Pranked (19 page)

“Some people actually cry?” I asked. Everybody had been talking about how sad the Circle Fire was going to be. I didn't really get it.

“Some people? Try everyone. Everyone cries,” Jennifer told me.

“Even the counselors? Even Eda?” I asked. I dug through my trunk for my white Pine Haven polo. I'd never admit this to anyone, but I actually liked wearing the uniform—white polos with a green Pine Haven logo and white shorts. We only had to wear it on Sundays and special occasions, which wasn't too bad. And it made me feel like I was part of something. Just like the wristbands did.

“Some counselors cry. Eda never cries, but almost every single camper does,” said Jennifer.

I looked at Reb. I couldn't imagine her crying. She was too cool. She must've read my mind, because she said, “It's not like all the other campfires. The Circle Fire's different. Everybody's all serious. It's the time to say good-bye.”

Molly and Jordan walked in, and instead of going over to their side like they usually did, they came over and sat around on our side, and a few minutes later so did Erin and Brittany. We were all still talking about the talent show the night before.

“Good job, guys,” said Reb. “Sorry we didn't help you out too much.”

“Yeah, it was great. A lot better than if we'd been involved, I'm sure,” said Jennifer. We did feel bad that all of us on Side A had dumped the talent show on the B girls, but they did a really great act. They dressed up like Tarzan and Jane and a couple of monkeys and did a dance routine. It was freaking hilarious. It ended up being one of the best acts.

“Thanks, guys,” Molly said. “We owe it all to Jordan,” which was kind of a joke, because Jordan got sick and had to go to the infirmary. She almost missed the whole thing. Poor Jordan. There was always something to stress her out.

The screen door banged and Melissa came in. When she saw us all sitting there, she froze for a second, like she didn't want to come in.

“Hey, what's up?” asked Molly.

“I was just going to get dressed,” said Melissa. “What's happening with the CAs? Did anyone hear?” At least Melissa was trying to interact with the rest of us.

“I heard none of them are getting hired back next year,” whispered Jordan.

“No way!” whispered Brittany. “That's so unfair!”

“I'm not sure that's true,” said Erin. “I think everyone's saying that, but I doubt Eda will actually be that tough on them.”

It was a huge deal. All the CAs, including Tis, had been caught in a prank against Camp Crockett, and the rumors were that they were in huge, huge trouble with Eda. We didn't even know what had happened for sure. Some people said they'd been caught at Camp Crockett late at night in the middle of the prank. Some people said they hadn't actually left Pine Haven yet, but were in a van on their way over there when Eda found out about it. None of us knew what had happened, and Tis would hardly say a word. She was obviously upset about it, but she wouldn't tell us what happened.

“That would suck so bad if they couldn't come back next year,” said Reb. “I'm coming back until I'm a counselor. I plan on working here every summer till I graduate from college.”

We all said we wanted to come back next year too. Even Melissa chimed in and said
she
was coming back. I found
that
hard to believe. Maybe she said it because we were all saying it. Or maybe she really did want to come back.

Reb and Melissa didn't look at each other, of course. Ignoring each other was probably the best they'd ever do. At least it was better than open warfare.

All of a sudden, Rachel's face appeared, pressed up against the window screen. “Ah, look at my little chickadees! All here together. I can't believe you're all leaving the nest tomorrow. That makes me so sad!” Her face was scrunched up in a fake cry.

“Where's Tis? Are the CAs getting fired?” asked Jennifer.

Rachel came inside and plopped down on her bed. “They're not getting fired.” She had on her green polo that the counselors wore.

“Are they going to get hired back next year?” asked Molly.

Rachel shrugged and didn't say anything. We could tell she didn't really want us to ask her about it. She kept changing the subject, talking to us about how we were going home tomorrow and asking if we had everything packed. And then it was time to go.

So all of us in Cabin 1 walked down to the Circle Fire together. It was just before dark, and the light was really soft and gray. We could see a few lightning bugs light up here and there above the grass. The Circle Fire was at Lakeview Rock. It was almost like a rock cliff that you could walk out on, and it was big enough for the whole camp to sit on. If you walked to the edge, you could stand there overlooking the lake.

By the time we got there, the big campfire was already lit and a bunch of campers were sitting down in a circle around it. We all sat down together. Gloria Mendoza, a counselor in Cabin 4, was softly playing one of Pine Haven's mellow songs on her guitar. The smell of wood smoke filled the air. I could feel the heat from the fire on my face, but the air on my back was nice and cool.

We started off singing songs, but none of the rowdy, loud songs that we sang in the dining hall during meals. We sang serious songs about sisterhood and friendship. Reb and Jennifer were right. Everyone was all quiet, and the mood was pretty solemn. It was like the fire hypnotized us. We were all just singing and staring into it, listening to it pop and crack.

People took turns standing up and giving speeches about what camp meant to them. Eda tried to balance things out by asking old campers and new campers to say something. A few counselors gave little speeches too.

I sat there and looked around at everyone. I couldn't believe that this was really our last night of camp. Tomorrow we'd all be going home. No wonder everyone cried at the Circle Fire. I had to come back next year. And the summer after that. That was the only way I could stand to leave tomorrow, if I knew that camp didn't have to end forever.

Now some of the counselors were opening up cardboard boxes and passing around little white candles to all of us. Then Eda stood up to give her speech. “Every summer since 1921, girls just like you have been coming to Pine Haven. And every summer when it's time to say good-bye, we have a Circle Fire. Good-byes are difficult, but they're necessary.”

