Grant Me A Wish

by Amanda Adair

  If you have any information on Spencer’s whereabouts, call the Seneca Police.

  Part II Sinner or Saint

  chapter 22

  TANSY

  July of this year

  Hawkins Valley Summer Camp, Maine

  The first summer camp I’ve ever went to was a camp in Massachusetts, a few hours away from my home town. A small camp with thirty kids at most. I knew most of the other children since it was neither a well-known nor an international camp. Eric and Bella were my best friends back then. Eric was the same age as me and lived down the road in a blue house. Most days he was waiting for me and my mom to go to elementary school together where we then met Bella in class. I agreed to go to camp because they had already signed up. The first summer camp I attended gave me some of the most beautiful memories of my childhood.

  Now I would rather be anywhere else in the world but here at Hawkins Valley Summer Camp. Well, I might be exaggerating. I’m not here because I wanted to or chose to. I’m here because Grandma thought I could use some distraction and fresh air. She’s tired of me worrying and being sad. She wants me to enjoy my life again. Sometimes it feels like I’ve never enjoyed life after all. Not since he did this to us.

  “Hello, this summer’s lovely campers,” a female voice sounds. It’s the woman that stands on a table in front of us. She’s blessed with a sporty figure, yet the table is creaking underneath her. After we’ve arrived at camp we were brought here for an introduction.

  We’re gathered in one of the cabins, the largest I assume. It’s filled with tables and chairs that are currently stacked next to the windows. This must be the cabin where we’ll have breakfast, lunch and dinner.

  “I’m Brenda,” she says. “We’re pleased to welcome you to the nineteenth annual Hawkins Valley Summer Camp. We’re looking forward to lots of fun, games, activities, great landscapes and food. But for now we need to talk about organizational issues. On the board outside of this hall you can find a list of names and cabin numbers. We also have several copies with us, so you can either ask us or look at the list outside. Please do so after we’re done here.”

  Brenda tells us about the camp’s safety instructions and plenty of rules to follow. Do not swim in the lake all alone. Food and drinks are not allowed in your cabins. Do not smoke or drink alcohol. Breakfast is served at seven am, lunch at twelve and dinner at seven pm. No boys in the girls’ cabins and vice versa. If you sign up for any optional activities you need to inform the counselors in case you can’t go. Wear your life jackets when canoeing. Remember that teamwork is important. Don’t litter. Have fun!

  “Any questions so far?,” Brenda adds.

  A girl in the front row raises her arm. The room is completely crowded even though we left all of our luggage and bags outside. “Can we go to the lake this afternoon?”

  “You can,” Brenda replies. “But keep in mind that we’re meeting before sunset and do a campfire and a BBQ, and we roast marshmallows.”

  There aren’t any other questions, so she tells us to grab a sandwich that are being handed out at the pass-through that separates this room from the kitchen. I decide to grab one and go outside to look at the list. I can’t find my name at first. There must be about a hundred names on here.

  “Are you a first-timer at Hawkins?,” a girl next to me asks. She has beautiful black curls. She looks like the daughter of my neighbors.

  “I’ve never been here,” I say and smile at her. “I’m Tana.”

  “Layla,” she says and looks at the list. “Cabin sixteen. So, you are Tana Sydney Rhodes?”

  I nod.

  “We’re in the same cabin,” she says cheerfully. As she looks at me smiling, I feel like maybe it isn’t as horrible to be here as I thought. Grandma was right. Sometimes she knows best what I need. She was the one who assumed it would help me to be homeschooled. She was the one who forced me to start living again after what happened. I can’t hide myself forever. Put a blanket over my head and drown in my sorrows. I need to go out and have fun.

  “I’ve heard that one of the Swedish royals spent a summer at camp without them noticing,” Layla says while walking to our cabin. “Well, one of the extended family. Have you been to Europe?”

  “No, never,” I reply. “I’ve been to most countries in South America though.”

  “Cool,” she says and stops. “Sixteen. Here we are.”

