I laughed. “Maybe you should trade grandkids with my grandma, because that’s exactly how she eats, too. Her famous lasagna is actually frozen Stouffer’s.”
Mary Anne laughed a big belly laugh as I headed to sit down. The dining hall was noisy, but in a good way, like everyone was really happy to hang out with each other. When the cafeteria is loud like that at school, it’s usually from the boys getting too rowdy and doing stupid things like that annoying water bottle flipping trick. When the M & Ms are noisy at school, it’s because we’re trying to show off how popular we are.
I sat down with the Sunflower Bunk girls at the table we shared with the Tulip Bunk. It was easy to spot our table because Hannah was wearing an orange velour romper with thick white stripes down the side, and yellow polka dot sneakers. Of course, Isa was wearing her usual outfit that made her look like a professional soccer player, and Poppy was wearing bright turquoise Lilly Pulitzer shorts with a white polo shirt. Bea wore the same Camp Amelia T-shirt and athletic shorts she had slept in the night before. I was going to have to work on her clothes when we got back to Mapleton. The M & Ms had high standards about personal appearance, and Bea’s lack of outfit planning and personal grooming was going to be a serious issue. It takes her two minutes to get ready in the morning, which is about fifty-eight minutes less than it should.
“Let’s play two truths and a lie,” said Hannah, through a mouthful of waffle.
“I’ll go first,” Ainsley said. She was eating her usual egg white omelet with steamed broccoli and mushrooms. Mary Anne always made special “athlete food” to help her stay in shape for when she got back to school.
“I went to prom with my cousin. I eat a box of Mike and Ikes before every meet. I was a competitive gymnast,” Ainsley said, before winking at me. “What’s the lie?”
“The cousin thing,” said Poppy.
Isa chewed on her nail. “I think the cousin thing was a trick. There is no way you eat a box of Mike and Ikes before a meet.”
Ainsley winked at me again. “Maisy, what do you think?”
“The gymnastics thing is the lie,” I said, keeping my eyes on my pancake stack so I didn’t give anything away.
“What?” said Bea. “It has to be the cousin thing.”
“Maisy’s right,” said Ainsley.
“How did you do that?” asked Poppy, eyes wide.
“Maisy’s good at reading people,” said Ainsley, then she winked at me.
“Ew! You took your own cousin to the prom?!” shrieked Hannah.
“Technically,” Ainsley said, “my step-uncle Mark married my date’s mom a week before prom.”
“That doesn’t count,” said Poppy.
“Your turn, Maisy,” said Bea.
I had spent so long lying for Mom that it was hard to come up with two truths. Even my reason for coming to camp was one big lie. But I put a smile on my face and played along.
BEA
Hi Mom!
Sorry I was awkward when you told me about Mr. Pembrook. It’s just hard to get past the whole math teacher façade. I think I would’ve been less shocked if you told me you were dating Mr. Miller, the drama teacher, or Mr. Lansing, the environmental arts teacher—someone who doesn’t adhere to societal norms. But I guess the whole bowtie-wearing thing makes Mr. Pembrook a little alternative in his own way. At least he’s an elementary school teacher, so I don’t have to worry about any awkwardness bumping into him in the hallways. Not sure what would be more uncomfortable—bumping into him if you guys break up or bumping into him if you’re an actual couple. Just wanted to say to you what I should’ve said on the phone. You deserve to be happy even if it’s with my old math teacher.
I miss you so much! Can’t wait for our weekend-long Gilmore Girls marathon! Notice I said weekend-long. I’ve decided that our traditional twenty-four-hour binge-fest must be extended to a full forty-eight hours in order for us to stretch our stomachs to full capacity. I’m thinking pizza the first night, and bacon cheeseburgers and curly fries the second night, with lots of Pop Tarts, ice cream, and donuts in between. That would truly be a Gilmore-inspired feast! Of course, we will also get Mr. Pebbles a few cans of his favorite tuna so he can indulge with us.
Thanks so much for the s’mores bars. The girls and I polished them off in one sitting. They were even better than Nana Mary’s famous chocolate chip cookies. Thanks also for the rest of the care package items. I can’t wait to dig into The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but I’ve been falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow every night. We’ve been training so hard for the tournament that every muscle in my body is fatigued.
I hope you are using this six-week hiatus from being a mom to have fun with the Single Squad and to see if you really like Mr. Pembrook. Seriously, I know my year of loserdom cost you your social life too. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, I know how many times you turned down plans with your friends because you didn’t want to leave me. But you don’t have to worry about that happening anymore. I have it all figured out. Next school year is going to be different. You aren’t going to have to worry about me anymore.
Love your #1/only daughter,
Bea
P.S. I mailed Dad’s letter the first day of camp. Haven’t heard from him yet. Do you think I got his new address right?
Isa bumped the cabin door open with her hip. She had a soccer ball under one arm and was chugging water. Her sweaty hair was thrown in a ponytail, but quite a few little curls had escaped and were sticking to her forehead.
She looked around the room, then asked, “Where’s Maisy?”
