Sleepaway Girls

by Jen Calonita

I nodded as I pulled my windbreaker hood tight over my head. "See you guys in a bit."

  By the time I got to the craft cabin, I was drenched from head to toe. My coat did little to protect me from the driving rain and I was shivering. I pulled off the water-logged windbreaker and wrung it out, sending puddles all over the cabin floor. The place was thankfully deserted, but part of me was annoyed I was even here. What was I doing heading out in this weather just to shoot a lousy video? Mal hadn't sent a video yet! And I hadn't gotten any letters from my friends, except for the postcard Piper sent from Great Wolf Lodge in Pennsylvania. Nevertheless, I was here. I quickly set up my palmcorder on one of the nearby tables and started recording.

  "Hey, Mal," I said wearily. "Like my outfit? As you can tell it's raining and I got soaked sneaking out to send you this message. Anyway, I hope you're having a good summer. I'm liking it here and being a CIT is cool. I have the cutest little campers, especially this one named Mackenzie who I have to take to get allergy shots. She gets upset every time, but then Cole calms her down and she's fine. I don't know how he does it. Did I tell you about Cole?" I asked, trying to talk over the loud pattering of rain. "He's a friend of mine. He's Hunter's CIT. I already told you about Hunter, right? He's so hot, Mal, and such a flirt, but I can't help flirting back. I don't know what's come over me. You know I'm not the flirty type, but with him it's hard to resist. He's got these --"

  SLAM. I whipped around. The door to the arts and crafts cabin had been thrown open and Court, Grace, and Em dashed inside, screaming as a clap of thunder burst. Court quickly shut the door behind her. I stood there frozen, unsure of what to do.

  Court looked up and saw me. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes trailed over to my video camera. "Were you just video-taping yourself, you dork?"

  "What are you guys doing here?" I said in a high-pitched voice as I grabbed the camera and shoved it in my backpack.

  "Meg got the info wrong," Grace grumbled. "Apparently the pottery cabin roof is leaking, not this one. We had to come to class."

  "You didn't answer my question," Court prodded. "Why do you have a camera?" The three of them stared at me expectantly.

  The door burst open again and in ran a bunch of girls from 8A. They grunted hello -- our bunk was kind of rivals with theirs, especially since they're good friends with Ashley and Gabby -- and headed over to their table to dry out. Ashley and Gabby didn't sign up for this class, thankfully. They picked archery so they could hang with the boys. Today that probably meant they were inside somewhere playing charades.

  Our craft advisor, Cara, ran in behind the girls from 8A. "I'm glad to see you all made it in this weather," she said as another thunderbolt made us all jump. "I've got a fun project for you guys, but you'll have to leave it here so it doesn't get ruined."

  "Promise you won't say anything," I whispered to them as we walked to our table. "I know we're not supposed to have cameras."

  Court laughed. "Do you think I care if you tape yourself?" she whispered back. "But I am curious -- what is that thing for anyway? You're not a camp spy, are you?"

  That made me laugh. "No, I'm definitely not a spy."

  "Today we're working on scrapbook layouts for July Fourth," Cara interrupted. She started explaining the project and I pretended to listen intently to avoid Grace's, Em's, and Court's curious stares.

  When I saw the class options for older campers and CITs, I was a little surprised that arts and crafts were one of them. When I thought of arts and crafts all I could picture were glitter, glue, and lots of cotton balls. You know, grade school stuff. Kind of like the things I was making with the peeps. (They're making lanyards, popsicle-stick frames, and tie-dyed t-shirts.) But us? Cara was letting us make locker organizers for school, disco balls for our cabin, and scrapbook layouts for camp pictures.

  Within ten minutes I had placed two twelve-by-twelve-inch red papers in front of me and started cutting blue paper mats for the page. I had my title glued down: Go Red, White, and Blue! I'd even added little silver fireworks that I made with glitter pens. It looked pretty good, if I did say so myself.

  "How are you so good at this when this is your first time?" Grace grumbled. She was sitting next to me and so far all she had on her paper was a single blue paper mat that she kept moving around to find the perfect location.

  "I don't know," I admitted, "but I like it. It's very relaxing."

