Jenna's Dilemma #2

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Jenna's Dilemma #2 Page 9

by Melissa J Morgan


  “Just take it!” Regina whispered.

  Jenna quickly snapped the photo and hit the dirt. “Let’s go!”

  The girls got up and ran, giggling, all the way back to the edge of the path that led to the lake. By the time they got there, the photo had already developed. There, in full color, was Jenna’s perfect sister, looking like some kind of creature from the black lagoon.

  “Omigosh! It’s so great!” Marta said.

  “I thought you couldn’t see,” Jenna reminded her.

  “Yeah, but I can imagine how great it is,” Marta said.

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Do you have the note?”

  “Here. I wrote it in my mother’s handwriting so no one would know it was from me,” Regina said, handing over a piece of Stephanie’s own pink stationery.

  “You can do your mother’s handwriting?” Jenna asked, impressed.

  “She never lets me go on class trips. I had to learn to do her signature,” Regina said with a shrug.

  Wow, Jenna thought. Wish this girl was in my bunk.

  She quickly scanned the note:

  Dear Tyler,

  Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  I love cucumbers,

  Hope you do, too!

  Love,

  Stephanie

  “I love it!” Jenna squealed. Regina was good! “Now all we have to do is slip it into Tyler’s bag. This is going to be so great.”

  “I hope Stephanie isn’t too mad,” Regina said, biting her bottom lip.

  “Don’t worry. She’ll think it’s funny. I swear,” Jenna said, crossing her fingers again.

  “I can’t wait to see what happens next,” Marta said with a grin.

  Neither can I, Jenna thought, grinning. I cannot wait.

  That night all the campers in Jenna’s year, along with their counselors and CITs, gathered by the lake to tell ghost stories. A campfire blazed on the sand, the lake shone in the moonlight, and the stars twinkled high overhead. All around them the woods were black as pitch. There wasn’t a sound except for the crackling of the fire, the chirping crickets, and Pete’s deep voice. Everyone was riveted by his story of the little old woman in the deserted house. Even people who heard it every year were still on the edge of their seats.

  “The little old lady felt an icy chill creep down her back,” Pete said in his most spooky voice. “All the tiny white hairs on her neck stood on end . . .”

  Jenna, herself, felt like she was on red alert. Every nerve in her body was sizzling. But it was not because of Pete’s story. On the edge of the crowd were the CITs. Tyler was lounging back against the lifeguard’s chair with some of the other guys while Stephanie and her friends sat on the old, overturned boat in the sand where the campers painted their bunk numbers at the end of each summer. Every once in a while Tyler would shoot a look at Stephanie, and every once in a while Stephanie would notice and smile back.

  Tyler had to have seen the picture and the note. There was no way he could have missed it sitting right on top of his sunblock in his bag. Something was going to happen tonight. Jenna could feel it.

  “Slowly . . . slowly . . . the little old lady crept toward the door,” Pete said, the light from the fire dancing in his eyes and throwing eerie shadows across his face. “Step after step after step, she knew she might be walking to her doom . . .”

  Suddenly Tyler pushed himself away from the lifeguard’s chair. Jenna’s heart hit her throat. Across the fire her eyes met Regina’s, then Marta’s. They were watching, too. They were all dying to know what was going to happen.

  Stephanie saw Tyler coming. She stood up a little straighter, tossed her hair behind one shoulder, and smiled slyly at Marissa.

  “Her gnarled old fingers shook with fear as she reached for the doorknob . . .”

  Tyler’s hand went to his pocket. He pulled something out. The envelope! The pink envelope!

  “Her hand grasped the cool brass handle. She closed her eyes and said a prayer . . .”

  Stephanie blinked in confusion. She took the envelope and opened it. Her face went white as she saw the picture. The envelope fluttered to the sand. Jenna looked at Regina and slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Marta already had her face buried in Regina’s back, her shoulders shaking.

  “The little old lady opened the door and—”

  “What is this!?” Stephanie shrieked at the top of her lungs.

  All the campers around the fire jumped. Jenna saw Natalie grab Simon out of fear, then flush and look away. Even Adam looked like he had just seen a ghost.

  “Who did this!?” Stephanie shouted, kicking up sand as she stalked toward the fire.

  “Stephanie, come on,” Tyler pleaded, following her. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I knew it was a joke.”

  It seemed like Stephanie hadn’t even heard him. She stepped into the center of the circle and glared at the girls in her cabin, holding the photo up.