Poppy looked up from perfect hospital corners. Luckily, her maid had taught her the right way to make a bed, and Poppy had bestowed her wisdom on us, because we always passed bunk inspection with flying colors.
“With Dr. Beth,” she said, smoothing her thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets.
Isa stowed her soccer ball in the corner of the room. “When do you guys think these sessions are gonna kick in?”
“It’s too late to kick her out of our bunk,” I jumped in. “We all agreed she could stay.”
I had lied to Mom in my letter. I hadn’t been falling asleep right away every night. I had been staying up late imagining what it would be like to finally be a part of a group at school.
“Whoa. Slow your roll, Bea. No one said anything about kicking her out,” said Hannah. “We already said she could stay.”
Isa turned to face me. “What’s the deal, Bea?”
I focused on pulling the corners of my own bunk sheets tight and kept my face down because being dishonest always makes me flush bright red, which of course my friends know about.
“You’re acting really weird,” said Poppy.
“I’m not being weird” I said. “And there’s no deal. It’s too late to switch her to another bunk. We especially couldn’t move her to the Dandelion Bunk after that ingenious prank.”
“None of us said anything about kicking her out. She’s actually cooler than we thought she would be. I mean, that prank—” Hannah started.
“Best prank ever!” Poppy cut in.
Isa narrowed her eyes at me. “You went from hating her and trying to get her pawned off on any other bunk than ours to sticking up for her and expecting us all to be her friend. You gonna tell us what’s going on?”
I ran to the window to make sure Maisy wasn’t coming. Then I turned to the girls. “You have to promise not to tell Maisy I told you.”
The girls all trained their eyes on me.
“You can trust us,” said Poppy.
They all nodded and murmured in unison that I could trust them.
I took a deep breath and looked them all in the eyes.
“Maisy’s going through a hard time at home,” I said. Telling them at least part of the truth would make me feel better, right? In fact, it made me feel even worse. I was exposing a secret about Maisy for my own personal gain that she didn’t even know I was aware of.
“Hope it’s n
ot as bad as when my mom got laid off. That was the worst,” said Hannah.
“Are her parents getting divorced?” Poppy asked. “I wish mine would.”
I bit my bottom lip. “I’m not quite sure exactly what’s happening. My mom said it was worse than divorce.”
Poppy wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. But whatever it is seems pretty bad. Which makes everything else seem trivial, you know?”
Hannah shook her head. “You are such a good person, Bea. I don’t know if I would be able to forgive someone who ghosted me.”
But I didn’t feel like a good person. I felt like a liar of epic proportions.
“Thanks for trusting us enough to tell us,” said Poppy. “We won’t say anything.”
Isa bounced her ball off the cabin wall. “Of course Bea told us. We tell each other everything.”
This was the moment—if I didn’t come clean now, I knew I never would. But when I willed the words to come out, my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.
Poppy waved us over to the window. “Looks like the Dandelion girls are pissed about the prank. They’ve got Maisy surrounded.”
I always told Mom that she looked for signs to support whatever decision she wanted to make. If she was thinking about cutting her hair, she would see a Facebook story about fall hairstyles and take it as a sign that she was meant to go for a radical new look. Now here I was, taking the Dandelion girls’ interruption as a sign that I wasn’t meant to confess.
Hannah headed to the door. “We need to go save Maisy before those girls eat her for breakfast.”
Isa grabbed her arm, saying, “At least give the kid a chance to defend herself so we don’t humiliate her.”
We all leaned into the window to watch Maisy try to stand up for herself, ready to jump in when necessary.
Tinka, with her arms folded across her chest, towered over Maisy. “Well, if it isn’t the Camp Amelia ghost.”
Maisy gave her a blank stare. “The what?” she said, playing dumb. “I didn’t know camp was haunted.”
“Should we check to see if she’s real?” asked one of the A twins.
The other girls nodded vigorously. The A twin poked Maisy in the arm.
I waited for Maisy to flinch, but she held her ground.
Kaya poked Maisy’s other arm. “Guess she’s real.”
“Unlike those boobs of yours,” said Maisy.
Kaya smoothed down her shirt over her heavily padded bra.
“Whoa! Maisy knows how to give it back!” said Hannah.
Kaya took a step toward Maisy, and Isa was out the door. We all followed.
“Back off!” said Hannah.
Tinka rolled her eyes. “We aren’t dumb enough to hurt Maisy. She’s more good to us all in one piece than she is injured. After all, she’s the one who’s going to cost you the Cup.”
Kaya shoved Maisy toward us. “Good luck teaching this girl the ropes.”
The A twins laughed. One of them said, “Literally.”
I pulled Maisy away from them and swallowed hard. I needed to get Maisy through that ropes course, or I would have spent the summer lying to my only real friends for nothing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAISY
From: @madisonave
To: @maisywintersiscoming
You were right!! Meghan’s being nice again. ILY!!
From: @maisywintersiscoming
To: @madisonave
Yay!! It sucks when Meghan’s mean to you. With me gone you probs felt all alone. Even when I’m there it’s 2 against 3.
From: @madisonave
To: @maisywintersiscoming
I know! It’s always me and you, then Meghan, Madeline, and Mia are all teamed up together.
