by J. K. Rock
“Please say Javier is not in trouble.” Those were my first coherent words. “This is all my fault.”
Javier started to speak, but Gollum interrupted.
“My hands are tied here.” He toyed with his whistle as he sat on the edge of his desk. “I honestly would have preferred if we could have handled this at camp, but this situation has become as much a problem for the camp administration as it is for you.”
Even now, I noticed his old-fashioned desk phone blinked with messages or calls or whatever it was that made those phones’ buttons light up.
“Alex, your parents are leaving Honduras as soon as possible. They wish to speak to you in person to decide the next course of action.” He cleared his throat a few more times, and I just knew my father had raised holy hell with him, probably threatening a lawsuit.
Yeah, that was easy to picture.
“I will make sure they know Camp Juniper Point isn’t to blame for this.” I tucked my dripping hair behind one ear. “I promise you, I take full responsibility for this. But what about Javier?”
Gollum’s eyes went to Javier, and something passed between them I couldn’t interpret. Whatever it was, it made Javier put his head down for a second. He closed his eyes and nodded as if he already understood.
“What is it?” I blurted, the tension so thick I could choke on it.
“Mr. Kovalev was well-aware of the stakes for another infraction.” Gollum cleared his throat and turned the computer monitor away from us. “I’m sorry, son, but the social services department was very clear when I signed off on you that you had to follow all employee rules. They’ve already seen the video and contacted me with concerns about your lack of supervision. I’m to fill out an official report explaining that you behaved inappropriately with a camper, ignored direction to be in either your cabin or at the approved nightly activity, and used an unoccupied facility without permission. You’re a good kid, and you’ve worked hard. I wish things had turned out differently, but my hands are tied.”
Javier nodded again. Accepting. Quiet. How could he just accept that B.S. excuse?
“You can’t kick him out.” Anger evaporated my tears. “I kissed him! He had nothing to do with—”
Javier laid a hand on my forearm. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. You’re not going to some group home with people who don’t even know you or care about you.” I couldn’t believe he wasn’t arguing his case. I looked back to Gollum. “He’s brought so much good to this camp. The cooking. The garden. Helping figure out Vijay’s problem, which no one else here even acknowledged.”
“I agree, and for what it’s worth, I will note every positive change I’ve witnessed in Javier when I file my reports. But I can’t ignore what’s happened here.” The camp director frowned down at some papers on his desk. “Word will spread quickly and I can’t—I won’t—misrepresent the truth. Transportation will arrive to bring you to your new home on Sunday, Mr. Kovalev.” Gollum stood, and even though he looked genuinely disappointed about the whole situation, it didn’t change the fact that he was going to screw Javier over.
“I can’t believe this,” I whispered to myself. “I can’t freaking believe this.”
“It’s all right.” Javier looked so calm. Not defeated, exactly. But like he’d already moved on and left camp in his rearview mirror.
How could he have a temper all summer and then not fight when it counted most? I tried to plead with my eyes, but he shook his head at me.
Gollum cleared his throat. “As for you, Alex, I’ll let you know if I have any advance notice from your family, but your mother hoped to arrive Friday evening. You can continue participating in your activities until we decide how to proceed.”
“What about the play, Mr. Woodrow? Can Alex still direct? I know a lot of kids are counting on her.” It was the most Javier had said since we’d come into the office.
But what did skit night matter now? I shook my head, thinking about how much I’d wanted to produce the skit and prove myself as a director. For what? And to whom? I’d be more famous for a lip-lock caught on tape than anything I did with the play.
Gollum frowned.
“It doesn’t matter.” I stood, my legs not quite steady.
“I think you should honor that commitment.” Gollum’s eyes were surprisingly kind. “The other campers are really looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with, and for myself, I think it would be good for the camp community to remember the message of West Side Story.”
“I won’t do it without Javier.” I folded my arms. I thought all the fight had drained out of me, but something rallied inside me now. “If he doesn’t do this—”
“That will be fine, Ms. Martineau. Javier can join the cast on Friday.” Gollum clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck to you both.”
He strode out of the office and held the door for us to follow him. Javier gave him a nod, a man-to-man thing that bugged me since Gollum had just singlehandedly consigned Javier to a group foster home. Who knew what kinds of troubled kids he’d be living with?
I stumbled out of the administration building into the sunlight.
“You want some breakfast?” Javier asked.
“I lost my appetite.” I felt so empty inside. I wanted to go somewhere and just cry. Nearby, I heard the hum of voices in the mess hall and the clatter of trays on the tables as kids sat down with their meal.
Familiar sounds. The sounds of summer.
I breathed in the pine-scented air and knew I’d miss this place so much. Not for a second did I think my parents would let me stay after their ominous “visit.” Javier and I would both go back to lives we resented. Only his would be much, much worse than mine.
“Come on.” Javier gave me a lopsided grin and pulled me through the trees toward the lake. “The good thing about being kicked out of camp is they can’t punish me with anything worse.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Guess I can get away with anything now.”
Following him blindly, I knew he was trying to make me smile, but instead his warm-hearted charm just made me want to sob even more.
