Sleepaway Girls (11 page)

This video could actually be — dare I say it — fun. Ashley seemed excited too.

“I have to figure out what I’m going to wear on camera,” she said. “I need something that will really bring out my eyes.” She stood up and started pacing the room. “I might have to borrow something from Gabby so that no one has seen my outfit before. I’ll definitely need to wear more makeup. Oh! And I want to do good interviews, you know? I’m not interviewing just anybody,” she insisted. “If this is going to work, I need a big story. I’m not interviewing Mrs. Morberry about her years of Pines service. I want a story with juice.”

A story with juice. That was it! Ashley was a genius. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say.

Ashley frowned, her bottom lip curling into an Angelina-worthy pout. “Are you writing any of my suggestions down? Just because I’m the star of this project, doesn’t mean I don’t get any say on the production, you know.”

I cut her off. “I completely understand. You can have a ton of creative control. But there is one story I have in mind that you have to do. Everyone will be talking about it. It’s juicy,” I added, knowing that would do the trick.

“What is it?” Ashley asked, her smile getting bigger by the second. She folded her skinny legs under her. “Spill it.”

I took a deep breath. This had to work. If it didn’t, I was out of options. And time. The talent show was just a few days before camp ended. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know for the interview,” I said, “but you have to listen and for once, you have to promise not to interrupt till I’m done.”

When Hitch stopped by the isolation bunk later on and heard our pitch, he thought it was brilliant. He stressed we needed to keep the story PG so that the peeps could watch, but beyond that, we could interview anyone we wanted. And after that, we were free. Walking out of the cabin and into the open mountain air never felt so good. Starving, I headed right up to the mess hall to see if I could beg Beaver for an early dinner. I was steps from the porch when I saw Mrs. Morberry trying to flag me down.

“Samantha! You have a phone call on the main line,” the older woman said frantically. “It’s your mother. She said it’s urgent. I said I’d find you. I’m glad I didn’t have to go far to look because this leg is killing me.”

I hadn’t had a call all summer. I’d called Mom when we’d been allowed to phone home, but she’d never called here looking for me. Did Hitch tell my mom about the food fight after all? If so, it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

I followed Mrs. Morberry a few yards away to the main office and stepped inside the air-conditioned cabin. She pointed to her desk phone. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she said, and headed into the other room to heat up her dinner. The smell of her lasagna leftovers made my stomach growl.

“Hello?” I said, holding the phone as far away from my ear as I could so that Mom’s yelling didn’t shatter my eardrum.

“Sam? It’s me!”

Wait a minute. That didn’t sound like Mom. “Mal?” I whispered.

“Yes, it’s me, silly,” she said. “This is the only number I could find for camp. I wasn’t sure they’d get you if I said I was a friend, so I said I was your mom.”

Just hearing Mal’s voice was comforting, like my favorite fleece blanket that I always wrapped myself in at home while I was watching
American Idol.
Any thoughts of being mad at her for betraying our video secrecy to Mark went flying out the window. This was my best friend on the line, and I needed her. “More than okay,” I whispered as Mrs. Morberry walked back into the room.

“I’m going to eat outside on the porch,” she told me. “Just hang up when you’re done.”

I nodded and waited till she’d let the door slam behind her to continue. “Thank God you called, Mal; I’ve made a huge mess of things up here.”

“I knew something was wrong!” Mal said, her voice jumping the way it did whenever she got excited. Usually it was over a picture of Johnny Depp or a viewing of
The Notebook.
“I haven’t gotten a video from you in weeks. That’s why I hunted you down. I thought something had happened to you.”

That made me feel guilty, and even though I knew my time was limited, I had to speak my mind. “About that,” I said slowly. “There is a reason I haven’t sent you another video.”

“What do you mean?” Mal asked, sounding surprised.

“At first, it was because I was mad about your last video,” I explained. “It was so short, which mine never were, and on top of that you showed it to Mark. I thought our messages were sacred.”

“I’m sorry about the tape,” Mal apologized. “I felt guilty as I was taping it. I knew it was short, but Mark was always around and I didn’t want him to hear everything I had to say. How could I talk about him suffocating me when he was there? It’s so annoying, Sam!” She groaned. “He wants to spend every single second together, even if he’s just playing
Rock Band
and I’m watching. I told him I needed time to do something alone, but when he didn’t get the hint, I let him be part of it. But when I mailed it to you, I instantly regretted it. I knew I was breaking our friendship code. Anyway, after a few more weeks of Mark being all over me, I’d had enough. We’re kind of on a break,” she told me.