From: @maisywintersiscoming
To: @madisonave
You are so right!!! Wish we could fix it.
From: @madisonave
To: @maisywintersiscoming
Me too :(
From: @maisywintersiscoming
To: @madisonave
Maybe we can…
“BZZZZZZ,” we all said as we passed the Dandelion cabin a few days later.
“OMG! It’s still funny,” said Hannah.
“It’s not gonna be funny when they kick our butts at the tournament,” said Isa.
“Stop stressing,” said Poppy. “All this extra conditioning is going to give us a huge advantage.”
We spent most afternoons in the art cabin, which is really the gym, aka the place where I threatened to jump off the porch. It’s a little embarrassing now when Bea and the girls jump off the railings like it’s no big deal.
Five minutes later, Bea’s face was so close to mine I could smell the pepperoni from her pizza at lunch. “Don’t give up.”
I groaned. “Ugh, I can’t do this.”
Bea flicked her wrist and looked at her watch. “Thirty more seconds to go.”
My arms were on fire. “You said that thirty seconds ago.”
Bea tapped her watch. “Holding a two-minute plank is the secret to the ropes course.”
I wanted to groan but didn’t have the energy. I also wanted to tell her the secret to the ropes course was not being scared, but talking required even more energy than groaning.
What felt like a million years later, Bea finally stopped her timer and jumped up. “Two minutes! Great job!”
“Nice!” Hannah called from across the room where she was doing push-ups with Isa.
“Next up is partner crunches!” Bea actually sounded excited about this next kind of torture.
She locked her ankles with mine and we had to do sit-ups while passing a five-pound ball back and forth to each other.
Bea reached for the ball. “What’s the plan?”
I laid back down. I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I needed a few extra seconds to think. “What plan?”
“For when we go back to school?” Bea whispered, as she passed me back the ball.
“For starters, you need some new clothes.” That was a no-brainer.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Bea hissed.
“You need to dress like you actually care.”
“You need to come shopping with me then.” Bea wasn’t even out of breath from passing the weight back and forth. “You’re much better at picking out clothes than I am.”
It was starting to hit me that this really was going to be a thing when we got back. I was going to have to convince the M & Ms to hang out with Bea. “I don’t understand you. You always hated the M & Ms.”
Bea practically threw the ball at me. “I hate being invisible even more.”
The ball felt like a hundred pounds of guilt. “What are you talking about? We’ve been going to school with the same people since preschool. Everyone knows who you are.”
Bea narrowed her eyes as I handed her the ball. “How many graduation parties did you go to this year?”
The alpha moms had gotten together at the beginning of the year and decided everyone should space their graduation parties throughout the year so that there wouldn’t be any scheduling conflicts or venue double-bookings at the end of the school year. It was easier to count the new dresses I had bought than to remember whose party I was invited to. I was still counting when Bea interrupted, “How many?”
I wasn’t done dress counting, so I estimated, “Thirty.” I sat up and reached for the ball.
Bea looked me in the eyes and held the ball for an extra second before asking, “Did you see me at any of them?”
I hadn’t thought about it before, but, if I had, I would’ve assumed Bea was somewhere in the crowd.
“What about David Mosko…”
“No.”
“Becky Smithson…”
Bea tossed the ball a little harder at me this time. “I wasn’t invited to any. Not one… single… party.”
Not getting invited to an elementary school graduation party in Mapleton is a huge deal. The parties are usua
lly at the Mapleton Lake Club or the Pemberton Golf Club, which is one town over. Both places are big enough to hold our whole grade, so pretty much everyone gets invited. Even the kids who are considered losers got invited because their moms are friends with the mom of the kid who was throwing the party. But Bea’s mom only hung out with the other single working moms in town, who didn’t have time to network with the Lululemon crowd.
So I did what people do when they feel guilty. I turned the situation around.
“You could’ve made other friends,” I said.
Bea held the weight ball for a minute before handing it over. “I always had you. I never figured out how to make new friends.”
I thought about the time we learned about India’s caste system and Madeline started calling the unpopular kids Untouchables. Then there was the time I bought mac and cheese for lunch and Mia made me throw it out because “we don’t eat fat people food in public.” The worst was when Stephen Shipley asked out Meghan, and Mia videoed it and posted it on her Snapchat story, including the part where Meghan said no.
“Did you ever think you might not like the M & Ms? They’re not like your crew here,” I said.
“I know what I have here is special and that the M & Ms are nothing like my friends here. That’s pretty obvious.”
“It’s not just that they’re different than the Sunflower girls. It’s hard work to get in the group and stay in the group. I’ve been in the M & Ms for a year and I still have to work really hard to hold my spot,” I said.
“You think I care about working hard to get in the group?” Bea put the ball down. “I can’t spend my life alone anymore. I can’t spend day after day with people looking right through me. I can’t sit home on a Saturday night seeing everyone else’s Snapchat stories of parties I’ll never be invited to. I can’t go through entire school days without having an actual conversation with anyone. Hanging out with the M & Ms is infinitely better than spending another school year alone.”
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