After Maisy ghosted me, Mom knew to change the station on the car radio whenever it came on. This was probably the first time in a year I had heard more than the opening notes.
“Come on, Bea!” Maisy ran to the center of the cabin and started doing our dance routine.
I didn’t want to listen to the song, let alone dance around the cabin to it. But Isa was looking at me and the whole key to this pact was winning Isa over. So I got up and danced.
I remembered the moves like it was yesterday because Maisy made me practice over and over again until we got it perfect. Being in the spotlight with Maisy was so bright, it was only when I stood in her shadow that things went dark. Dancing with her in the middle of the cabin made me remember what it was like to be in her light.
Suddenly, the window by Ainsley’s bed flew open. We stopped mid-move, like we were in a game of Freeze Dance.
Maisy grabbed my hand just as a huge swarm of crickets landed on the floor and filled the cabin with a deafening roar. The cricket army moved across the wooden planks closer to us.
Maisy screamed like she was in a horror movie and scrambled up the ladder to the top bunk while the other girls and I ran toward the window just in time to see the Dandelion girls sprinting away through the woods.
The crickets weren’t the only gift they had bestowed on us. There was an old white sheet fastened to the porch rails. Purple dripping paint spelled out “LOSERS!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAISY
I LEANED DOWN AND PUT MY EAR TO THE FLOORBOARD. THE CHIRP was so loud it sounded like there was a cricket in my ear.
“Here. I think it’s under here,” I said. I could be brave because there was a lot of wood between me and that cricket.
“Which means we’re never getting it out.” Bea groaned.
“I haven’t slept in two days,” said Hannah. “The chirping’s driving me insane.”
Bea dug the palms of her hands into her forehead. “I feel like these crickets have taken up residence in my brain.”
Isa jabbed a metal comb into the floorboard and groaned when it didn’t budge. “We gotta give those Dandelion girls credit for a crazy good prank.”
“Can’t believe we haven’t gotten revenge yet,” moaned Poppy.
“That’s because we’re all too sleep deprived to come up with an effective countermove,” said Bea.
“Why do the Dandelion girls hate you guys so much?” I asked.
“You know, we didn’t always hate each other,” said Poppy. “We actually all started out in one big bunk together.”
“Yeah,” Hannah jumped in. “First-year campers are in double cabins, with eight campers instead of four. You don’t compete in the tournament the first year. You just get used to going to camp and learn how to do all the events.”
“They weren’t so bad back then,” said Bea. “The A twins already knew how to kayak because they live on a lake. So, they taught us all the basics. Tinka and Isa were both fast runners even back then, so they would run all over camp together, pretending that they were training for the Cup, like the big girls. And back before Kaya started her Instagram beauty account, she was just like any other girl who’s into Lip Smackers and Bath & Body Works.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“We became each other’s biggest competitors,” said Isa. “Every summer, the tournament comes down to us versus the Dandelion girls, and I guess they’re just sick of losing.”
I thought about Bea and me and how we had gone from best friends to practically strangers overnight, and I could see how that could happen. Which meant that the M & Ms could forget all about me while I was at this stupid camp.
“They’re not the same girls we went to camp with that first summer. They play dirty and we need to come up with a good prank to let them know we’re not playing games,” said Bea.
“What if we Saran Wrap the toilet seats in their cabin?” I asked, glad Bea was focusing on how her other former friends turned on her instead of the many ways she thinks I wronged her.
Isa shook her head. “Been there, done that, when we were junior campers.”
“Shaving cream bomb?” suggested Poppy.
“They get covered in shaving cream, then take a shower. We need something bigger than that,” said Hannah.
“It’s been raining all day,” said Isa. “You’d think we would’ve come up with a prank by now since we got nothing better to do.”
