding frown, but I could see the humor in her expression, too. Finally, I’d won a round with Yasmine, but seeing the way she silently slid into her shoes didn’t do much to cheer me.
“I’m so hungry I’m ready to eat these.” Jackie handed Piper back the pistachios. “Shell and all.”
“You shouldn’t have played that pick-up game with the Warriors, Jackie.” Siobhan scribbled something in her notebook, closed it, and stood. “You used both free periods, and now you won’t have time to get ready before the pyrotechnics show.”
Jackie smoothed her Chicago Bulls jersey, then raked a hand through her close-cropped tawny curls. “I think I look awesome.”
Everyone nodded. Jackie could wear a paper sack and she’d still look gorgeous, which was one of the reasons the boys always included her in their games—the other being she was a fierce competitor who led her team to victory nearly every time. I added a second coat of mascara, wishing I were a natural beauty, too.
We followed her out the door, my stomach twisting in anticipation. I was hungry, too—craving to see Javier. I couldn’t wait to try out my plan to get him alone. What could be more fun, and romantic, than watching fireworks together?
Alex
“Wow. This looks awesome.” I examined the steaming spinach, cheese, and chicken strips artfully arranged on a round wrap that looked kind of like a tortilla on my tray. The smell of spices filled the mess hall, making it feel more like a restaurant than camp.
“Thanks, but I can’t take the credit.” Helena added a scoop of corn on another section of my platter. “This morning’s delivery left out the ingredients I needed for the chicken potpie. I was in a panic until Javier came through. He even made dessert.”
I followed her nod and stared at the handsome boy serving up what looked like puffs of fried dough sprinkled with cinnamon. Both looked yummy. The flash of his bright smile made my breath hitch.
That smile faded when I stepped in front of him. Despite the encouraging gesture of the flower, he hadn’t said a word to me since that time together in the garden. But tonight would change all that. I’d make sure o
f it.
“Hi, Javier.” I held out my tray. “You did a great job. Dinner looks delicious. Are they fajitas?”
“Arepas, actually. A Venezuelan specialty.” He kept his eyes fixed on the cinnamon triangles and nodded. “How many do you want?”
I could have wolfed down ten. “Three, please.”
“Chocolate or strawberry sauce?” He placed the dessert pieces on my tray. Thick lashes rested on his angular cheeks, his eyes downcast as though a look at me would turn him to stone quicker than Medusa.
Just like he’d been the week we’d worked together, right up until that last amazing hour we’d spent in the garden.
“Can I have both?” Or a look from you? I thought Javier and I had found some neutral ground. Declared a truce. Gotten a little close maybe. So why was he back to giving me the cold shoulder?
“What happened to apple pie?” a familiar voice spoke behind me, making my spine stiffen. Vijay.
I shot him a death look, willing him to be quiet.
“Aren’t we supposed to eat American food on the Fourth of July?” he added.
Javier slid white containers filled with brown and pink liquid across the counter. I picked up the strawberry sauce and whirled, splashing my ex.
His puffy face twisted, his jaw clenched so tight I thought he’d break it himself. “What the hell, you little—”
“Let’s keep the line moving,” Javier barked, his forceful voice silencing whatever rude thing Vijay had been about to say.
“But I want dessert,” Vijay protested, his thick eyebrows meeting.
Javier leveled narrowed eyes at Vijay. “Looks like we’re all out of apple pie.”
Vijay’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, his skin flushing a deep plum shade. I clapped a hand over my smile to suppress a giggle that would get Javier and me in trouble again. And not just with Gollum.
Vijay jabbed a thick finger at Javier. “Watch it, man,” he growled, then marched away.
