by Jen Calonita
"Yeah, but isn't that just clips of everything you've done during the year?" I wanted to know. "Maybe ours could be like a camp yearbook -- camp heartthrob, camp flirt, camp crush. We could make it really funny and have interviews and everything. Nothing mean," I stressed.
"I don't like it," Ashley said, flipping through her magazine. "If we're on camera, then no one gets to see me actually perform. That's my favorite part."
I could see I was losing her and I knew I couldn't. It was my last chance to fulfill Hitch's punishment, and get out of confinement. So that's when I said the words that I knew would click: "I'll videotape and you can be the show's star. You'll be the host. Like Tyra Banks on America's Next Top Model. You are the one with the acting experience."
I was finally speaking Ashley's language, and her eyes popped wide open in recognition. "That could work, if we did it my way," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe we could do a camp reality show like My Super Sweet 16 or The Real Housewives of Orange County!" Her eyes were darting around the sad-looking room. "Ooh, mine would be so much better. MTV would pick it up in a hot second because I'll look amazing on camera!"
"Anyway," I interrupted, "if we get out of confinement today and Hitch likes our idea, then we still have two days before the talent show to go around camp filming things. We just need to get permission from your dad first." I grabbed a pad from a nearby table and started writing notes furiously.
This video could actually be -- dare I say it -- fun. Ashley seemed excited too.
"I have to figure out what I'm going to wear on camera," she said. "I need something that will really bring out my eyes." She stood up and started pacing the room. "I might have to borrow something from Gabby so that no one has seen my outfit before. I'll definitely need to wear more makeup. Oh! And I want to do good interviews, you know? I'm not interviewing just anybody," she insisted. "If this is going to work, I need a big story. I'm not interviewing Mrs. Morberry about her years of Pines service. I want a story with juice."
A story with juice. That was it! Ashley was a genius. I couldn't believe what I was about to say.
Ashley frowned, her bottom lip curling into an Angelina-worthy pout. "Are you writing any of my suggestions down? Just because I'm the star of this project, doesn't mean I don't get any say on the production, you know."
I cut her off. "I completely understand. You can have a ton of creative control. But there is one story I have in mind that you have to do. Everyone will be talking about it. It's juicy," I added, knowing that would do the trick.
"What is it?" Ashley asked, her smile getting bigger by the second. She folded her skinny legs under her. "Spill it."
I took a deep breath. This had to work. If it didn't, I was out of options. And time. The talent show was just a few days before camp ended. "I'll tell you everything you need to know for the interview," I said, "but you have to listen and for once, you have to promise not to interrupt till I'm done."
When Hitch stopped by the isolation bunk later on and heard our pitch, he thought it was brilliant. He stressed we needed to keep the story PG so that the peeps could watch, but beyond that, we could interview anyone we wanted. And after that, we were free. Walking out of the cabin and into the open mountain air never felt so good. Starving, I headed right up to the mess hall to see if I could beg Beaver for an early dinner. I was steps from the porch when I saw Mrs. Morberry trying to flag me down.
"Samantha! You have a phone call on the main line," the older woman said frantically. "It's your mother. She said it's urgent. I said I'd find you. I'm glad I didn't have to go far to look because this leg is killing me."
I hadn't had a call all summer. I'd called Mom when we'd been allowed to phone home, but she'd never called here looking for me. Did Hitch tell my mom about the food fight after all? If so, it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.
I followed Mrs. Morberry a few yards away to the main office and stepped inside the air-conditioned cabin. She pointed to her desk phone. "I'll give you some privacy," she said, and headed into the other room to heat up her dinner. The smell of her lasagna leftovers made my stomach growl.
"Hello?" I said, holding the phone as far away from my ear as I could so that Mom's yelling didn't shatter my eardrum.
"Sam? It's me!"
Wait a minute. That didn't sound like Mom. "Mal?" I whispered.
"Yes, it's me, silly," she said. "This is the only number I could find for camp. I wasn't sure they'd get you if I said I was a friend, so I said I was your mom."
Just hearing Mal's voice was comforting, like my favorite fleece blanket that I always wrapped myself in at home while I was watching American Idol. Any thoughts of being mad at her for betraying our video secrecy to Mark went flying out the window. This was my best friend on the line, and I needed her. "More than okay," I whispered as Mrs. Morberry walked back into the room.
