Camp Confidential 01 - Natalie's Secret

by Melissa J Morgan

  “But,” Julie said, looking slightly uncomfortable, “there were just too many overlaps for most of the rest of the choices, so I had to give you something different than what you asked for.”

  Natalie bristled. “What’d I get?” she asked, a sense of dread coming over her.

  “Keep in mind it’s just for two weeks, and you never know what you might learn,” Julie said, stalling for time and burying her face in her clipboard.

  Now Natalie was really starting to feel anxious. “Julie,” she pressed, “come on.”

  “Well, for second free, you’ve got nature,” Julie said.

  “What?” Natalie cried. “Julie, no way!”

  “I promise, Nat, it’s the only way I could make it work. I swear. And it’s only for two weeks.”

  “Two weeks is a long time!” Natalie insisted. “Julie, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to nature. I mean, I’m from New York City!”

  “Don’t be silly,” Julie protested. “The truth is, Nat,” she said, lowering her voice, “I’m starting to get to know you girls, and I can tell that you’re strong. You’re a confident chick. And if I stick you in nature, you’re gonna do well—even if it’s not your first choice. Now, I can’t say that about everyone in the bunk. So I need you to be the strong one, and to suck it up and try something new and different. Just think of it as taking one for the team. Can you do that for me?” Julie fixed her bright blue eyes on Natalie, and suddenly Natalie found it hard to say no.

  “When you put it that way,” Natalie said, rolling her eyes, “how can I argue?”

  Julie threw her arms around Natalie. “I knew I could count on you, Natalie! I totally owe you!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Natalie agreed solemnly. “Yes, you do.”

  “Oh, you got nature, too?” Chelsea asked, passing by. She didn’t sound very sympathetic.

  “Uh, yeah. Does that mean you got nature?” Natalie asked.

  Chelsea tossed her sun-streaked blond hair over her shoulders. “Yup. But you know, it’s different for me. I’m from the country. So I’ll be able to identify the poison ivy and stuff—and avoid it,” she said snidely. She shot Natalie a self-satisfied grin and stalked off.

  Natalie turned back to Julie again, a fresh wave of panic washing over her.

  “Nat, she’s just kidding. Ha ha,” Julie said pleadingly.

  Marissa, back from kitchen duty, came up behind Natalie and rubbed her shoulders. “Just think of it as building character,” she said.

  Great. More character, Natalie thought. At what point do we decide that I’ve got enough character? She sighed. “I’ll be a good sport,” she said, resigned. “But in that case, have I mentioned how much you owe me?” she asked again.

  “Nat, relax. Chelsea was just being . . . Chelsea. Poison ivy is really easy to identify,” Valerie said as the two trudged over to the nature shack. “Besides, I seriously doubt that the nature counselor is going to send us off into a patch of it.” She giggled and shook her head, making the beads in her cornrows clink. “I bet you anything we spend today playing with the rabbits or whatever.”

  “Rabbits?” Natalie asked nervously. “I think I really am allergic to rabbits.”

  Valerie raised an eyebrow at her. “Come on.”

  “Well, I mean, I’ve never, like, been tested for it or anything, but who knows? I mean, I could be,” Natalie said defensively.

  “Why don’t we wait and see?” Valerie suggested.

  “We can wait and see, sure, but I’m telling you, Valerie, even if I’m not allergic to the rabbits or the guinea pigs or the skunks—”

  “—Um, I really don’t think they keep skunks inside the nature shack—” Valerie cut in.

  “—whatever. The point is, that no matter if I turn out to be the world’s biggest animal lover, I would want, you know, some cuddly kittens or something. I mean, there’s no way on Earth that I’m going to suddenly be all into nature—” Natalie pushed the door open to the nature shack.

  And then she stopped her tirade mid-sentence. Because there was one thing, she realized, that could just make nature bearable. One person, to be exact. One boy-person with denim blue eyes. Eyes that happened to be trained directly on her, making her suddenly self-conscious of how incredibly negative she must sound.

  Simon.

  Natalie stopped short as she walked into the room, causing Valerie to step directly into her and send her forward a few paces. “Ow,” she said, barely taking note of the collision.

  “God, Nat, stare much?” Chelsea mumbled. She had arrived a few minutes earlier and was already seated.

  Natalie ignored Chelsea and went to take a seat at the table—not directly next to Simon, because that would be too obvious, but near enough that she could keep an eye on him during the session.