“You belong here.” I hugged him, fast and hard. “I’m so sorry I got you into trouble. I feel like I’m always saying that, but it’s always true.”
“Stop.” He halted in the middle of the trees on a small hilltop. The water glistened less than a hundred yards away. “Don’t you dare apologize to me for anything.”
“I got you into trouble the minute you set foot in this place, and I just keep on making things worse, even though you’ve tried to tell me and tried to tell me—”
He kissed me. Caught my lips with his. Covered my words. I lost my train of thought. Frustration sighed out of me until I felt a soft, languid sweetness steal over me. I knew it was fake and fleeting—just the kiss at work on my biology—but still…he kissed the anger away until it was a smaller knot inside of me instead of a red cloud that covered my whole body.
When he eased back, his brown eyes looked straight into mine.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
My heart caught tight. I shook my head.
“No.”
“Yes.” He held both my hands. His work boots straddled my flip-flops. We stood that close. “This summer, however short it’s been, was amazing.”
“But now you can’t be with your mom when she’s released. You said you both had to have good behavior for her to regain custody.” Even if Javier didn’t understand how much I’d messed up, his mother would. I’d hurt her unforgivably. “You won’t turn eighteen for six more months.”
“Still, I made the choices, Alex. I chose to kiss you, and I don’t regret it. I’m in control of what happens to me. And I’m responsible for myself. Bam-Bam taught me that. It’s the reason why I kissed you when I got back. I didn’t want to waste another minute worrying about what other people thought.” He touched his nose to mine, his eyes so close I could feel the brush of his lashes against my forehead.
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“I’m so sorry you were embarrassed in front of tons of people and it made trouble with your parents. But for my sake? I wouldn’t change one thing about what’s happened between us.”
My heart ached and ached. His words seeped deep into me, but no matter what he said, I wished I could turn back time. I shook my head sadly.
“Look.” He pointed toward the beach where Siobhan and Rafe were holding hands. “Your play brought them together.”
I squeezed his hand tight, grateful to him for trying to cheer me up. He had no way of knowing it was an impossible task.
“It’s going to be the best damn skit ever,” I sniffled.
“Everything will work out, Alex, you’ll see. The scene will be a hit. And you’re going to be a star at the boarding school just like you are here.”
“Yeah, right,” I muttered, punching him lightly in the arm. “Can’t you see the disaster I’ve created? The fallout from that video is going to be crazy.” I knew he’d have some kind of record from foster care. Going to a group home wasn’t like going to juvie, but it would be noted somewhere in some caseworker’s files forever. Not exactly what college admissions offices wanted to see…if he wanted to go to college. But if he didn’t, what would happen to Javier?
“Give us credit. We’re tougher than that.” He reached down to pick a spindly violet from the base of a pine tree. “I want you to pack that glitter letter A of yours and hang it in your dorm room at school. Claim your territory. It’ll make me happy to think about that when…”
“Sure.” I was being selfish. He was being so strong, picking me up while I complained and cried about stuff we couldn’t change. “I will. We both will. Make the best of it.”
Javier nodded. The noise level nearby increased as the mess hall doors opened and kids started flooding out onto the flagstone paths to their next activities.
We headed back toward our friends, not bothering to hold hands now. I guess we both knew there was no point. We’d be leaving on the weekend. Would probably never see each other again.
And although we’d try to make the best of it, I’d screwed up more than ever before. I didn’t need my parents to tell me. It was as clear as the strong, silent boy walking beside me.
I’d known I’d get him into trouble from day one and had cared too much about getting back at Vijay to worry about it. I never guessed it would hurt so much.
“Alex!” a shout from the exiting mess hall crowd caught my attention while Rafe and Julian jogged over to Javier.
Emily waved at me while snippets of conversations peppered my ears.
“…parents picked him up.”
“…can’t believe he was taking drugs.”
“He was a lot smaller a year ago, remember?”
The gossip—obviously about Vijay—ticked me off as I moved through the crowd. Weird since I’d spent so much time hating him. But I’d had a reason to be upset with him and that reason didn’t matter anymore.
“Alex!” Emily pounced on me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Mr. Woodrow asked me to find you. He said your mom’s calling him back in a few minutes and wants to talk to you. Can you hustle over to his office?”
“My mother?” I could envision her now, her iPhone in hand, checking her blog’s page views while updating her Twitter stream and simultaneously dialing the number for Camp Juniper Point. “Maybe she needs some quotes from me for a blog on disciplining a rebellious teen.”
“Hey! Someone needs to march back to the Kindness Cup for a refresher course.” Emily squeezed me tight before letting me go. “I’m sure she’s just worried about you.”
Um. Sure.
“Thanks, Em.” I hurried away, not wanting to miss the call. All that anger I was feeling now had the perfect outlet.
I might suck at archery, but this was one target I wouldn’t miss.
Racing through the trees toward the director’s office where I’d been crying just a short while ago, I knocked on the closed door.
“Come in!” Gollum answered.
“Hi. I came because…” I stopped when I noticed he was on the phone.