  "Who cares about layouts?" Court interrupted, as she shredded a piece of gold paper for her pages. "I want to know what Sam was doing with that camera." Her pages were really good. Some of the stickers on her page sort of popped off it and her title, FOURTH, was all sparkly.

  "It's no big deal," I said quickly, not looking at her.

  "Does it have anything to do with Ashley?" Court prodded. "Are you getting back at her for what she pulled the other day with your campers?"

  I had told the girls what had happened on the first day of camp and Grace was livid. Court said that last summer Grace was kind of Ashley's lackey. She followed Ashley and Gabby around everywhere and they let her because Grace was obviously so good at everything. If Grace won capture the flag that made Ashley and Gabby look good because they were on the same team -- even if they just stood there sipping their Snapples the whole time. Then Grace sided with Em instead of Ashley over the silly bathing suit incident and their friendship was done quicker than Lauren and Heidi's on The Hills.

  "It has nothing to do with her," I said.

  Court looked disappointed. "I still think you should get back at her with a raid." Her face spread into a devilish grin.

  Grace groaned and Em took a puff of her inhaler. "We're too old to do raids," Grace told her. "We have responsibilities."

  "Meg would kill us!" Em added. "She'd lock us in the counselor lounge and give us bread and water through a cracked window and..."

  The rest of us stared at her strangely.

  Em blushed. "Okay, maybe that's a little far-fetched. I was up late last night reading Housekeeper of Love and I think I might be getting those two worlds mixed up."

  "Isn't a raid when you play tricks on someone else's cabin?" I asked. Court nodded eagerly. "How would we get Ashley if she's already in our cabin?"

  Court frowned. "You've got a point. We'll have to figure out another way to get even with her. But that doesn't mean we can't pull it off! We're not going to get in trouble," Court added. "Everyone does them. It's a camp ritual!"

  Cara cleared her throat, made the quiet sign, and winked at us. Cara was really laid-back. She let us put the radio on while we worked and let us bring snacks (even though we're not supposed to). She told us that the next session had a dedicated scrapbooking class. I was definitely signing up.

  The four of us were quiet for a few minutes. You could hear scissors, glitter being poured, and paper tearing. I thought Court had forgotten about my camera.

  "You were making a video for Hunter, weren't you?" Court whispered suddenly.

  "No!" I said with a laugh. "Why would I make him a video?"

  "I don't know." Court shrugged. "Maybe you were sending him some sort of sexy message."

  Em giggled. "Sam was soaking wet. How sexy is that?" The rest of us laughed.

  "Well, I'd make one for Donovan if I had a camera." Court sniffed. "I've already talked to him four times during free swim, and he told me that he's going to college in Australia to be a veterinarian. How hot is a guy who likes puppies?"

  "Donovan has been good for you," Grace said. "I've never seen you work so hard to pass the swim test. Now you can finally go in the deep end."

  "In years past, I hated getting wet so I was content to sit on the shore and tan, but this year, I had motivation," Court said proudly. "I took swimming lessons over the winter." Court turned back to me. "You've got to tell why you have that palmcorder."

  I sighed. "You're not going to give up on that, are you?"

  Court smiled. "Nope."

  "You guys are going to laugh," I said, feeling suddenly embarrassed by my p
astime, but they all voiced some version of "no we're not!" I took a deep breath. "Okay, the truth is, I was taping a message for my best friend, Mal. You know, the girl I've mentioned --"

  "Like a thousand times already," Grace interrupted. "Yeah, we know who she is."

  I ignored her sarcasm. "Anyway, it's something we do whenever we're apart. I'm supposed to be taping her these messages almost every day telling her about camp and what I'm doing. Kind of like a diary. But I haven't had the time. That's why I lied about going to mail call. I'm so behind on all these videos I promised that I needed to get Mal's done so I can do the rest."

  "What other videos are you doing?" Em wanted to know.

  I blushed. "I promised all my friends I'd send them a video." Court opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "I didn't realize how busy we'd be! I barely have time to finish one for Mal and hers is the most important. She's going to kill me if she doesn't get one soon."

  "You're insane!" Court told me. "You do too much for that girl. And your other friends too. Have they sent you any messages yet?"

  "No," I admitted sheepishly.

