Suddenly Last Summer #20

by Melissa J Morgan

  “Right,” Sloan said in a businesslike way, turning back to Brynn. “I think that’s an awesome idea. Let’s do it, Brynn. Get to work on that skit.”

  Brynn broke into a satisfied smile. “Awesome. I will.”

  “I have an idea,” Gaby announced, looking around.

  “Go ahead,” said Sloan, posing her pen over her pad of paper.

  “Well, when I first came to camp, I could be a little bit . . .” She paused. “Strident.”

  Alex was watching her in amazement. “Does that mean bossy?”

  “Okay, bossy.” Gaby shrugged, looking a little chastened. “But being around you guys really changed all that for me! And that one time where I lied about my brother and tried to leave camp . . .”

  Priya shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

  “It really taught me a lesson,” Gaby continued. “Since then, I’ve been such an awesome person! Don’t you agree?”

  Everyone laughed. “I would say you’ve been better,” Alyssa said cautiously.

  “Well, whatever.” Gaby made a dismissive gesture and rolled her eyes. “My point is, going to Camp Lakeview makes you nicer. Can we do anything with that?”

  Brynn looked confused. “Like, a skit?”

  Gaby shook her head. “No, nothing that complicated. More like, we’re all just really Nice and nice to each other and the people we meet . . . and then at some point, when we’re done talking to them, we could be like, ‘You see how I’m so much nicer than you? That’s because of Camp Lakeview.’ ”

  “Um,” Sloan began awkwardly. “Um, I’m not really sure—”

  “Here’s an idea,” said Tori, jumping in to save Sloan. “It seems like Camp Lakeview has meant something different to everyone. In fact, we could all probably tell a personal story of how we’ve changed since we’ve been coming here. So what if we made those stories part of the protest? We could take turns telling stories of what camp means to us.”

  Sloan nodded slowly. “I like that,” she said. “You’re so right, Tori—what better way to show people how important Camp Lakeview is than to tell them?”

  “Awesome,” Candace agreed. “I’ll start writing out my story.”

  “Me too,” agreed Alex.

  “That’s about the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard,” muttered Jenna. She was staring into her lap.

  Sloan turned to Jenna with a stunned look. “What?”

  “I mean I’ll do it,” Jenna backtracked, playing with the end of her ponytail. “No offense. But don’t you think it’s kind of . . . sappy?”

  The usually easygoing Sloan was getting a little crease of annoyance between her eyebrows. “How would you do it?” she asked Jenna.

  Jenna sighed. “Um . . . I wouldn’t,” she said honestly.

  Several people gasped in surprise. Then there was the dull murmur of people turning to each other and making under-the-breath comments. Before things could get really awkward, though, Nat spoke up.

  “Guys,” she said in a thin, stressed-out voice, “not to agree with Jenna, but . . . is this really worth it?”

  She paused, and eleven sets of eyes swung toward her.

  “I mean . . . Dr. Steve said they’d already tried negotiating with the state congress. They’ve already been turned down. What if we devote all our energy to this, spend our last two weeks working on it, and it’s still not enough?” She paused, biting her lip. “What if we still can’t save Camp Lakeview?”

  Everyone seemed to be glancing around at one another, considering Nat’s words, trying not to get sad.

  “I just worry,” Nat went on, “that we’re throwing ourselves into this to distract ourselves from the truth. That this is really our last summer. All of a sudden.”

  There was total silence for a few seconds. Everyone seemed to be thinking that through, and all the smiles and excitement from earlier seemed to drain from the room like someone had pulled a huge stopper out. Tori looked around at her friends. She knew they were all thinking some version of what Nat had just put into words. Of course they realized that the protest might not work. But somehow, to hear Nat say it out loud—it made Tori really—angry.

  “Of course it’s worth it!” she shouted, and all eyes turned to her. “Come on! Natalie! Anything that has even a little chance of saving Camp Lakeview is worth whatever we can do. Don’t you believe that? I mean what, are we too lazy to make a few signs, write a few statements?”