  The cabins seem to be placed randomly across the meadow. Someone has put our names onto the door. Colorful wooden letters decorate the front door. Allison, Layla, Gigi, Hannah and Tana. Five girls in a cabin made for six. Inside there are six bunk beds. Two of them are already occupied, which can be recognized by the clothes and bags that are placed on the fitted sheets. On each mattress there are a duvet and a pillow as well as duvet and pillow covers.

  For most of these girls and boys the camp experience serves as a way to live independently. Self-reliant. To take responsibility. Not for me. I do not just put clean sheets on my bed, I launder them. I do not just cook for myself, I wash the dishes. I don’t care that we have to clean our dishes. Having someone to cook for me feels like being on vacation. Sometimes Granny cooks for me on the weekends but she has to take care of Mom.

  Only when someone’s voice sounds I realize one of our roommates is sitting on her bed. “Hey girls, I’m Allie,” she says and climbs down the latter.

  I say my name at the same time as Layla does. “Where are you from?”

  “New Haven,” she says.

  The door behind us opens and another girls appears. She runs into the room and stops in front of the bunk bed next to Allie’s only to jump and grab her bag.

  “This is Hannah,” Allie says.

  “Hey guys,” Hannah says without looking at us. “My battery died. Do you have a charger.” I’m pretty sure she’s talking to Allie, so I don’t reply.

  “Apple or Android?,” Layla asks.

  “Apple,” Hannah says. “I have an iPhone.” As if there’s another phone produced and sold by Apple.

  “I have a charger,” Layla says and opens her bag.

  In the meanwhile Allie asks us, “where are you from?”

  “I’m from Cherokee, Connecticut,” I say.

  “I live in England,” Layla says and looks up. “Liverpool.” She turns towards Hannah and hands her the charger. “And you, Hannah?”

  Instead of Hannah Allie replies, “we go to the same private boarding school in New Haven. Well, we went to the same boarding school. We just graduated.”

  The way she puts emphasize on private makes me develop an intensive urge to roll my eyes.

  “New Haven,” Layla repeats. “The Yale one?”

  “Yup,” Allie says.

  “I’m in my final year,” I say. I don’t mention that I’m homeschooled. There are too many prejudices against people like me. It’s true, we’re as awkward as Cady Heron at first since we’ve rarely had any of those average high school problems. We speak another language. “What are your plans after school?”

  “I’m gonna go to …,” Allie says but it interrupted by Hannah.

  “We’re gonna study at USC,” Hannah explains while Allie squints and looks down.

  “Yeah,” Allie says and shrugs. “Let’s go outside. I don’t want to be in a sticky room when there’s a lake, food and hot guys outside.”

  “There might be hot guys outside,” Hannah says and giggles. “I haven’t seen many yet.”

  “Okay,” Layla says.

  I turn around and open the door but bump into someone as soon as I step outside. She stumbles and clings to me, so she doesn’t fall over.

  “Sorry,” the brunette girl says as soon as she’s on her feet again. “Hi.”

  “You must be Gigi,” I say and reach out. I hear Hannah laugh behind my back.

  We shake hands, then she turns towards Layla, “hey.”

  “Layla,” she says. “We’re on our way out. Come join us.”

  Gigi nods. “Sure.”

 
As we walk through the woods towards the lake Layla asks her, “are you from New Haven as well?”

  “How do you know?,” Gigi replies perplexed.

  “Hannah and Allie told us they’re from a boarding school in New Haven,” Layla explains. “And you all have the same emblem on your jacket, socks and blouses.”

  As I look at Gigi, Hannah and Allie I understand what she means. Gigi is wearing a blouse with a small emblem right above her heart. Hannah and Allie have the exact same emblem on their jackets that hung from their bunk beds in our cabin.

  “True,” Gigi says.

  “Why do you guys bring your school uniform to a summer camp?,” Layla asks and walks a little faster in order to keep up with Allie and Hannah who walk in front of us.

  “Because it’s not a regular uniform. It’s like wearing Nike or Ralph Lauren,” she replies without turning around. “Why do people buy and wear Harvard sweatshirts even though they do not and never will study at Harvard? Same reason.”