“Here she is now.” He stood behind his desk and passed the phone so fast it could have been a hot potato. “Your mom,” he stage-whispered and stalked toward the door. “Just close the door when you’re done. I’ll be just outside.”
It seemed like a lot of equipment to trust me with, but then, I wasn’t a first-year camper and he wouldn’t be far away. Grateful for a little privacy, I picked up the heavy handset.
I drew a deep breath, tension coiling in my chest. “Mom?”
“Alex, I’m coming to camp—”
“So I’ve heard.” My heart thumped hard as I paced the tiny office. “I’m sure Dad couldn’t wait for a reason to yank me out.”
“Actually, your father—”
“Whatever,” I cut her off and stared out the window at a couple of skipping, junior campers. “It’s time we talked about what’s bugging us instead of pretending to be a happy, Wholesome Home family.”
“I agree.”
Ignoring her, I plowed ahead, dodging the corner of the desk as I walked around it. “While you’ve been resenting me for being such a sorry excuse for a daughter, I’ve resented you. You used me as your token problem child since the moment I turned two and knocked over Gram’s orchid.” When my brother had been a kid, they’d blogged about the joys of helping his growth and development. As for me, I’d spawned a whole new archive category called “Toddler Messes.”
“Alex.” Mom’s voice turned stern. Clearly she wanted to take over the conversation. But didn’t she always?
“No. Listen to me.” I pounded my fist on Gollum’s desk, making a framed photo of Mrs. Woodrow jump. “I’m tired of being the problem child. Don’t deny that posts about my mistakes have been way more popular than blogs about Andrew. You think I haven’t noticed that the columns about me get more hits? My kiss with Javier will probably spawn a whole new book deal for you. So…you’re welcome.”
Something wet hit my hand, and I realized it was a tear. Another splotch joined the first.
“Alex, I—”
“You what?” I sobbed, then didn’t give her a chance to answer. What could she say that would make anything better? “One of these days I’ll be famous on my own…and not because of that stupid blog.” I kept on talking since she didn’t even try to interrupt this time. She was probably on a whole different screen on her phone, my whiny phone call minimized to a tiny icon in the corner of the big window of her life. “Of course, you have no idea I like acting and I’m actually good at it. And you don’t have any clue that an assistant director said I might have some talent and that if I could go to New York for a few more readings, I might be able to clinch a spot at a performing arts high school in New York. I didn’t bother to tell her that—too late—my parents can’t wait to make a big, splashy deal of shipping me off to boarding school this fall.”
“We can talk about it when I get there on Friday,” Mom started, her voice soft. I wondered if she was trying to hide the conversation from Dad. Dad would probably have her hang up on me to teach me a lesson.
“I used to act out to get your attention, you know. Not the whole world’s.” I sank down into one of the metal chairs and wished Javier was still sitting in the other one. “Now, I’ve hurt someone I care about.”
“The boy?” At least, I think that’s what she said. The connection broke up. “In the video?”
“Javier.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to share anything about him with my mother, but how much more could the Martineau family hurt him now? “He came here to turn things around for himself and I messed that up so many ways…”
“I heard he’s being kicked out of camp.” In the background, I could hear what sounded like a public address system at an airport—muffled flight numbers and times spoken fast and low.
“That’s not the worst part, Mom.” I laid my forehead on the edge of the wooden desk and stared at the floor. �
��While you guys have been prancing around looking for photo-ops, Javier has been trying to stay out of trouble so he could help his mother when she gets out of jail. He hasn’t lived with her for three years, but she was finally getting out and now—” God, I hated this. “Instead of being with her for his senior year of high school, he’ll be sent to a group foster home on the other side of the state.”
“Do you know her name, Alex?” A babble of voices swelled in the background behind her.
“Her name?” I shook my head and straightened. “Sofia, I think. But you’re missing the point. Javier needed to stay out of trouble this summer to get that chance and now—”
“What’s their last name?” Mom shouted through a sketchy connection.
My anger surged. “Ko-va-lev. Have you been listening? She’s not even a criminal. She wrote some bad checks and had a hard time raising her kid in a bad economy. Javier’s been stuck in foster care. But he really turned himself around and he’s this great cook—”
“Alex, I’m boarding now and have to go, but I’ll be there on Friday. We’ll talk more then.” She hadn’t lectured me, but had she listened? At all?
I wanted to smash something with my fist. I had so much emotion welling up inside me and no place to go with it. I swallowed back some of it with an effort and took a deep breath.
“Sure, Mom.” Why did I still try getting through to her? To either of them. “See you then.”
Hanging up the phone, I snagged a few more tissues and marched out of the office. I couldn’t think about Mom or boarding school or anything else right now. Because talking about Javier’s mom made me think about a very different phone conversation I’d had with her.
She’d wanted Javier to have fun while he was at summer camp. I only had two more days before my parents swooped in to drag me home, but between now and then, I was going to make sure he got to make some camp memories. Not so much with me, but with the rest of the kids.
I was going to make West Side Scary the best, most fun and exciting production Camp Juniper Point had ever seen. And Javier was going to be the star.