  “I know it had to be one of you!” she shouted. “You’re the only ones who know when I use my mask. So who did it, huh? Who took this picture?”

  Still barely containing her laughter, Jenna glanced at Regina and Marta again. But now, neither one of them was laughing. They both looked upset and guilty. Regina turned accusing eyes toward Jenna, and Jenna knew what she was thinking. She had promised Regina that Stephanie would think the prank was funny. And from the way Stephanie was reacting, it was clear that that was not the case.

  “No one has the guts to confess?” Stephanie asked.

  There was total silence aside from the crackling of the fire.

  “Fine,” Stephanie said, clenching her jaw. “I’m outta here.”

  Then she turned and stalked through the circle and headed back for the bunks. Marissa got up and ran after her, and Tyler shrugged. “Well, I thought it was funny,” he said, causing a quick round of laugher and breaking the tension.

  Jenna leaned back on her elbows and sighed happily. Forget Regina and Marta. It wasn’t her fault they didn’t have the stomach for a good joke. As far as she was concerned, it was another successful prank. At least Jenna Bloom was still good at something.

  chapter NINE

  Jenna could not believe her luck. She was sitting at the social planning committee meeting after dinner on Monday and there were more than a dozen kids sitting around her, boys and girls from every age group. But not one of them was a brother or sister. Stephanie and Adam were both absent. She was actually the only Bloom on the committee.

  “What’s with the freaky big smile?” Chelsea asked her.

  “Just happy to be here,” Jenna said with a shrug as Shira, the camp’s events coordinator, welcomed them.

  Shira was an ever-peppy college student who always wore shirts with Greek letters on them. She had curly black hair, a huge smile, and could talk faster than anyone Jenna had ever met. Just then she was babbling on about how they should all be honored to be part of such an important event.

  “Okay, the first thing we need to decide on is a theme for the event,” Shira said, once she was done with her welcome speech. Her crazy black curls framed her face as she looked up at the table. Her pink-ink pen was poised above a bright green clipboard, ready to take

  suggestions. “Any ideas? I know you kids are just bursting with creativity!”

  “How about The Lord of the Rings?” a boy from 3E suggested. He had a cowlick the size of New Jersey and wore a faded Frodo T-shirt.

  “Nice!” Pete cheered. He, Nate, and a couple of other counselors were hanging out by the wall, listening in on the meeting.

  “Um . . . interesting, but not exactly appropriate for a social,” Shira said, shooting Pete a look. “Good start, though. Anyone else?”

  “Hey, I liked it, buddy,” Pete said, leaning over to slap the Frodo kid on the back. The Frodo kid turned fire-engine red and slumped a little bit, crossing his arms on the table.

  “We could do Hollywood,” Chelsea put in, sitting up straight. “We could have a re
d carpet, and stars hanging from the ceiling and stuff like that.”

  “Ooh! That could be so glam and romantic,” an older girl said with a grin.

  “I like it!” Shira said. “Anyone else?”

  Romantic? Yuck! Jenna thought, looking around as some of the younger kids squirmed. Who wants romance? Well, besides all my crazy friends who are going with dates.

  “What about a square dance?” a fifth-year girl named Gwendolyn suggested. “We could learn all the different dances and maybe we could have a competition for the best dancers.”

  Jenna sat up a little straighter at this idea. A square dance competition sounded like a lot more fun, and a lot less “romantic” than Chelsea’s Hollywood idea.

  “A square dance! How fun!” Shira trilled, scribbling on her clipboard. “We could get bales of hay and horseshoes and cowboy hats. Great idea, Gwen!”

  “A square dance? That’s so third grade,” Chelsea said, brushing the idea off.

  The third-graders at the table sank lower in their chairs, and Jenna elbowed Chelsea in the ribs. Jenna still remembered how annoying it was when older kids had brushed her ideas off just because she was younger.

  “Ow!” Chelsea said.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Jenna put in, covering up Chelsea’s complaints. “It would be a lot of fun. Like, all bright and happy and stuff.”

  “Yeah, and learning the dances would be cool,” another girl put in.

  “Would we have to dance?” the Frodo boy asked.

  “Not if you don’t want to,” Jenna said. “But if you wanted to, you would be matched up with someone as your partner. You know, for the contest. Right?”

  Frodo Boy actually brightened. “So I could actually dance without having to go up to a girl and ask her? I like that idea.”

  “Jenna’s got a good point,” Nate said. “A square dance is actually perfect.”