Cole would never be that kind of boyfriend. He was too self-reliant. But I didn’t tell Mal that. It would just bum her out if I told her how cool the guy I met was compared to her suck-the-life-out-of-you boyfriend. But in a weird way, maybe it was good that Mal had that experience. Her and Mark being attached at the hip was kind of the way she and I were pre-Malomark. Too much togetherness is never good. You have to stand on your own two feet.

“I’m sorry about Mark,” I said. “And I shouldn’t put this whole tape thing on you. It’s my fault for promising to send you so many. I was killing myself trying to get the tapes done and I really didn’t have the time. I missed you, but I was enjoying camp and things were so busy that I got tired of sneaking off during my rare free time to send you a video.”

“You should have said something,” Mal pointed out. “I had no idea you were so busy.”

“I know,” I admitted. “I guess I realized there’s nothing wrong with having fun separately.”

“Yeah, but I like doing stuff together too,” Mal said, sounding slightly hurt. “I thought you did too.”

“I do,” I said quickly, “but sometimes, well, I have a confession to make.” I had to tell her the truth. “Sometimes I do things because you want to do them. Like kickline. I don’t want to be a Rockette. I like cheerleading. So maybe I do cheerleading and you do kickline and that’s okay.”

The other end of the line was silent. “You’re right,” Mal said finally, her voice quieter than it was before. “I had no idea I was being so demanding. It didn’t even occur to me that maybe you’d want to do something else. You never say anything.”

“That’s going to change,” I promised. “I’m going to tell you if I don’t want to do something. I’m not going to be afraid to try new things alone. I think I learned something about myself this summer — figuring things out on my own can be kind of scary, but it’s also kind of fun.” I filled Mal in a little bit on the sleepaway girls and about Cole and Hunter and the drama of the last week and Ashley and my talent show plan.

“I cannot believe you started a food fight!” Mal giggled. “Neither of us can stand Patty Prince and her snide comments on the lunch line, but you’ve never thrown orange juice at her. Why haven’t we thought of that before?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Quietly, of course. If Mrs. Morberry didn’t hear me, maybe she wouldn’t realize how long I’d been on the phone. “I’ve definitely become braver on this trip,” I added.

“I can tell,” Mal agreed. “I think camp suits you — even if I do miss you like mad. Having Mark as my sidekick this summer just wasn’t the same thing as having you here. There is no way I’m going to let you go back to that place next year!”

We both laughed again. Mal because she was being funny, and me because deep down I knew I couldn’t imagine spending my summer anywhere but at the Pines. I was starting to understand why Grace marked the days till the first day of camp on her school year calendar. And why Court traveled two thousand miles from home to sleep on a lumpy mattress. But I didn’t need to say that to Mal. Not now anyway. I was coming back to camp next year, no matter what. But instead of saying that, I asked Mal something I knew she could answer. “So what do you think about my plan for Cole?”

“I’m so proud of you, Sam,” she said. “You sound so sure of yourself for a change. I think if Cole hears what
really-
happened, he’ll forgive you. If he doesn’t, he’s an idiot.”

“Sam?” Mrs. Morberry interrupted us. “I’m sorry, but I have a newsletter to get out before dinner.”

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I said regretfully. “I miss you and I can’t wait to see you in a week.”

“Hang in there, Sam,” Mal told me. “If anyone can clean up this mess, you can. I’ll see you soon. Good luck!”

I hung up, thanked Mrs. Morberry for patching “Mom” through, and headed to the mess hall for some grub. For once, I felt ready to take on the world.

21

“Guys, stop laughing or we’ll never finish this!” I said, even though I couldn’t stop laughing myself.

Court, Grace, Em, and I were huddled at the lakefront filming our last sleepaway girls testament of the camp season (Meg had kindly given us back the recorder this afternoon along with my backpack full of our tapes). The final campfire had just ended and we were supposed to be gathering our sleeping bags and heading to the great lawn for the sleepover party. Ashley and Gabby ran ahead to ensure they got a prime location near Patrick and Gavin. But for the rest of my bunk, there was something more important than boys that we had to take care of first.

I placed the palmcorder gently on the window ledge of the boathouse and made sure you could see everyone in the viewfinder. Then I ran back to the girls to begin taping. The four of us linked arms. I pressed record on my remote.

“This is our final sleepaway girls entry for the summer,” Court narrated. “I’m pretty sad. But even though I live farther away than any of you, I know this won’t be our last tape of the year.”