  "I don't think it's so strange," Em said. "I think it's kind of cool. It's like you're making a video diary of your camp experiences, except you're sending them to someone else to watch instead of keeping the record for yourself. Oh." She frowned.

  Hmm. I never thought of it that way, but Em had a point.

  "It would be better if you kept the tapes," Grace suggested. "Then the rest of us could be on them too. I've always wanted a record of me on the high-ropes course so I could show my mom how good I've gotten."

  "And I could have a tape of myself being all super-responsible with the campers so my parents won't think I'm boy crazy, even if I really am," Court seconded.

  "But we're not allowed to have electronics at camp," I reminded them. "That's why I've been sneaking off to tape without you guys knowing."

  "Oh," Court said regretfully. The group of us were quiet again and I could hear other tables working diligently on their layouts. Scissors were working a mile a minute, I could hear glue bottles sputtering, and someone had just spilled glitter all over the floor. Cara rushed over with a dustpan.

  "You know what I like about your videos, Sam," Court said quietly, "you can tell the video your deepest thoughts and no one else has to hear them. It's sort of like confession. Or a CIT guide to camp life. Much better than the manual Hitch put together anyway. If we were really brave, someday we could sell the tapes to prospective CITs and make a fortune."

  "I'm not sure about that part, but I think we should make our own video!" Em said. "Come on, Sam," she begged me, "this could be fun. Think of it as your camp video scrapbook. What better memory could you have of your first summer here than that?"

  "I'd do it," Grace surprised me by announcing, "but only if I got my own copy to watch at home. Or at reunion. We could get together this winter and watch it together."

  "I love that idea!" Court said. "I'd save my copy to show my future kids how cool I was."

  "I'm not so sure this is a good idea," I said uncertainly. "I've never let anyone else be on the video with me. Besides, I still have so many tapes to do for my friends first."

  "That's lame." Court pouted. "You shouldn't waste your summer sending videos when you can live your summer making great tapes with us. I thought you said this summer was about you standing on your own and doing something new? This is something new."

  Court was making sense. And it did sound different. Mal never wanted to make videos with me. She just preferred if we sent them to each other when we were apart. This was something I could do with my new friends together. And did I really need to make all these videos for my other friends? They hadn't sent any, had they? I could send everyone a postcard and if they were annoyed, then tough. This was my summer and I shouldn't let it fly by because I was too busy concentrating on life at home. I looked at the girls and smiled. "Okay, if you guys are that into the idea, I guess we can try it."

  Court dove over the table and hugged me. Em did too.

  "So when do we start?" Grace asked and grabbed a piece of paper to start jotting down notes. "Do we need to rehearse first? Because I don't want to say anything goofy."

  "We can't censor ourselves," Em objected. "These tapes are our chance to blow off steam, you know? They can be our sleepaway camp confessions or something."

  "Oooh, I love that," Court agreed.

  "But to be on the safe side, we should have a code word for when we want to make a video since we're going to have to be alone to do one," Grace suggested. "We need a name that only we would understand."

  "Boy crazy?" Court suggested. Grace made a face.

  "I've got one," Em said. "What about the sleepaway girls? That's what we are, aren't we?"

  Sleepaway girls. I kind of liked that. "Works for me," I said.

  Court grinned. "Well, sleepaway girls, I have a feeling this is the start of something amazing."

  8 Fireworks

  "Ready, set, go!" Hitch yelled through his megaphone.

  On "go," Court and I started, hobbling madly. One of each of our legs was tied together, and we were making our way toward Em and Grace, who were waiting anxiously at the designated relay station.

  "Faster!" Grace egged us on loudly. "They're gaining on you!"

  My hair was whipping my face, but I managed to catch a glimpse of our competition -- Ashley and Gabby. The two of them were wearing pink pinnies, and Ashley had a look of fierce determination on her face. The pink pinnie looked great against her tan skin, while my bright green one, layered over my red Pines t-shirt, made me look like a Christmas tree in July.

  "If they beat us, I will kill you," I could hear Ashley yell at Gabby. She was pretty loud considering I could hear her over the screaming campers cheering on the sidelines.