  “Hello, guys, my name’s Roseanne,” said a woman standing at the front of the table. Roseanne looked like the type of person who would lead a class in nature, if there ever were such a thing: She was wiry, thin, and impossibly tall, with long, dark curly hair shooting off in every direction. She wore faded cargo shorts, a tank top, and broken-in hiking sandals. Natalie guessed Roseanne was probably a vegetarian. “Welcome to nature. In the nature shack—and outside, as well—we’re going to learn all about our environment. But if you want to commune with nature, you’re going to have to be responsible about it. And that means respecting nature and not disturbing or depleting it.”

  Scratch vegetarian, Natalie decided. Vegan. Definite vegan. Natalie herself had considered becoming a vegetarian, but had to drop it when she realized it meant giving up sushi.

  “So first some rules that will help protect you,” Roseanne continued. She picked up a big hand-lettered chart with some bright pictures of various plants glued onto it. “Does anyone know how to identify poison ivy?”

  From her left, Natalie was dimly aware of Valerie stifling a snort and elbowing her in the ribs. But only dimly.

  She was much more focused on Simon.

  Natalie was walking away from the nature shack, eagerly contemplating which magazine from her mother’s latest care package she was going to bring to free swim when she heard someone calling after her.

  “So, ah, you’re not too into nature.”

  Natalie turned to find Simon slightly out of breath, but walking casually next to her as though he had been there all along. “Well, I like nature, and all,” she began, wanting to sound like she had a “positive attitude,” “but, you know, it’s just . . . okay, I hate nature,” she finally conceded.

  Simon broke out laughing. “Roseanne can freak you out a little, I know, with her ‘avoid this plant,’ and ‘this thing is poisonous,’ but the truth is you’re not going to be rubbing up against any poison ivy or anything in the nature shack.”

  “What about poison oak?” Natalie quipped.

  “Negative,” Simon replied. “And the thing is that the animals are really cool.”

  “I guess,” Natalie agreed reluctantly. “I’m much more into domesticated animals. Like hamsters. Cats. The occasional lapdog.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you’re from New York. I guess they don’t really have big dogs in the city, because of all the apartments,” Simon reasoned.

  Natalie stared at him, puzzled. “How did you know I was from New York City?” she asked, frankly curious.

  Simon colored. “I guess, um, someone mentioned it,” he offered, shrugging. “I guess.”

  But Simon was looking way too embarrassed to have just found out about her hometown by accident, Natalie decided. Based on his guilty expression, he had definitely done some digging into her background. Not that she minded. Interesting, Natalie thought.

  Very interesting indeed.

  chapter SIX

  On Wednesday morning, Natalie woke with enough time to shower. She had somehow figured out how to drag herself out of her bed even amidst the morning chill so that she could get herself together before flag-raising. Maybe it was a survival instinct. After all, this was th
e wilderness, wasn’t it?

  Flag-raising was a particularly bizarre camp ritual, and even though she’d by now been at Lakeview for six whole days, Natalie still wasn’t really getting the point of it. The process was straightforward: All the campers from all the divisions came to the field just in front of the flagpole every morning. This was located in front of the camp director’s, Dr. Steve’s, office. All the bunks in the divisions met together, along with their counselors and individual division heads. It was important to Dr. Steve that all of Lakeview “greet the day together.”

  Back in New York, Natalie and her mother liked to greet the day as slowly as possible, and usually with whole-wheat bagels and herbal tea, so this “stand at attention and salute” thing was a pretty big shock to her system. 56

  As Natalie wrapped a towel around herself, she overheard a conversation from the stall next door.

  “Are you going to wear your lavender headband?” she heard someone ask in a snotty tone. Chelsea, she thought. It had to be. Not that Natalie was a snoop, but suddenly the conversation was that much more interesting. She willed herself inanimate and undetectable.

  “Uh, yeah, why?” It was Karen, sounding a little uncertain.

  “Well, I was just thinking that it’s a shame, because it sort of makes you look like a baby.”

  Natalie felt a pang of sympathy for Karen.

  “Oh, um, do you think so?” Karen asked sadly.

  “Totally. You shouldn’t even bother—that is, unless you want everyone to think you’re a complete baby,” Chelsea repeated, taunting.

  “You’re probably right,” Karen said. A pause followed, leading Natalie to think that Karen was taking the offending headband out right then and there.

  “Much better,” Chelsea said, confirming Natalie’s thought. “But, you know, you really should brush your hair.”

  “Thanks, Chelsea,” Karen said. It upset Natalie to hear the relief in Karen’s voice. It certainly wasn’t worth getting upset over Chelsea’s opinion, annoying as she was!

  “So, you know, Karen . . .” Chelsea continued.

  Natalie’s ears pricked up. Chelsea sounded just a tad too casual.

  “Yeah?” Karen asked.

  “So, now that you’re not wearing that headband ... I guess you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it?”

