Jenna’s heart fell. She had known this had to be coming, but she still didn’t want to hear it. “What’s my punishment?” she asked as they turned their steps toward the picnic tables at the edge of the woods.
“You’ll be getting up early every morning for the next two weeks and helping Roseanne feed the animals and clean their cages,” her mother said.
“Every morning?” Jenna blurted.
“Yes. Every morning,” her mother replied. “And if you ask me, Dr. Steve is going lightly on you. This is the least you can do to make up for that ridiculous prank.”
Jenna tucked her chin and tromped along, her hands hanging heavy at her sides. She knew what she had done was wrong, but that didn’t make taking the punishment any easier.
“Jenna, is there anything you want to talk to me about?” her mother asked, dropping down on a bench at one of the tables. She hefted her large purse onto the grainy wood and turned her intent gaze on Jenna.
Suddenly Jenna’s insides squirmed. “Like what?” she asked, sitting next to her mom.
“Like why you did this?” her mother asked. “I know you like to play jokes and mess around. I know you have a free spirit. But you’re a smart girl. This wasn’t a whoopee cushion or a trick pack of gum. You couldn’t have thought this prank was harmless.”
“I know,” Jenna said quietly.
“So what made you do it?” her mother asked, reaching out and running her fingers through Jenna’s hair, untangling it down her back. Usually Jenna loved her mother’s gentle, comforting touch, but after everything she had done, it just made her feel worse—like she didn’t deserve the attention.
“I don’t know,” Jenna said, knowing it was a lame answer.
“Well, let’s think about it,” her mother said, still combing. “What were you thinking about just before you let the animals into the dance? What were you feeling just then?”
Jenna flushed at the memory, her heart twisting in her chest.
“You can tell me, Jen,” her mom said. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I was . . . I was mad,” Jenna said finally. She stared at her sandaled feet, kicking out one, then the other, from under the bench.
“Mad at whom?” her mother asked gently.
“At Adam. And Stephanie,” Jenna said.
“Your brother and sister?” her mother said, sounding surprised. “Why?”
“Because they were having so much fun!” Jenna blurted, finally looking at her mom. “And I don’t get it! I don’t get why they get to have so much fun while I’m so . . . so . . .”
“So what, Jenna?” her mom asked her.
“So sad!” Jenna half-shouted, a tear spilling over onto her cheek.
Her mother’s eyes softened slightly, and she wrapped an arm around Jenna, pulling her to her side. Suddenly Jenna was crying loudly, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder to hide in case anyone happened to walk by.
“You’re sad about me and your dad splitting up?” her mother said quietly.
Jenna nodded into her mom’s arm and sniffled. “And no one else cares! They all act like there’s nothing going on! They act like dad is still going to be living there when we get home. Like . . . like everything hasn’t changed!”
“Oh, Jenna, I’m sure that’s not true,” her mother said. She wiped Jenna’s tears with her thumbs and smiled down at her. “Everyone reacts to this kind of thing in his or her own way. Are you really telling me that neither of them—not Adam, or Stephanie—has acted any differently this summer?”
Jenna sniffled again and thought hard. She thought about Adam and how he had tried to talk to her a couple of times about the upcoming divorce—how she had avoided talking about it. And come to think of it, Adam had been spending a lot of time taking pictures and sitting alone in the darkroom, when in the past he had been as active and athletic as Jenna was. Plus, Stephanie was even more mothering than usual this year. Maybe each one of them was just dealing with their family’s troubles in a different way.
“I guess,” Jenna said finally. “I guess they have been acting a little weird.”
Her mother sighed and looked out across the camp, watching as parents hugged their kids and walked off with them to tour the grounds. Jenna wished she were one of them. She wished she was happy and excited and rushing her mom and dad to meet her friends, like she had on every other Visiting Day. Jenna was sick of being upset.
“I’m sorry this is so hard for you guys,” her mother said. “I wish there was something I could do to make it easier.”
“I know,” Jenna said sadly. “I’m just sorry I made it harder for you,” she added, thinking about Matt’s letters and how he had warned her to not get into trouble this year. He had been trying to protect her parents because they had enough to deal with: the divorce, her father moving. But instead of helping him protect their parents, Jenna had made things worse.
“Oh, sweetie!” her mother said, kissing her quickly on the forehead. “Please! I’m not your responsibility. I’m supposed to worry about you, not the other way around.”
Jenna smiled slightly. “Well, okay, but I promise I’m not pulling any more pranks this summer,” she said. “You’re not going to get one more freak-out phone call.”
“Freak-out phone call?” her mother asked.
Jenna laughed. “Long story.”
“You’re a good kid—you know that?” her mother said, reaching out to hug her again. “A little nutty, but generally good,” she joked. Jenna grasped her mother tightly and closed her eyes. Everything was changing. She wished she could just stay here, hanging on to her mother forever, and that the rest of the world would just go back to the way it was.