By that time pretty much everybody was crying. Some girls were just sniffling and looking red-eyed, but others were really sobbing. We all had our arms around each other's shoulders. Eda stuck a long wooden match into the fire to light it. Then she lit her candle and turned and lit the candle of the counselor standing next to her. Then the counselor passed the flame to the girl next to her, and we kept passing the flame around from one person to the next. Finally, after the flame had been passed all the way around, all our candles were lit.

“Every summer we all come together for one month, which always seems to fly by much faster than we want it to. While we're all together, we form a whole. We're the girls and young women of Pine Haven. It's that sense of togetherness that makes our camp such a special place. But tomorrow we'll leave Pine Haven to go back to our homes and families. The campfires will all be out here.”

Then Libby, my old friend from Solitary, and another counselor picked up shovels and threw dirt onto the fire until all the flames were out. That made everything a lot darker, except for all our little candles.

“Tonight, on our last night at camp, I'd like you to think about what each of your flames has added to the fire at Pine Haven. And also think about what the fire at Pine Haven has added to each of your flames.”

Then Eda stepped back, and we all just stood there, really quiet, holding our candles in front of our faces. With the whole camp there, we made a really big circle. You could see the flames flickering a little, and now with the fire out, the night air felt really cool. In the candlelight, everyone looked alike. We were all wearing our white polos and holding candles. It was strange that you sometimes couldn't even tell who was who. But I liked it. It was really pretty and nice.

Now we started to walk away from the campfire. We could walk around with our candles for a while before we went to the cabins. But we couldn't talk. That was the tradition. From now till tomorrow morning, we couldn't say anything. We had to respect the tradition and keep silent. As people walked away, all the lights from the candles bobbed up and down. Pretty soon you could see them all over the hill. I couldn't believe how beautiful the night looked, with all the little flames scattered all around. Down by the lake, you could see candles along the bank, and the lake itself looked like black glass.

I walked along with all the other Cabin 1 girls back up the hill, tilting my candle forward a little so the warm wax would drip in the grass instead of running down my arm. I was still sniffling. Jennifer was right. Everyone had cried. Even Reb got pretty teary toward the end. By the time we got up to the cabin, we blew out our candles and got undressed and into bed without turning on any lights.

Silent and dark and sad. That's how I'll always remember the last night.

“I promise I'll e-mail all of you at least once,” said Brittany. “But if you don't write me back, I won't keep bugging you, so . . .”

“I'd rather IM,” said Molly. “Or text, except my parents refuse to buy me unlimited, so I have to pay for all my text messages.”

That was pretty much the conversation at breakfast—what was the best way to keep in touch: by phone, e-mail, or some variation. I was just trying really hard not to puke. The smell of oatmeal and greasy link sausages didn't help any. Just thinking about the ride home in the car through those windy mountain roads made me queasy.

But once breakfast ended and we went outside, the fresh air calmed my stomach a little. All the counselors were wearing their green Pine Haven polos and white shorts so they'd look official for the parents. The last day. Tonight I'd be sleeping in my own bed at home. I dreaded having to wait around for my parents to get here. I just wanted to snap my fingers and be home.

Everything was as bustling as it had been on the first day. A truck full of Camp Crockett counselors pulled up, and the guys hopped out to help move trunks and carry stuff. Already a few cars were driving up the gravel road. Pretty much the entire camp was standing around on the hill, waiting.

“I can't believe this is really happening,” moaned Jennifer. “We're leaving. This is the end. Tomorrow we won't even see each other, and then the day after that . . .”

“Shut up, all right? We get it,” Reb snapped at her. “It's bad enough. You're just making it worse.”

The two of them were leaving for the Asheville airport at eleven o'clock. My parents had said in their last e-mail that they'd be here sometime in the middle of the morning, whatever that meant. I refused to look at my watch.

It was horrible. We said good-bye to Erin first, and some other people, and then some more people. Somehow Brittany left and we didn't even get a chance to say good-bye to her. Then Rachel came and found us and said that Melissa was leaving.

“Don't you want to say something to her?” she asked us before walking off to greet Melissa's mom.

Jennifer looked at Reb and me. “How about, ‘Sorry we ruined your life. Hope you don't turn psycho'?”

Reb tried not to smile. “What do you think, Kel? Should we say anything to her?” She was pretty much the same old Reb as before, except now she seemed to ask my opinion more than she used to.

“Wouldn't hurt to say good-bye,” I suggested.

We walked over to Melissa's car. Tis and Rachel were giving her a hug, and Molly and Jordan were there too, telling her to have a good year and they hoped they'd see her next summer and blah, blah, blah.

Melissa got into her car and closed the door. She was probably glad to be leaving early. She saw me through the half-open window and smiled and waved. I noticed she was wearing her bracelet. I waved back and smiled too.

“Good-bye!” we all yelled as the car turned around in the gravel and drove away.

At least we'd said good-bye to her.

Jennifer shrugged. “Well, that wasn't so bad.”

“No, but this is going to be.” Reb pointed to a blue van where Eda stood with her clipboard. It was the eleven o'clock van to the Asheville airport. She was starting to call off names.

“God, this sucks. We've got to go,” said Jennifer, on the verge of tears.

“I forgot something!” Reb said all of a sudden. “In the cabin—hang on a second!” She took off and was halfway up the hill before Jennifer and I even figured out what was going on.

Jennifer looked at me. “What's she doing? She couldn't have left anything. . . .”

“I know. She checked and rechecked everything about fifty times,” I said. We started up the hill after her to see what she was up to, but she met us on the way down.