“You said you’re going to ask your parents to come to New York for Christmas,” Em reminded her. “Or the Thanksgiving Day parade.”

“And we’re going to beg our parents to let us visit over spring break,” I added.

“I’m definitely not missing the chance to climb Squaw Peak.” Grace was obsessed with this mountain in Phoenix loads of people liked to hike. I didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her hiking and physical activity weren’t going to be on my vacation agenda.

“I’m going to really miss you guys,” Court added, and for a second she sounded choked up, which was pretty rare for Court. She never showed emotion about anything other than describing Donovan’s abs.

Em sniffled. “We’ll call and e-mail all the time.” Her eyes were misty too.

“I know,” Court squeaked. “And who knows? Maybe my parents will let me use their video camera and we can tape each other messages.”

Em and Grace squealed while I, on the other hand, moaned. “I thought I was done with the lengthy video monologues,” I jokingly complained. “Remember? I have a life now. I’m trying not to be a people pleaser anymore. This school year is all about the new, assertive, in-control me.” Court nudged me. “But I guess I could do a few, time permitting,
if
you all sent tapes as well.”

“Do you think we should say something important?” Em asked. “Like sum up our summer?”

“Grace could be here all night doing that,” Court kidded. Grace gave her a stern look that reminded me of my mother.

“Why don’t we just tell the truth?” Grace asked. “This summer was ten times better than summers past because Sam was here.”

I blushed. “You guys are just saying that.”

“I’m serious!” Grace said, and coming from her, I know she must have meant it. “We’ve always gotten along, but we’ve never been as close as we are this year, and that’s because of you and this video madness.”

“Next year we’re going to rule this place,” Court said gleefully. “I can’t wait to be an official counselor. Well, a junior counselor at least. If Donovan comes back, then we can actually date!” Donovan had told Court at the dance last night that he thought she was really cute, and that next year he might be able to say more than that if she was a junior counselor. Court practically did backflips around the hamburger line.

“You’re definitely coming back, right, Sam?” Grace asked worriedly.

“You’re stuck with me.” I grinned. “And so is Ashley.”

Em was teary. “I don’t want to go home!” she complained. “I-I-I don’t want to face the school year without you guys.”

Grace shushed her. Court actually hiccupped. I thought I might cry too.

That first day, I didn’t even think I’d last a week. Now I didn’t want to leave the girls or Cole. The last few days with him had been amazing. We’d gone on early morning jogs (me jogging!), taken walks around the lake at dusk, and spent every possible moment we had together. Just when we were finally getting to really hang out, I had to go home and, unlike Grace and Em, who only lived about an hour from me in New Jersey, Cole lived up here, only a half hour from the Pines; a whole two and a half hours from me. I was trying not to think about what that meant for our chances.

“Grace and I are going to see you next Saturday to go school clothes shopping in Manhattan,” I reminded Em. That seemed to calm her down a little bit.

“Why don’t we forget about our goodbyes and go get our sleeping bags?” Court suggested. “There’ll be time for crying tomorrow. Right now I want to score a sleeping location with a view of Donovan.” The three of us glared at her. “As long as it’s near you guys, of course.”

We all burst out laughing. Again. I almost forgot the camera was running, but I looked over and saw the little green light blinking. “Guys, we’re still taping! Any last words?”

“I’m thankful that I have friends who could pull me away from my books,” Em said.

“I’m thankful for friends who put up with my type-A personality and competitive sportsmanship,” Grace said.

“I’m thankful for people who put up with my boy craziness!” Court laughed.

They all looked at me. “I’m thankful for the sleepaway girls.”

And on that note, it was time to stop recording.

Ten minutes later, we’d made it to the cabin and we were grabbing our stuff for the sleepover — our sleeping bags (which hadn’t been used once all summer since we didn’t go on the optional overnight camping trip in the mountains. I refused for fear of wolf sightings), warm sweatshirts, extra socks, snacks that Em’s mom sent us, extra pillowcases and a Sharpie, so that we could all sign each others’ pillowcases. It was a camp tradition, kind of like a school yearbook. We were down the steps when I realized I forgot my disposable camera. Court groaned.

“We’re already late,” she complained. “Do you really need it?”

“Yes, I need it,” I told her. “I want to take pictures of the four of us.”

“She means she wants to take pictures of her and Cole,” Grace said dryly.