I may suck at swimming and climbing ropes, and maybe I don’t even know how to kayak, but I’m good at coming up with a good prank. Addy and I played pranks on our cousins every summer when we visited them at their cabin in Maine. Maybe if I came up with the perfect revenge prank, my bunkmates would give me a real chance. I needed them to stop being nice to me just as a favor to Bea. I needed them to really make me a part of the group.
Ainsley suddenly jumped off her bunk and pulled on a yellow raincoat. “Phone block!”
All the girls grabbed their bright primary-colored raincoats and ran to the door. Standing together, they looked like a vinyl rainbow.
I stayed right where I was.
“Come on, Maisy.” Ainsley pulled her hood over her head. “You don’t want to wait ’til next week to call home.”
“My dad’s probably doing surgery now,” I said. “Maybe I should just stay here. I bet I could come up with a really good prank if I have some alone time.”
Ainsley wasn’t giving up that easy. “You won’t know if you’re dad’s hung up in surgery unless you try. Besides, I’m not allowed to leave you alone in the cabin.”
There was no way I was calling Dad. He was just gonna want to talk about her anyway.
“Why don’t you call your mom instead?” Poppy asked.
I grabbed my Lululemon rain jacket, another guilt gift from Dad. “I totally forgot. I have an appointment with Dr. Beth.”
Bea stared at me, in that lie detector way of hers, so I pretended to have problems hitching the zipper up.
“I thought she could help me get over my fear of the ropes course,” I said.
I could still feel Bea’s eyes burning into the back of my neck, so I added, “I don’t want to be the reason you lose the Cup.”
I’ve learned over the past week that all you have to do is mention the Cup and everything else is forgotten.
Isa raised her eyebrows. “Gotta give you credit for being a team player.”
Dr. Beth didn’t look surprised when I showed up, dripping water all over her office floor. She tucked her wild gray hair behind one ear and said, “Hungry?”
I spotted a Taco Bell takeout bag, so I nodded.
“Perfect timing. You can split my tacos with me,” she said.
She popped the plastic top off a supersized to-go cup and dumped half the bright orange soda into one mug, and half into another. Then she handed me the hot pink mug that said She believed she could, so she did.
If only life were that easy.
Dr. Beth pointed to the giant pillows on the office floor. “Takeout is meant to be had while being as cozy as possible.”
There was a calico cat snuggled up on one of the floor pillows. Without looking, Dr. Beth sat down on the pillow without smooshing the cat. Her white mug said Today will be awesome in glittery gold paint. She was serious about keeping her mug game on point.
“I’m so glad you’re back again, Maisy.”
“I don’t really have anything to talk about.” I sat down on the only non-cat-covered pillow and took a sip from my mug. The fizzing bubbles from the orange soda tickled my nose and woke up my mouth. “Unless you know any good camp pranks.”
“I see things haven’t changed much since I was a camper.” Dr. Beth opened the takeout bag while a black cat crawled into her lap. The calico cat hissed, but then they both settled in, one on each of Dr. Beth’s legs. The cabin was silent except for the low purring of the cats and the rain tapping on the roof.
She pulled a taco from the bag and handed it to me. I took my time u
nwrapping it. I would have to eat it really slowly if I wanted to wait out the hour-long phone block. I could tell Dr. Beth was going to try to make me talk since she didn’t hand me the laptop this time. Silence makes me really uncomfortable, but not as much as talking about my mom.
“I’m only here because I don’t want to call home,” I blurted out.
Dr. Beth fished a melted-down ice cube from her mug and held it out on her fingertip until the black cat licked it off. Then she reached back in her mug with the cat saliva finger and got another ice cube for the other cat. I tried my best not to gag.
She pulled a packet of hot sauce from the bag and squirted it all over her taco. Then she took a big bite.
She smiled like it was the best taco ever and said, “Now that is a taco worthy of an entry in my gratitude journal.”
“You don’t look like someone who eats fast food,” I said, trying to keep the conversation on her so she wouldn’t start asking me questions about my life.
“You mean, I look like I live on tofu and kale, right?” Her eyebrows raised.