  I wonder what it’s like to be accustomed to life at a boarding school that opens doors for you. A boarding school that makes people assume you’re smart and hard-working, just because the school’s name suggests it. When I finish my diploma via homeschooling I will have to open doors for me myself. I won’t be granted a scholarship with no extracurricular activities, average grades and average motivation. I could claim that none of this is my fault and due to my circumstances, but I assume other people with a heavy fate do better.

  “I get it,” Layla says. “My friend has one of those Harvard sweatshirts. She doesn’t even try to get into Harvard.”

  “Classic,” Allie says. “At our school it’s scholarship holders that try to cover up their ghetto background by wearing things like that.” She turns towards Hannah. “Do you remember that one girl, Karina, that sat next to me in biology? She had a fake Louis Vuitton and swore it was a real LV bag.”

  “Karina,” Allie repeats. “Yeah, she’s a lying bitch. She works at a call center.” Allie turns towards us. “She doesn’t go to our school anymore.”

  “That’s because she’s back in Russia,” Gigi pipes up. “Her visa had expired.”

  “That serves her right,” Hannah says. “One better not pretends to be someone they’re not.”

  “Like pretending to be pretty and cool,” Allie says and laughs.

  For a moment I wasn’t sure what I should think about these girls. I don’t like to prejudice people I’ve just met but right now their conversation heavily smells like arrogance.

  “Look,” Layla says and points at the lakefront.“

  “They’re swimming in the lake,” she says. “Let’s join them.”

  “I don’t have my bikini with me,” I say and look at the boys and girls who are splashing around.

  “Me neither,” Gigi says.

  “You’re at a camp with an amazing lake and you’re not wearing a bikini underneath your clothes?,” Hannah says tauntingly, then she removes her dress and flip-flops and runs towards the lake.

  “Just go swim in your underwear,” Allie says. “No one cares. The counselors and boys can’t tell the difference. Or are you wearing something too revealing?”

  “I don’t,” Layla says and undressed herself. Her black underwear, consisting of a hipster and a sports bra, is simple and doesn’t look like underwear at all.

  “Have fun,” I say to them. “I’ll stay here, my underwear is indeed too revealing.”

  I’m not a fan of hipsters or boyshorts, so most of the time I’m wearing a thong or tanga. I don’t need the others to see my butt.

  “And you?,” I ask Gigi.

  “I’d rather stay here,” she replies. She’s crossed her arms and she’s shaking as if she’s cold.

  “Do you need a jacket?,” I ask. “We could go back and get you one.”

  “No, I’m good,” she affirms.

  We sit down on the ground where some of the others have picnics, eating the sandwiches that were handed out during Brenda’s welcome address.

  “Did you graduate with Allie and Hannah?,” I ask curiously.

  She nods. “I did.”

  “What are you gonna do?,” I ask.

  “Go to college,” she answers. Could she be any less precise?

  “Where?,” I say. In that moment I realize I haven’t thought about where to go to college. I haven’t dealt with my college applications for the next year. Grandma thinks it’s time for me to attend a regular high school. One nearby. Horace Blake, which isn’t a regular high school. It’s one of the best high schools in the state and in the country. She can afford sending me there for my last year, so she shared this proposal with me a few weeks ago. She had talked to the principal and he approved.

  “Yale,” Gigi suddenly says.

  “That’s great,” I say. USC, Yale, … those New Haven girls seem to be spoiled when it comes to college admission. I’ve watched so many videos on YouTube of girls who filmed their college decision reaction. Most of them seem to have just applied for Ivy League colleges, so they could film a video because most of them didn’t get in.

  I remember one girl who got into one college out of twenty but apparently that one was her first priority. She was surrounded by her family, who were both physically present and visible on the screen via skype. They began screaming and jumping when she read the acceptance letter. I don’t remember what college it was. I’ve rarely heard of it. It wasn’t Yale or Harvard, MIT or USC. The second thing that comes to my mind is the college admission scandal. Did Hannah and Allison let their parents pay for admission? Did they pretend to be into rowing?