"I'm going to eat outside on the porch," she told me. "Just hang up when you're done."
I nodded and waited till she'd let the door slam behind her to continue. "Thank God you called, Mal; I've made a huge mess of things up here."
"I knew something was wrong!" Mal said, her voice jumping the way it did whenever she got excited. Usually it was over a picture of Johnny Depp or a viewing of The Notebook. "I haven't gotten a video from you in weeks. That's why I hunted you down. I thought something had happened to you."
That made me feel guilty, and even though I knew my time was limited, I had to speak my mind. "About that," I said slowly. "There is a reason I haven't sent you another video."
"What do you mean?" Mal asked, sounding surprised.
"At first, it was because I was mad about your last video," I explained. "It was so short, which mine never were, and on top of that you showed it to Mark. I thought our messages were sacred."
"I'm sorry about the tape," Mal apologized. "I felt guilty as I was taping it. I knew it was short, but Mark was always around and I didn't want him to hear everything I had to say. How could I talk about him suffocating me when he was there? It's so annoying, Sam!" She groaned. "He wants to spend every single second together, even if he's just playing Rock Band and I'm watching. I told him I needed time to do something alone, but when he didn't get the hint, I let him be part of it. But when I mailed it to you, I instantly regretted it. I knew I was breaking our friendship code. Anyway, after a few more weeks of Mark being all over me, I'd had enough. We're kind of on a break," she told me.
Cole would never be that kind of boyfriend. He was too self-reliant. But I didn't tell Mal that. It would just bum her out if I told her how cool the guy I met was compared to her suck-the-life-out-of-you boyfriend. But in a weird way, maybe it was good that Mal had that experience. Her and Mark being attached at the hip was kind of the way she and I were pre-Malomark. Too much togetherness is never good. You have to stand on your own two feet.
"I'm sorry about Mark," I said. "And I shouldn't put this whole tape thing on you. It's my fault for promising to send you so many. I was killing myself trying to get the tapes done and I really didn't have the time. I missed you, but I was enjoying camp and things were so busy that I got tired of sneaking off during my rare free time to send you a video."
"You should have said something," Mal pointed out. "I had no idea you were so busy."
"I know," I admitted. "I guess I realized there's nothing wrong with having fun separately."
"Yeah, but I like doing stuff together too," Mal said, sounding slightly hurt. "I thought you did too."
"I do," I said quickly, "but sometimes, well, I have a confession to make." I had to tell her the truth. "Sometimes I do things because you want to do them. Like kickline. I don't want to be a Rockette. I like cheerleading. So maybe I do cheerleading and you do kickline and that's okay."
The other end of the line was silent. "You're right," Mal said finally, her voice quieter than it was before. "I had no idea I was being so demanding. It didn't even occur to me that maybe you'd want to do something else. You never say anyt
hing."
"That's going to change," I promised. "I'm going to tell you if I don't want to do something. I'm not going to be afraid to try new things alone. I think I learned something about myself this summer -- figuring things out on my own can be kind of scary, but it's also kind of fun." I filled Mal in a little bit on the sleepaway girls and about Cole and Hunter and the drama of the last week and Ashley and my talent show plan.
"I cannot believe you started a food fight!" Mal giggled. "Neither of us can stand Patty Prince and her snide comments on the lunch line, but you've never thrown orange juice at her. Why haven't we thought of that before?"
I couldn't help but laugh. Quietly, of course. If Mrs. Morberry didn't hear me, maybe she wouldn't realize how long I'd been on the phone. "I've definitely become braver on this trip," I added.
"I can tell," Mal agreed. "I think camp suits you -- even if I do miss you like mad. Having Mark as my sidekick this summer just wasn't the same thing as having you here. There is no way I'm going to let you go back to that place next year!"
We both laughed again. Mal because she was being funny, and me because deep down I knew I couldn't imagine spending my summer anywhere but at the Pines. I was starting to understand why Grace marked the days till the first day of camp on her school year calendar. And why Court traveled two thousand miles from home to sleep on a lumpy mattress. But I didn't need to say that to Mal. Not now anyway. I was coming back to camp next year, no matter what. But instead of saying that, I asked Mal something I knew she could answer. "So what do you think about my plan for Cole?"