“Kind of, yeah,” I mumbled.
“My husband, Jerry, and I were serious vegans for twenty years. We grew our own vegetables and bought our dried beans and tofu from the local co-op. I even made our almond milk from scratch, which, let me tell you, takes a very long time.”
She took another bite of her taco and kept talking with her mouth full. “Anyway, one day, I woke up and all I wanted was a big, fat cheeseburger. I tried to distract myself with meditation and yoga, but the craving wouldn’t go away. I went out that very day and got myself a Big Mac with supersized fries and a great big chocolate shake. It was the best damn cheeseburger I’ve ever had. So, when I’m home with Jerry, I eat lentils and kale and all that vegan stuff. But when I’m at work, I live on takeout. I figure all the junk I eat here gets canceled out by the health food at home.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I took a bite of my taco, which was amazing.
Dr. Beth laughed. “Sorry, I just gave you a big dose of TMI. Want to tell me how you ended up here again?”
“I didn’t want to call home, plus it’s raining out. So, I don’t really have anywhere to go,” I said.
Dr. Beth didn’t even flinch when a gray cat curled up on her shoulder. She just kept sipping her soda, like she didn’t have cats hanging all over her. “Back when I went to camp here, I loved to kayak, even though I tipped over all the time. I would even sneak out my kayak on days like this when it was raining cats and dogs.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thank God I failed the swim test. I don’t have to go anywhere near those death traps.”
“Something tells me you’re not a fan of the ropes course either,” said Dr. Beth.
“I would rather take a math test every day for the rest of my life than do the ropes course ever again,” I said.
She laughed and her whole body shook, cats and all. “How the heck did a girl like you end up at adventure camp?”
“It was the only camp that wasn’t sold out when my dad decided to send me away a few weeks ago. Now, I can see why,” I groaned.
Dr. Beth handed me another taco. “I have a feeling your dad is going to be hearing about sending you to this camp for many years to come.”
“My mom used to be in charge of all those things. She had this huge color-coded calendar in our kitchen. Red for Dad, blue for Mom, pink for Addy, and purple for me. Dad loved checking the calendar every morning before he left for work to see what everyone’s day was going to be like. He used to say that Mom’s calendar was even more organized than his surgery schedule.”
“Wow. Sounds like a lot of work to keep everything running that smoothly at home. Do you think she ever got tired of overseeing everyone and everything?” Dr. Beth asked.
I don’t know what it was about this fast-food-eating hippie cat lady, but something made me want to talk to her. Maybe it was because she didn’t know me from back home. Or maybe it was because Mom’s secret was burning in my chest.
I took a deep breath. “It all started two years ago when my mom forgot to pick me up from play rehearsal.”
I must’ve done a good job talking, because Dr. Beth handed me her laptop when I finally shut up twenty minutes later. It felt pretty good getting some things off my chest.
The first thing I did was check Instagram. The M & Ms were back at Mia’s pool, this time with Mia’s brother Tim and his crew, who were all two years older than us.
Of course, Madeline was sitting super close to Mia’s brother. Madeline is so boy crazy she doesn’t even care that Tim’s room always smells like dirty socks and his mother still needs to remind him to brush his teeth before school. Madison had captioned the post with more emojis I didn’t get. This one said, mustard in yo eye, with a barfing emoji, a poop emoji, and a cheeseburger emoji.
It was hard to comment without using emojis, which feel safer than words because they can mean more than one thing. It’s a lot easier to mess up with actual words.
I commented, Miss you guys sm! XOXO Then, I realized the guys might think I was talking to them, so I deleted it and then commented, Looks like fun! I added a smiley face using a colon and a parenthesis.
Bea is not an emoji kind of girl. She believes in words that are written out all the way with the right letters and correct spelling. She used to hate when I texted her ILY SM! I don’t know why she thinks she’s going to fit in with this crew. Looking at Insta was just making me more anxious about my end of the pact, so I moved on to email.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Hiiiiiiiiii!