  Natalie had to stop herself from gasping out loud. So Chelsea had manipulated the whole exchange, trying to make Karen feel bad about the headband, just because she wanted to wear it herself? That was just too, too mean.

  Then again, she wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. After all, it was typical Chelsea.

  Natalie told Alyssa about the conversation she’d overheard on their way to the flag-raising. Alyssa agreed that Chelsea could be awful, but she didn’t think it was really worth saying anything. “I mean, she didn’t do anything to you, right?” Alyssa asked. “So, it’s really not any of your business. Karen might even be upset if she found out you overheard. Like, embarrassed.”

  “You’re probably right,” Natalie agreed. “But what a pain Chelsea is.”

  Alyssa put a hand on Natalie’s forearm, saying, “Let’s not let her ruin our good time.”

  Natalie had to snicker. Standing in front of a flagpole at daybreak in the freezing cold was definitely not what she considered a “good time”!

  “Who’s in charge of raising the flag today?” Natalie asked. A different bunk was responsible every morning.

  “Three-A,” Alex chimed in authoritatively. Just about everything Alex said or did was authoritative. She was nice enough, but sometimes her gung-ho attitude grated on Natalie. But she knew what her mother would say about that: broader horizons, yadda yadda yadda . . . So she just smiled at Alex and said, “Thanks.”

  Meredith Bergmont, a petite blonde who weighed, Natalie guessed, less than a hummingbird, stepped forward. She tugged on the rope-pulley mechanism that raised the flag. In fact, Stephanie was so focused on her job that she didn’t even notice exactly what she was raising—the American flag, yes.

  But that wasn’t all.

  Meredith finally put the rope down when the first wave of riotous laughter hit the air. She looked up to see all the divisions of Lakeview doubled over, clutching their stomachs with hysteria. Underneath the American flag was a banner that read: “WE SEE LONDON, WE SEE FRANCE. WE SEE 3A’S UNDERPANTS.”

  And after that?

  Strung on the flagpole and waving proudly in the breeze were twelve pairs of girls’ underwear. More specifically, the girls’ of 3A’s underwear.

  Natalie’s jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh! Who did that?” she demanded, turning to Alyssa. But Alyssa was laughing too hard to answer, pausing only to catch her breath and wipe tears from the corners of her eyes.

  Looking around, Natalie could tell that Alyssa wasn’t the only one having an extreme reaction. But to her left, three girls looked like they were enjoying the scene just a shade more than everyone else.

  Jenna, Grace, and Brynn.

  None of the counselors could prove anything, though, and the prank was harmless enough. And so once the panties had been lowered and safely returned to Lizzie, 3A’s most embarrassed counselor, flag-raising proceeded as though there had been no interruption at all.

  “So, today we’re going to talk about interviews,” Keith, the newspaper specialist said. Keith hadn’t ever worked on an actual newspaper—just a small computer magazine published in South Jersey—but Natalie liked him just the same. He seemed very enthusiastic, and nothing about the newspaper office was potentially poisonous, alive, or otherwise natural. Therefore, Natalie had decided that newspaper was just about her favorite place to be at Lakeview. That is, when she wasn’t back in the bunk reading magazines while Alyssa sketched. Keith continued, “An interview is a reporter’s opportunity to talk to a famous figure or other celebrity, sure, but what people don’t always realize is that the interview is also the reporter’s opportunity to paint the subject in any light he or she sees fit. Many people assume that interviews they read are a reflection of the subject’s true thoughts and words, but often, the interview is strongly influenced by the reporter’s vision.”

  Natalie snorted almost without realizing. “I’ll say,” she muttered to herself.

  Alyssa looked at her friend quizzically. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Natalie looked up to see that not only was Alyssa looking at her, but so were a few other campers. Whoops, she thought. She hadn’t meant to actually say anything aloud. Now what was she going to do? “Uh, well, I just mean—I read a thing in Teen People last week that made Britney Spears look like a total moron. And I don’t really think that she is,” she stammered, covering.

  “Yeah, I’m sure she’s, like, a real brainiac,” said Claudia, a girl from 3B that Natalie and Alyssa were starting to get to know.

  “She’s way smarter than Christina Aguilera,” Natalie protested defensively, hoping to turn the conversation away from her little slip. “Don’t you think, Alyssa?”

  “Huh? Well, I guess . . . but she’s nothing compared to, uh, Mindy Moore,” Alyssa said.

  Everyone at their table cracked up. Alyssa was so hopeless when it came to mainstream pop culture. That was one of the things Natalie liked best about her—she was into more original music, books, and movies than most of the kids Natalie knew—even her friends back in the city.

  “Mandy Moore, Lyss,” Claudia said, laughing hysterically. “Mandy.”