  Jenna felt a little flutter in her heart as she beamed. Nate was agreeing with her! One of the coolest counselors at camp!

  “Come on!” one of the older girls said. “A square dance is silly.”

  “Hey!” Gwen replied.

  “Everyone calm down and listen to what Nate has to say,” Shira suggested. “Nate?”

  “Well, whenever we have one of these things, all the girls stand on one side of the room, and all the boys stand on the other side, and it takes half the night for anyone to get up the guts to ask anyone else to dance,” Nate said. “If we do the square dance, everyone will be dancing all night. I think it would be much more relaxed.”

  Exactly what I was thinking, Jenna thought with a smile. “Plus, lately everyone has felt all this pressure to come with a date,” Jenna said, thinking of how serious Grace had been when she had made Jenna promise to go solo. “If everyone knows they’re going to get to dance with someone even if they don’t already have a date, then everyone could, you know, chill about it.”

  “Well put,” Shira said. “Well, we have two theme ideas. Let’s put it to a vote. All for the Hollywood theme?”

  Chelsea and a bunch of the older girls and guys raised their hands. Shira counted quickly and made a note on her board.

  “And all for the square-dance theme?” she asked.

  Jenna, Gwen, Frodo Boy, and all the younger kids, plus Nate and the rest of the counselors raised their hands. Shira counted again, but it was already clear which idea had won.

  “Square dance it is!”

  Yes! Jenna thought as a few kids cheered and clapped. Nate grinned at her, and she felt as if she were on top of the world. This was going to be the coolest camp dance-social-thingie ever.

  “I can’t believe you actually voted for that square-dance idea,” Chelsea grumbled as they headed back to their bunk later that night, a few paces behind the group of older girls. “Why don’t we just have a diaper theme?”

  “Come on, Chelsea! It’ll be fun!” Jenna said.

  Jenna knew Chelsea was just upset that her idea had been outvoted, but the square dance was such a better idea. It was more important that the entire camp have a fun social than it was to keep Chelsea happy.

  “Yeah, bales of hay, cornbread and beans, and a bunch of uncoordinated boys bouncing up and down,” Chelsea said, pausing in front of the nature shack. “Yee-ha.”

  “Chelsea . . .”

  “It’s my first date ever, and now I’m always going to remember that Eric took me to a hoedown,” she said.

  “What’s the big deal? You still get to dance with him,” Jenna said. “Even thought I still can’t figure out why you want to.”

  “Whatever, Jenna. You just don’t get it yet,” Chelsea said. “But one day you’re gonna want to go out with a boy. I swear.”

  “Not unless somebody sucks my brain out and replaces it with yours,” Jenna said.

  Chelsea scoffed. She glanced behind her at the nature shack, then looked at Jenna with a sly smile.

  “You know what? It’s too bad there aren’t any animals for our Old McDonald’s farm dance,” she said. “That would just make the whole thing perfect.”

  With that, Chelsea walked off, huffily stomping along the pathway toward the bunks. Jenna, however, couldn’t make herself move. Was Chelsea suggesting what Jenna thought she was suggesting? Whether or not Chelsea had realized it, she had started a brilliant idea forming in Jenna’s mind. She stared at the nature shack, her wicked brain already putting together the details.

  Animals for Old McDonald’s Farm . . .

  She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Especially not after the way Stephanie had reacted to the last prank. She should be hanging up her thinking cap for the rest of the summer and leaving the pranks to the other kids. Besides, if she kept it up, sooner or later she was going to get caught. And if she got caught, her parents would wig out—not to mention her brother Matt, who had made her promise to be good.

  But it would just be so totally amazing! It would be the biggest, most creative, most legendary prank ever pulled in the history of Camp Lakeview. Jenna would be talked about for years. Everyone would know her name. If she could pull it off, she would be Jenna the Champion Prankster, not just another Bloom.

  It really is a good idea, Jenna thought, smiling. A really good, bad idea ...

  “Okay, I’m totally bored,” Jenna said, slumping back in her chair at the newspaper.

  She looked at Natalie and Alyssa, who were busy going through a stack of photographs for the next issue. All around the room, campers huddled over desks, tapped away at the two ancient computers or flipped through old issues of the camp paper—The Acorn—for ideas. Various bulletin boards hung on the walls displayed unused pictures of campers from every age group, eating lunch, playing volleyball, smiling for the camera. But even with all the activity inside the cabin, it still felt stifling just to be there. Jenna could hear the squeals and shouts of the kids playing soccer on the field outside and was practically green with jealousy.

 

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