  I wince as something hits my head.

  chapter 23

  When I open my eyes I see Layla’s pretty dark eyes. Her black curls fall down on my face.

  “Damn it,” I say. “What hit me?”

  “A volleyball,” she explains. Her black underwear is wet and wrapped around her body tightly. She helps me sit up again and starts laughing. I laugh as well but then I close my eyes.

  “My head hurts so much,” I say.

  “Drink something,” Gigi says and hands me a bottle of water. “Actually, you should know that Layla hit you.”

  “You did what?,” I say, feigning outrage.

  “Sorry,” she says, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’ve never played beach volleyball before, let alone regular volleyball.”

  “You attacked me,” I joke.

  A few hours later we support Brenda and her team prepare the campfire and BBQ. As I said we’re encouraged to help with everything. At camp we have to help build a big white tent near the lake where we will do the BBQ. The only thing we’re not supposed to help with is deep clean the sanitary area, but we are responsible for keeping the showers, sinks, mirrors and toilets clean. None of the other girls have probably spent much time in their lives with housekeeping or the care of relatives. Not even after they’ve married the first business or law graduate they meet at college will they be bothered with the duties of a housewife. They will be busy going to hair and nail salons, buying shoes and instructing their nanny and domestic help.

  As soon as the sun sets we grab our marshmallows and twist bread, salad and grilled meat, and sit down in a circle around the fire. Hannah and Allie tell us about the emergence and development of their friendship. How Hannah once stole a boyfriend from Allie. How they’re so lucky to go to the same college. Gigi refuses to eat one of Hannah’s sausages, which Hannah then throws at her. We all giggle and laugh like it’s a great joke but deep down some of us don’t think it’s funny. Hannah is someone who makes you laugh with her, even though you would rather not because the issue is too serious after all. Of course, Hannah doesn’t want to eat the sausages after it landed in the grass.

  “You know that an animal had to die for this, right?,” Gigi says. “So that you can throw it onto the ground.”

  “Poor piggy,” Hannah says. “Was it your one of your relatives?”

  “Hey, she’s right,” Layla
intervenes, “it’s sad. At least don’t waste it.”

  “True,” Hannah says but I can hear it in her voice that she doesn’t mean it.

  This should not be the last time that Hannah does something like that. I get annoyed by the way she treats others. She constantly cusses, she bosses some of the others around and she produces a lot of waste. She never keeps our cabin clean, she watches Netflix or plays loud music in the middle of the night when the rest of us want to sleep and she always leaves her clothes and other belongings spread across the cabin. She’s someone who should have a separate room.

  Every morning we tromp through the grass and mud to the cabin where all of our meals are served. But we rarely have breakfast together. Most days Hannah and Allie turn around in their chairs and talk to other people. Sometimes one of them gets up and walks away to sit at another table. Sometimes other girls and boys join us but Layla, Gigi and I can be found at our usual spot. After a while we understood that the cabins are also assigned to us based on the duration of our stay at the camp. You were able to choose between four and six weeks. All of the girls in my cabin stay for six weeks.

  After three weeks the camp host the infamous bonfire night. Hannah told me some of the girls last year lost their virginity that night. Officially sex is not allowed at camp but even the counselors know that teenagers aren’t always as innocent as they look. And most camp counselors have done worst things at that age. They are, however, strict with regards to drug abuse. Because they can be made responsible for that, not so much for pregnant girls.

  Traditionally you dress up for bonfire night. Most girls use the opportunity to dress in a quite slutty way. We decide to get dressed and go to the lake together. Hannah’s putting on black tights, a low-cut black mini dress and black boots while I’m braiding my hair. I’m dressing up as Red Riding Hood. I have a red hooded rain coat.

  I’ve never liked Halloween, so I’m not exactly a fan of costumes. I’ve experienced the wild and lavish celebrations for carnival in Brazil, but nothing can convince me that dressing up is fun. Allie stands in front of the small mirror, the only one in our cabin, which is only as big as my head, so you can’t really check your outfit properly. We’ve tried to dress up in the shower rooms, but they’re crowded with girls. On every single day.