  It was July Fourth, and all regular activities were canceled to make way for a special Fourth of July celebration. Hitch had planned a field day with races, a special barbeque dinner at the lake, and fireworks to finish the night. (What I mean is, we could see the fireworks from the lake, which bordered the town park on one side, where they were having a display.) For the game part of the day, everyone got to pick teams and then as the day progressed, we'd face different groups, partner up with younger campers, or face off against the boys. Grace said that bunks usually teamed up, but Ashley and Gabby ditched us for their friends in 8A. When Meg said our teams were unfairly balanced, the 8A team forced two sad-looking bunkmates to join us remaining 8Bs. They hadn't spoken to us all morning.

  "Move it, Sam!" Court hollered. "I'm not coming in second."

  I was hopping as fast as I could, but it was hard when you had someone else tied to you. Ashley and Gabby were inching closer and closer so I picked up speed. By this point, Grace and Em were so close I could see them sweating. Four more steps, three; Gabby and Ashley hopped closer, two more steps and --

  "YES!" Grace screamed as we reached our team first. Court and I untied the ribbon in one swift motion; Grace and Em grabbed it, tied their legs together, and headed toward our teammates from 8A.

  "What are you two standing there for?" Ashley snapped as she passed the ribbon to the next two girls on her relay team. "GO! Get them!"

  "They'll never beat Grace," Court told me confidently. "She's the fastest girl at camp."

  Court was right. Grace and Em had reached our third and final relay stop when the pink team was only halfway to theirs. We were going to win! But then -- I could see Grace barking at our teammates, but it didn't make them move any faster. One yawned. Another bent down to retie her Lacoste sneakers. Within seconds, the pink team's second leg was at the finish line and handing off their ribbon to the third group of teammates.

  "GO!" I heard Em yell. "We're going to lose!"

  "They're doing it on purpose," I realized. "They want us to lose."

  Two minutes later, we did, and Court and I stormed over to our 8A teammates. Instead of apologizing to us, they were high-fi
ving the opposite team!

  "How could you do that?" Grace demanded.

  Ashley stepped in front of them. "Can they help it if they're slow?" A few girls snickered and Ashley stared at me sweetly. "Too bad you don't get to play the guys next. Enjoy the sidelines, ladies." I held Court back.

  "We'll get them in the next round," Em declared, sounding irritated.

  Meg approached us. "Good effort, girls," she said cheerfully. We all just looked at her with raised eyebrows. Meg blushed. "Let's just try to enjoy the day, shall we? Since you guys are sitting the next round out, I thought you could help your senior counselors for a bit. What do you say?"

  "Fine," Grace said, sounding as deflated as some of the balloons that were drooping at the nearby picnic tables. Beaver and the cafeteria crew were already setting up for that night's dinner.

  "Grace, you know we're not winning a trophy for today, right?" I asked as we headed down the dusty path to meet our senior counselors. They were playing games on the great lawn. The day was just as hot as the days before -- about 95 degrees -- and the air was so thick and humid it felt like you could cut it with a knife. Whoever said Florida was hot hadn't spent the summer in the New York Catskills. I had expected it to be cooler up here than it was at home on Long Island, but it was turning out to be anything but. People told me it was a freak heat wave. Figured the year I came, that happened.

  "I hate losing," Grace grumbled. "We had her. We were in the lead and then --"

  "There's nothing we could have done," Em pointed out.

  "Maybe if some of us were less tired this morning we would have had a better chance," Grace mumbled under her breath.

  "Hey!" Court said. "I was out late on important business. Donovan and I were at the boat house listening to some of his emo-rocker ballads on his iPod after lights out and I told him I'd give him feedback. He's going to audition for American Idol this year," she added proudly.

  "You keep sneaking out like that and you're going to get caught," Em warned. "We should be saving sneak-outs for our first sleepaway girls --" She paused just in time.

  Hunter was walking toward us. I inhaled sharply. It may have been hot, but he looked cool, as usual. He was wearing a royal blue pinnie with nothing underneath, and you could see his well-defined biceps. "Hi, ladies," he said with a huge grin. "Nice pinnies." Em took a quick puff of her inhaler. "I'm in a bit of a bind." Hunter was staring directly at me. "My buddy hurt his ankle during our last round and I'm partner-less for this game. Mind if I borrow the champ?"