“Hey! Look who’s here!” her mother said, releasing her.
Jenna turned around to follow her mother’s gaze, and her jaw dropped. There, walking toward her with her brothers and sister behind him, was her dad. He had a huge grin on his tanned face and was carrying a picnic basket bursting with food.
“Daddy!” Jenna shouted, running to him. Her brother laughed as she nearly tackled her father to the ground, but she couldn’t help it. She was so surprised to see him—to see them all together—that she could hardly control herself.
“Hey, Boo!” he said, planting a kiss atop her head. He handed the basket to Stephanie and put his hands on his hips. “I have a bone to pick with you.”
Jenna’s heart skipped a beat. Was her dad mad about the prank as well?
Her father pulled a folded copy of The Acorn out of his back pocket and opened to the list of awards.
“Now, I really think you should stop winning so many events,” he said. “It’s just not fair to the other kids.”
Jenna laughed as her dad ruffled her hair and draped his arm over her shoulder. Stephanie and Adam greeted their mother, and they all gathered around the table.
“Hello, Christine,” Jenna’s dad said, nodding as he sat at the other end of the bench.
“Hi, David,” her mother replied with a small smile. “How was your drive?”
“Fine, thanks. Yours?” he asked.
“Great. Such a beautiful day,” her mother replied.
Jenna exchanged a look with her siblings as their parents made small talk and unwrapped various sandwiches from the basket. It was weird, having them sit so far apart—having them talk to each other like strangers. But at least they were here, together. Things were definitely going to be different when Jenna got home after this summer, but maybe they wouldn’t be as horrible as she had thought. She had imagined that her parents would never want to see each other again, that they would never be sitting all at the same table together like they were just then.
So her family wasn’t perfect, but they never had been (especially not with Adam as part of it). Now they were just going to be a different kind of imperfect. Maybe, just maybe, Jenna could get used to it.
“I know what Jenna wants,” her father said, opening the waxed paper around a white-bread sandwich. “A
little peanut butter and banana?”
“Ugh!” her sister groaned as Jenna happily took the sandwich. “You’re such a freak!”
Jenna took a huge bite and smiled a peanut-buttery smile. “I know,” she said, her mouth full. “I like me that way.”
And she meant it. However imperfect her family was, however imperfect she was, Jenna liked her life. From this moment on, she was going to start remembering that.
chapter THIRTEEN
Jenna sat in the darkroom that afternoon, determined to get at least one picture right before her two-week elective was over. Her parents had left half an hour earlier, after showering their kids with food and new clothes. Jenna had watched them talking as they’d walked to their cars, and even saw them hug good-bye. She knew enough to not hope that her parents were getting back together, but at least it seemed like their divorce wasn’t going to be nasty and full of fights, like some of the divorces her friends had lived through.
“How’s it going over there, Jenna?” Faith asked. She was working on her own pictures in the corner and now she looked up and checked her digital watch. “There’s only about a half hour more of free time before dinner.”
“I think it’s going okay,” Jenna replied, though she was at a total loss.
“Well, if you need any help . . .”
“I’ll ask,” Jenna assured her. But she didn’t want to ask for help. She wanted to prove she could do it on her own.
Just then the door opened and in stepped Adam
from the curtained area outside the darkroom. He glanced in Jenna’s direction and closed the door quietly. Great. Had he come to mock her photography skills again?
“Hi, Faith,” he said.
“Hey there, Adam,” she said, not even looking up from her work. Apparently she was getting used to having him around all the time.
Adam weaved his way around the tables and took the stool next to Jenna’s. “Hey,” he said, looking at her supplies. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” she lied. In the twenty minutes she had been in the darkroom she hadn’t printed one good picture.
“So, was Mom pretty mad about the prank last night?” Adam asked.
Jenna glanced at Faith, but then realized it didn’t matter if they talked about it here. Everyone in camp knew she was responsible for the Great Animal Escape, which was what Pete had called it that afternoon.
“Not really,” Jenna said. “She was cool about it.”
“That’s good,” Adam said. He started lining up her film strips on the table, organizing them for her. “I mean, she probably would have been really mad if she knew what else you had done this summer.”
Jenna froze. “What do you mean, what else I’ve done?”
“Oh, you know, the sugar in the salt shakers . . . that picture you took of Stephanie,” Adam said. “You know, that was a nice shot. Maybe you should just stick to Polaroid. It’s more your speed.”
Jenna was too stunned to even whack him on the shoulder for the insult. When had Adam figured out that she was behind the other pranks? “What do you . . .”
Jenna stopped when Adam gave her an “oh, please” look. He was her twin, after all. He knew her better than anyone. There was no point in trying to act all innocent around him.
“All right. How did you know?” Jenna asked, her shoulders slumping.
“Well, first of all, the salt shaker thing was just like the trick you played on Uncle Earl last Thanksgiving,” Adam pointed out, shifting on his stool. “You remember? When you put apple cider in the gravy boat?”