  A murmur of agreement went around the room. Tori realized that her little outburst had come out sounding more enthusiastic than angry, but she could tell Nat had read the anger in her voice. She turned away, picking at her sweater and staring at the wall.

  “I’m not!” Chelsea was saying. “Come on, guys, let’s work our butts off to save this place!”

  “The state congress may be powerful,” Sloan agreed with a grin, “but there’s no power greater than the power of the people! Let’s do this, guys!”

  More and more people spoke up to agree with Tori. By the time they got ready for bed, Sloan had five pages filled with ideas, and they each had individual assignments to start pulling the protest together. When they presented their ideas to Becky, she seemed pretty impressed. “I’m not promising anything, guys,” she said, biting her lip as she read over their ideas. “But I think this is worth running by one of the powers that be.”

  The girls all cheered. As they disbanded to wash their faces and change into their pajamas, Tori knew that she should feel great right now, victorious. But instead she felt awful—like something had crawled into her heart and died. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into her nightgown without talking to anyone. As she was heading back to her bunk, Tori passed Nat, who looked at her with a questioning expression.

  Tori didn’t know what to say. She walked past Nat and climbed into her bunk, pulling her sleeping bag over her head.

  chapter FIVE

  “Omigod, the greatest idea for our protest came to me in a dream last night.” Priya put down her fork and looked around at her bunkmates, all eagerly shoveling mac and cheese into their mouths. It was lunchtime the next day.

  “What is it?” asked Sloan. “I left my notebook in the bunk, but I can write it down on my napkin.”

  “Okay.” Priya paused dramatically, looking around at everyone again. “We all wear black.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Uh-huh,” Chelsea said finally. “And?”

  “And? That’s it! We wear black! Like we’re at a funeral, get it? We’re in mourning for Camp Lakeview!”

  Gaby wrinkled her nose. “Doesn’t that send the wrong message? Like, the camp is already dead?”

  Priya rolled her eyes. “If you take it literally. Jeez.”

  Sloan looked thoughtful. “Actually, I like it. I like it.” She pulled a pen out of her pocket and jotted something down on her napkin. “Black will make us look more put-together and serious. Good thinking, Priya.”

  Priya smiled, satisfied. “Anytime.”

  Becky took a sip of bug juice and cleared her throat. “Actually, guys,” she said, looking a little hesitant, “I’ve been thinking about your whole protest idea.”

  Nat felt her heart squeeze. She’d been watching the whole conversation with a feeling of dread. As much as she wanted to save Camp Lakeview, the very idea of the protest freaked her out—because if she let herself believe even for a second that the camp could be saved, that left her open to get her heart broken all over again. She hadn’t spoken to Logan once in the last twenty-four hours, but she’d been replaying their last conversation in her head nonstop since they’d spoken the night of Dr. Steve’s announcement. I might learn something Useful at soccer camp. And what would happen to them as a couple when they couldn’t be together at camp? Would their romance shut down as the buses pulled away for the last time? Would she ever see Logan after that?

  Nat gulped. The whole idea was too painful to dwell on, but she knew she had to face the future head-o
n and not distract herself with great ideas that might not lead anywhere . . . like this protest. Was it even worth trying? A big part of her was hoping that Becky would tell them right now that the protest was a bad idea. At least then, Nat would have the next two weeks to come to terms with losing Camp Lakeview—and maybe Logan—forever.

  All of the other girls, though, looked like it was Christmas morning and Becky was about to start handing out presents. “And?” Chelsea asked eagerly. “What have you been thinking?”

  Becky looked serious for a few seconds, then her face cracked into a smile. “I’ve been thinking you guys have some really good ideas,” she admitted. “And you obviously put your hearts and souls into this. I think you should run your ideas by Dr. Steve and see if he’ll support the protest and give you permission to use the buses and other camp resources. Without his help, this protest will be really hard to get off the ground.”

  Nat could barely make out the last part of Becky’s sentence with all the shrieking.

  “Omigod!” cried Brynn. “Thank you so much.”