"I'm so proud of you, Sam," she said. "You sound so sure of yourself for a change. I think if Cole hears what really- happened, he'll forgive you. If he doesn't, he's an idiot."
"Sam?" Mrs. Morberry interrupted us. "I'm sorry, but I have a newsletter to get out before dinner."
"Mom, I'm sorry, but I have to go," I said regretfully. "I miss you and I can't wait to see you in a week."
"Hang in there, Sam," Mal told me. "If anyone can clean up this mess, you can. I'll see you soon. Good luck!"
I hung up, thanked Mrs. Morberry for patching "Mom" through, and headed to the mess hall for some grub. For once, I felt ready to take on the world.
20 The Talent Show
I could smell Ashley's perfume before I saw her. "Hey," she addressed me stiffly as we waited backstage at the Pines Theater for the talent show to begin. Even though our show entry was a video and not live, Ashley was dressed as if she was presenting at the Oscars. She was wearing a black mini dress, her blond hair was swept up into a chignon, and she even had on a camp first -- heels. I guessed it was easy to look good when your actual bedroom and full wardrobe were only minutes from camp property, not two hours away. I, on the other hand, was "dressed up" in jeans and my nicest shirt -- a pink fitted American Eagle polo and matching flip-flops that had rhinestones on them.
"Did you go over the sound check with my dad?" Ashley asked me impatiently.
We were never going to be friends, but over those last few days, we somehow managed to make our tape without killing each other. Everyone we wanted to interview said yes, and agreed to stay mum till the video aired, so we'd been pretty busy. Busy enough to keep my mind off Cole.
I'd managed to avoid him -- and Hunter -- till that night. But that didn't make me any less nervous about what was going to happen. I knew they were both on the other side of the curtain, sitting with the peeps, waiting for the show to start, and just the thought of that made me want to throw up. Once they saw our video, things between the three of us were going to change, and I only prayed it was for the better.
"I took care of everything," I told Ashley soothingly. "Your dad knows we're going to introduce the clip and then they'll start it. He said we show the relationships in a PG way and it's okay for the peeps to watch."
Ashley gave me the once-over and her lip curled into a frown again. "You're going to change before we go out there, right?"
"Nope," I said simply. "Not all of us had our spring fling dress with us."
She gave me a disapproving look. "You're going to so clash with my outfit, but I guess the production person isn't supposed to look as good as the star." Ashley was taking her newest star turn quite seriously. She thought she was Diane Sawyer and I was just a lowly P.A. sent to do her drudge work. She gave her chignon a quick pat and walked away. "Gabs!" she yelled. "Gabs! Where are you? I need a quick touch-up on my makeup!"
Gabby came clomping over in cowboy boots, short-shorts, and a white tailored guy's shirt tied at her toned waist. All that was missing was a cowboy hat. "CIW?" she said, which after weeks of Gabby-speak, I knew meant can it wait? "We're on in six," Gabby added. She tossed Ashley a jumbo-size makeup bag, which looked like it was ready to burst open, and left Ashley standing there.
I turned away so she couldn't see me laugh, and that's when I saw him. Cole.
He was backstage talking to three of his peeps, who were performing in the show. I could feel my breath begin to shorten at just the sight of him in a collared shirt and khaki Docker shorts, his hairy extra wavy. When he looked up and caught me staring, my breathing stopped completely. I managed to somehow give a casual wave, knowing I wouldn't get one back.
But Cole did wave back and even went so far as to mouth the word hey. For some reason that made me feel guilty all over again and I quickly turned away.
"You'd think someone no longer being held hostage would look happier," Grace said as she, Court, and Em approached me. The three of them were dressed just like Gabby, except they were already wearing their cowboy hats. They looked like they were competing on Dancing with the Stars. From the looks of it, they could actually win. Grace looked over my shoulder and saw Cole. "Don't stress," she said.
"When the show is over, you'll have a ton of chances to talk to him," Court added, glancing in the same direction as Grace.
Em took a puff of her inhaler. "Can we worry about this after the show?" she asked. "No offense, Sam, but at the moment, I can barely walk and talk, I'm so nervous."
"Why?" I asked. "You've done the talent show before."
"Yeah, but never in something like this," Em said, and fiddled uncomfortably with her tied shirt.