I didn’t deny it. “You guys go on ahead and I’ll meet you there. Get me a good spot!” I headed back up the steps and walked inside the now bare bunk. It had been stripped down. The walls were empty, the cubbies were clean, and Meg’s tattered pink rug was rolled up in the corner along with the rest of her stuff. Before I got too depressed, I located my camera, rushed back out of the bunk and — OOOF!

“Sorry about that,” I laughed as I banged smack into someone walking by. I looked up.

It was Hunter. I hadn’t seen him since the talent show. He looked as cute as ever in a backward Dodgers ball cap, jeans, and a red American Eagle sweatshirt. His black eye was gone and his cherubic face was annoyingly, once more, perfect.

“Hey,” I said, feeling awkward.

“Hi, champ.” He grinned, and his smile practically lit up the path. “How have you been? I haven’t wanted to get too close for fear Cole might deck me again.”

I blushed. “Yeah, about that…”

He cut me off. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it. My man Cole won. I can handle defeat.”

Defeat? What was Hunter talking about? I stared at his face, so smug. How did I not see what a flirt he was on that first day? “Funny,” I deadpanned. I clutched my sleeping bag to my chest, hoping it would somehow put more space between us. “I’ve got to go.” I started walking away and then I turned back around. Hunter was still standing there, watching me. I had the overwhelming urge to say something, and if I didn’t do it now, the words would haunt me all winter.

“You kissed me, you know,” I told him.

Hunter kind of chuckled, and looked down at the ground. “I know that,” he said, and adjusted his cap. “You made that painfully clear in your video.” Then he looked up at me and his stare moved right through me. “But as I told you that night, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to.”

Freaked, I gripped my sleeping bag tightly to keep from passing out. I knew if I answered him, I’d say the wrong thing. So I said nothing and just turned around again, feeling Hunter’s eyes on me as I walked away and tried to keep his words out of my head.

“Hey!” Alexis said, spotting me as I made my way onto the great lawn a few minutes later. She was talking to our peeps, who were lined up in a row, snuggled close together. A few of them were crying as they signed each other’s pillowcases.

The lawn was packed. There were so many red, blue, yellow, and purple designer sleeping bags; I had no clue where my friends had put theirs. A huge projector had been set up at the edge of the lawn and was playing
Iron Man.
Beaver was in one corner serving hot chocolate and cookies. Everywhere you looked, people were hugging, or laughing, or crying. It felt like a high school graduation.

“We were wondering when you’d get here,” Alexis said to me. “The girls have been asking. They have something for you.”

Mackenzie reached into her sleeping bag and pulled out an oversized card made of poster paper. I could see it had hearts all over it and notes scribbled in crooked handwriting. She handed it to me. On the front it said, “TO THE BEST CIT EVER!”

I thought I might cry. I began hugging each and every one of them, sitting down for a few minutes to sign their pillowcases and to have them sign mine. Serena actually cried when I hugged her. I was going to really miss all of them.

“They loved having you as a CIT,” Alexis told me a few minutes later. “And I have too.”

“Really?” I asked softly. “Even after everything that’s happened?”

Alexis laughed. “You certainly haven’t kept in line as well as some of the other CITs I’ve had over the years,” she admitted. “But you have spunk, and you’ve got a great way with kids.” Her face turned serious. “I couldn’t be happier with my CIT choice for this summer and I think my father will be lucky to have you as a junior counselor next summer, that is, if you’ll come back.”

“UGH, Alexis, do you have to fawn all over her?” Ashley appeared, hovering over us, her cranky expression the only thing darkening her beauty.

It may have been close to 10 PM, but Ashley looked like she was ready for a party. Her hair was down and sort of curly and she was wearing a Juicy tank and low-slung jeans, even though it had to be 75 degrees. Ashley would suffer through anything for beauty. “You’re not coming back, are you?” she asked hopefully.

She already knew my answer, but I guess she wanted to hear me say it. “Sorry to disappoint you, Ash,” I said sweetly, “but I am
definitely
coming back next year and the year after that one.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “At least I have ten whole months to forget about you before we do this all over again.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I agreed. If there was one reason to look forward to the camp off-season, it was not having to see Ashley.

Alexis tried to stifle a laugh, but she couldn’t help it. She was looking at us both, and she covered her mouth, but the laughter was uncontrollable. “I’m sorry,” she practically panted, “but if you could see your faces. I just, you guys, I hate to break this to you, but I have a feeling you’re going to be seeing each other this winter and I have to say the thought of that makes me smile. You may not like each other, but by next summer, I predict this rivalry will be long over.”