Hi Maisy,
Can’t believe you emailed me already. You didn’t write me once when I was away training last summer. You must really hate camp!
Dad said they’re making you take swim lessons. OMG!!! I cannot even picture that! I’ve never even seen you get your hair wet at the pool. But that means you can swim with me at the lake next time we visit Grandma.
I am more sore than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I swear, even my hair hurts. I am super close to nailing my front tuck-round off-back handspring-back layout on floor. Coach Rutherford is going to talk to Dad about homeschooling me this year so I can train full-time. You are going to be sooooo jelly when I don’t have to go to school.
XOXO
Addy
P.S. Do you think Mom’s okay?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Hiiiiiiiiii!
Hi Addy!
Camp is the worst. The Dandelion Bunk girls pranked us by filling our whole cabin with crickets!!! It was seriously the grossest thing I have ever seen in my life. Luckily, I sleep in the top bunk because apparently crickets don’t fly.
I know you’re probs shocked I’m emailing again. I mean, it’s not like writing is my thing. But I’m at Dr. Beth’s cabin (she’s the camp therapist) and she said I could spend the end of our session writing to you.
Dr. Beth is a legit hippie. She showed me a picture of herself from the 60’s when she was at a protest with Martin Luther King Jr. It was hanging on the wall next to a picture of her from the D.C. Women’s March. She looks exactly the same in both pics and I even think she’s wearing the same flare jeans in both. But her hair is A LOT grayer now.
I know you are also probs shocked that I’ve been meeting with a therapist. Remember that woman with the nasty coffee breath and non-ironically ugly Jack-o’-lantern sweater? The one who kept calling our parents Mom and Dad like she was their kid. OMG! How creepy was that? I know we SWORE we would never talk to a therapist again, but it felt good to talk to Dr. Beth. I told her about Mom. Things that only you and me know, things we haven’t even told Dad. I thought it would feel bad to talk about it. But this year, it’s felt kind of like I’ve had a huge ball of yarn, like the ones Grandma knits with, stuck in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Talking to Dr. Beth made me feel like the ball was unraveling. S
o when we stopped talking, that big ball was still there, but it was smaller and I felt like I could breathe better.
Anyway, I thought you would want to know that talking about Mom isn’t as bad as we thought it would be. So maybe when we get back to Mapleton we can find someone to talk to together? Just not the Halloween sweater lady. LOL!
XOXO
Maisy
P.S. I am going to be so pissed when you don’t have to go to school and I do. You better get me front-row seats at the Olympics one day.
P.P.S. Don’t waste your summer worrying about Mom.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Supplies Request
Hi Dad,
Camp still sucks because it’s filled with everything I’m scared of, bugs, bears, and other wild animals that make creepy sounds at night. Even Minnow Pond where I take swim lessons with the babies is scary because it’s filled with slimy seaweed and fish that try to nibble my toes.
Can you send me water shoes so my feet don’t have to touch all the gross stuff on the bottom of the lake? My swim teacher thinks I will have an easier time if I’m not so worried about what my feet are touching. Can you also send me some friendship bracelet supplies? I need lots of different embroidery thread, a pack of large safety pins, and beads. I also need some hairstyling supplies, like tiny clear rubber bands, gel, and hairspray. If you go in old orders on Amazon, you can find all the good stuff. My bunkmate Hannah has been teaching me how to make bracelets and I’m teaching her how to do hair. It’s one of the only fun things about camp.
Maisy
P.S. Is Mom okay? I don’t really care. I’m just checking for Addy.
BEA
I held the phone to my ear, and, as soon as I heard Mom’s voice, I felt like I was home. I pictured her tucked into the corner of our gray couch with Mr. Pebbles purring in her lap. She probably had her wild red hair slicked into a top knot and was wearing a flowy summer work dress that had long sleeves to cover her tattoos. She was certain to be on her third cup of coffee already.
Camp Clique Page 9