Court grabbed Em's firm belly and shook her. "Who knew Em had abs like that hidden under her J.Crew tees?" Court asked. "When Dylan gets a load of her onstage, he's going to flip."
Em shooed her away. Her face was bright red. "I could kill Gabby for picking out this outfit." Even though Em lived and breathed romance novels full of twisted love triangles, betrayals, and torrid love affairs, actually talking about her own love life obviously freaked her out. "What about you, Sam?" she said, changing the subject. "Are you ready to prove the haters wrong?"
"There are no haters," Grace said firmly. "Especially not now, after my team won Color War and during my speech I told everyone that the Pines was lucky to have someone like Sam Montgomery on staff."
"Thanks," I told Grace, "but the truth is, I am a source of hot gossip at the moment. Ashley's and my 'friendship' has become a sensation worthy of YouTube worship."
Grace smirked. "Well, I guess some people are talking about you. Everyone wants to know what's on your video."
"So do I," said Court. "Can't you tell us what's on it? We're your friends!"
I laughed. "I promised Ashley I'd stay sworn to secrecy till the big reveal." Our reel was so hush-hush that even Hitch agreed to not play it during our dress rehearsal. Ashley wanted it that way so that she could get people talking. I wanted it that way so our final interview would air for the first time in front of the whole camp. I just hoped I had made the right decision.
"I can't believe you and Ashley have a secret together," Em marveled.
"As Gab would ask, 'Are you BFFs?'" Grace joked.
"I don't think we'll be doing any future productions together," I said as the group of us watched Ashley berate a marshmallow assigned to lighting. "But this one came out pretty well. I think. I hope." I sighed. "Th
ere's a lot riding on it."
"That's why you should tell us what it's about!" Court complained. "If you're going to use the video camera, you could at least explain what's on the tape. She's not going to join the sleepaway girls, is she?"
"No way!" I said indignantly. "That's just ours. Speaking of which, if we can get Meg to give us back the camera permanently, we should tape a final installment before we go home. She still says I can only have the camera for the talent show."
"Go home," Grace repeated, her voice shaky. "I can't even think about it."
"Well you should," Court pointed out. "It's just a few days away."
"GOOD EVENING, CAMPERS!" I heard Hitch yell into his megaphone. He had just taken the stage. "I'd like to welcome all of you to our annual talent show!" Cheers rocked the room. "Our first act is the boys from 6D doing a Frank Sinatra medley!"
"We better get in position," Court told the girls. "We're on next."
"Good luck," I told them as a camper next to us burst into tears because she kept messing up the steps to her Bazooka Gum dance. The whole backstage area had gotten more chaotic since Hitch's announcement. I strained to see Cole, but I didn't know where he'd gone. Hopefully he was back in the audience, where he belonged.
The auditorium had been semi-transformed since the day of the counselor hunt. Most of the acts had a background, made out of cardboard or plywood, that could be slid onstage before their performance. The scenery wasn't as professional-looking as the ones we used for Carle Place High shows, but that was mainly because so many different people had worked on the backdrops. Everyone was able to audition for the show -- from peeps to CITs (counselors performed too, but they didn't have to audition) -- so the level of art skills varied depending on the age of the camper. Some of the peeps had done nothing more than paint large, sloppy flowers on a big piece of paper that was pinned to a curtain.
Once the boys of 6D took the stage, the show moved along quickly and I barely had time to freak out. Our bunk's number was a huge hit, getting the most applause by far, and I wasn't sure if it was due to Court's tricky choreography or Gabby's wardrobe choices, but either way, I could tell Ashley was less than thrilled they did so well without her direction. Cole's peeps did an adorable magic act, bringing Mrs. Morberry onstage to saw her in half, which got a lot of laughs. The girls of 8A did some kind of hula dance, I guess as an ode to the upcoming dance with the same theme. Some of the marshmallows put together a rock band and played instruments that were surprisingly in tune. The biggest hit of the night though was when some of the guy counselors and CITs got onstage to do a karaoke version of the Jonas Brothers song they were sick of all the girls singing that summer. I thought Court was going to pass out when Donovan sang Joe's parts. After the girl counselors -- minus the CITs, who were all in the show already anyway -- finished their skit on "what counselors do when they have time off," it was finally time for Ashley and me.