  “This is amazing,” Sloan agreed with a huge smile. “Thank you so much for believing in us, Becky. I promise to make you proud.”

  Becky nodded. “Just do your best,” she replied. “I’ve made an appointment for you guys to see Dr. Steve at three thirty this afternoon. So you’ll probably want to work out before then who says what and how you want to present your ideas.”

  Sloan nodded. “Definitely. From this point on, we’re in crunch mode!”

  “I’ll present the skit idea!” Brynn yelled, just as Alex asked, “So should we write out a skit to perform?”

  “There’s no way,” Gaby piped in. “How could we come up with a skit good enough before three thirty? Tell you what, I can help with the skit presentation.”

  “But it was my idea!” Brynn cried.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Alyssa broke in. “How should we handle the artwork? Should we bring some to the meeting? Should we make up a sample sign?”

  “Yeah, definitely!” cried Candace at the same time Tori replied, “No, there’s no time.”

  “Guys,” Becky broke in, looking a little concerned and, if Nat was right, relieved not to be in charge of planning this presentation, “I’m going to leave you all to work this out. Dahlia and I are going to go outside to do some paperwork, okay? Just keep your voices down!”

  “Okay.” Sloan looked a little disappointed to see her counselor go but turned back to her bunkmates with a businesslike expression. “Guys. Let’s get serious. We’re going to have to work together to make this presentation work, and I think we should all be involved. So why don’t we go around and everyone can say how they’d like to help, and we can go from there?”

  Gaby looked disappointed. “All right.”

  Brynn nodded somberly. “Cool.”

  Nat was stunned when Sloan turned to her with an expectant expression. “Nat, let’s start with you. What would you like to do in the presentation?”

  Nat opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She sat up straight and tried to pull herself together. “Well . . . I . . . um . . . wow.”

  “You could talk about how camp made you humble!” Chelsea cried out. “Like you’re the daughter of this big movie star and thought you were all cool, but then—”

  “Chelsea,” Sloan said sharply, holding up her hand. “Let the girl talk.”

  Nat stared at the table in front of her, trying to think. What did she want to do in this presentation? What would be her ideal thing to work on?

  “Um . . . can I get a . . . small role?” She looked hopefully up at Sloan.

  “What?” asked Alex as the others started murmuring and turning to one another.

  “What do you mean, Nat?” Sloan asked patiently. “Why do you want a small role?”

  “I guess . . .” Nat sighed, trying to put it into words. I don’t want to get my hopes Up? But she knew she’d get creamed for that. “I—”

  “You’ve been really negative about this whole thing,” Tori cut in suddenly, an accusatory tone to her voice. “Last night, you were saying this wouldn’t work. And now you barely want to be part of the presentation to Dr. Steve!”

  All eyes turned to Nat again.

  “Yeah,” Gaby agreed, looking thoughtful. “That’s true! And you haven’t had any ideas for the protest at all.”

  Nat looked at her best friend. (Former best friend? She couldn’t tell anymore.) Before this week, Tori had been the person she counted on most at Camp Lakeview. She would never get all accusatory with Natalie, especially not in a public place like this. What was going on with Tori?

  “It’s like you don’t care if Camp Lakeview stays open,” Tori was saying now, a crease of anger between her eyes. “Is that it? Why do you want Camp Lakeview to close?”

  “I don’t!” Nat cried, and to her embarrassment, her voice cracked on the last word. She swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to regroup. When she opened them, Tori was still watching her with the same angry expression. Something snapped inside Nat. She couldn’t understand why Tori was being so mean to her, but she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. “Tori, I care about Camp Lakeview a lot. Unlike you! You were all ready to leave it for some surf camp before the big announcement.”

  Gasps went around the table. “Is that true?” Brynn asked. “Tori, you were going to leave us?”

  Tori’s face was bright red now. If she’d looked angry with Nat before, she looked furious now. “I had a private conversation with Nat about a letter I’d gotten from my cousin,” she explained tersely. “She invited me to come to surf camp with her next summer. That’s all.”

  “But you were all hyped up about it!” Nat accused. “You wanted to go, and you wanted to take me with you.”

  Everyone looked stunned. “Well, if that’s true, Tori,” Val said, “I guess this whole camp-closing thing works out well for you.”

  Tori shook her head, angry tears glistening in her eyes. “I was considering it. I hadn’t made any decisions yet.” She paused, glaring daggers at Nat. “You should talk, Natalie! You say camp means the world to you, but you don’t want to help save it, and you’re always ditching all of us supposed best friends to go hang out with your not-even-boyfriend.”

  Nat gasped. She was going there with the Logan thing? Was this seriously the same Tori who’d been her best friend these past years?

  “You’re a hypocrite, Tori!” she cried. “You’re trying to pass yourself off as all gung ho about saving camp, but you didn’t even care enough to come back Next year!”

  Tori’s eyes were cold and hard as she stared back at Natalie. “Seriously, Nat,” she said in a low voice, “how much of your big sadness about camp is about losing camp and how much is about losing Logan?”

  Nat felt like her heart might explode again.

  “Guys,” Jenna cut in finally, “let’s calm down, okay? So Tori was thinking about leaving next year. It’s not the biggest deal. People decide not to come back every year.”

  Tori shook her head. “What matters is right now. The protest. And Nat needs to step up.”

  “Maybe you need to calm down, Tori,” Nat retorted. “Since if the protest doesn’t work and camp closes, that’ll just give you an excuse to do what you wanted to do in the first place.”

  Angry murmurs ran around the table.

  “Seriously, though,” Jenna spoke up, raising her voice to get heard. “Seriously, though! How many of you guys were coming back next year even if the camp stayed open? Be honest.”

  The table grew quiet. Everyone turned to everyone else, looking, it seemed to Nat, for traitors. She looked at Tori, long and hard.

  But Tori was now stubbornly staring in the other direction.

  The tension at the table was thick, and Nat felt both eager for someone to cut it by speaking up and scared that if someone did admit they might not have come back next year, it would turn into a riot. She felt like all of her friends were in the emotional red
zone: waaayyyy too keyed up over the news of camp closing to react normally to anything.

  Suddenly there was a loud whistle. Nat jumped.

  “Lunch is over!” called one of the boys’ counselors. “Everyone off to your next activity!”

  Everyone turned back to face the table, openmouthed.

  “Great,” said Sloan with a frustrated shake of her head. “We were too busy fighting over who cares enough about camp to come up with a plan to actually save it. Good work, guys.”

  Nat looked at Tori, who looked sincerely guilty. “Hey,” Tori said to Sloan, “I’m sure it will work out. We all know what we want to do. And we’ll all work our hardest on the presentation.”

  Sloan just sighed. “Everyone think about what you want to say,” she said tersely, shoving her napkin into her pocket. “We’ll probably have a few minutes waiting for Dr. Steve.”

  As they all got up and started heading off to their activities, Brynn put her hand on Sloan’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “Think Tim Gunn. We’ll just ‘make it work.’ ”

  Sloan smiled warily. “I sure hope so.”

  Nat was walking toward the lake with her towel slung over her shoulder when her vision darkened, a pair of warm hands covered her eyes, and she smelled the familiar cozy boy smell of her favorite boy in the world: Logan.

  “Guess who,” he said from behind her, making a pathetic attempt to make his voice high and girly.

  Nat felt herself smiling for the first time in what seemed like weeks. “Um . . . Mary-Kate Olsen?”

  “Guess again.”

  “Amy Winehouse?”

  He made a buzzer sound. “Nope! Hello, she’s British.”

  “Hillary Clinton.”

  “Oh, boy.” Logan sighed a big, showy sigh and used his normal voice again. “You know what? I’m going to help you out here. Who has two arms and two legs, a bunk of little kids to care for, and adores you?”

  Nat felt her stomach turning liquid at that last part. “Um . . . Dr. Steve?”

  Logan laughed, dropping his hands and spinning Nat to face him. “Oh, man. Is there something going on between you two that I don’t know about?”