Jenna laughed. “Right! And he didn’t even notice.”
“Said it was the best gravy he’d ever had,” Adam said with a smile.
“Aunt Jo did not like that,” Jenna said. “Okay, so maybe the sugar prank wasn’t the most original idea I’ve ever had. But what about the Stephanie thing?”
“Well, you and I are the only ones who know about that gross mask thing of hers except for the girls in her bunk,” Adam said with a shrug. “I knew it wasn’t me, and all the girls in her bunk worship her . . . so I figured somebody had to talk them into it. Who else would do it but you?”
Jenna let out a little whistle. “Wow. You’re good. Maybe you should become a detective or something.”
Adam grinned wickedly. “Why do you think I’m so interested in photography?” he said. “P.I.’s make tons of money, you know.”
Jenna was struck for the millionth time by how much her brother’s thoughts were like her own. Back when she had decided to take photography one of the reasons was so that she could learn to take spy pictures of her family. Clearly Adam was thinking along the same lines.
“So if you knew all along . . . why didn’t you tell on me?” Jenna asked.
“I don’t know,” Adam said, toying with a lever on the exposure machine. “I guess I just figured . . . you know . . . we already had enough stuff going on. I didn’t want you to get in trouble on top of everything else.”
Jenna’s heart squeezed, and for the first time since she was about five years old, she felt like hugging her brother. She resisted the urge, though. It was just too weird. He probably would think that she was taping a “Kick Me” sign to his back.
“Is . . . is that why you’ve been hanging out in here so much?” Jenna asked him, looking down. “Because you’re upset about Mom and Dad?”
Adam shrugged again. “I dunno. Maybe. It’s just weird hanging out with the guys and trying to have fun when all these bad things are going through my mind. It’s like one second I’m laughing and then all of a sudden I remember that Dad moved out and I don’t really think anything’s funny after that. Would you believe that Eric and those guys actually started calling me Adam-Moody? Like it’s all one name. Adamoody.”
Jenna laughed at the joke, then covered her mouth. “I totally know how you feel,” she said. “It’s like one second I’m happy and the next second I’m yelling at people. No one’s given me a nickname yet, though.”
“Huh,” Adam said, his eyes wide. “You really do know how I feel.”
“Yeah. I do,” Jenna said. She felt about a million percent better to know that her brother was going through the same emotions she was.
“Wow,” Adam said, looking as surprised and relieved as Jenna felt. “We should have talked about this ages ago.”
“Tell me about it,” Jenna replied.
They sat there smiling at each other for a long moment. Huh. Maybe Adam’s not so bad after all, Jenna thought. And somehow she knew he was thinking the same thing about her.
“So, you want me to show you how to do this or what?” Adam asked, sliding closer to her.
Normally Jenna would have gotten all defensive if Adam, or anyone else, had forced his help on her, but for the first time all summer, she felt calm. She felt like she could deal with the fact that she wasn’t good at photography. She felt like she could, and should, ask for help.
“Yes, I do,” Jenna said. “I really, really do.”
The next day, Jenna trailed behind the rest of her bunk on the way to free swim. Ever since the Great Animal Escape all her friends had been sort of cold to her. They weren’t ignoring her completely, but they weren’t being all that friendly, either. The very idea of sitting by the lake on the outskirts of their crowd made her cringe. All she could do was hope that they wouldn’t be mad at her forever.
“Hey, Jenna! Wait up!” Marissa called out, jogging to catch up with her. As always, the CIT was perfectly coordinated with a red bathing suit, red flip-flops, and a red-and-white striped plastic bag full of magazines and suntan lotion.
“Hi,” Jenna said, surprised that Marissa wanted to walk with her. The CITs, especially Marissa and Stephanie, had been looking forward to the social more than anyone else in camp. Jenna had figured they would be madder at her than the rest of the campers.
“So, how’s it going?” Marissa asked, her ponytail swinging back and forth as they walked.
“Okay,” Jenna said, pulling her
towel more tightly around her body. “Except everyone hates me.”
“Everyone does not hate you,” Marissa said, slinging her arm over Jenna’s shoulders. “It was just the camp social. Half the people there didn’t want to be there, anyway.”
“Really?” Jenna said.
“Please! You remember what it was like when you first started here,” Marissa said. “All the younger kids don’t know what to do at dances, whether they’re square or otherwise. And, you didn’t hear this from me, but all the CITs want to do is sneak off and smooch somewhere,” she added, lowering her voice.
“Oh, ick!” Jenna said, sticking out her tongue with a laugh.
“All I’m saying is, people will get over it,” Marissa said. “You’ll see.”
Just then, Marissa tripped forward a few steps and Jenna caught her arm.
“Stupid flip-flops,” Marissa muttered. One of her red sandals was lying on the path a foot back, having slipped off. “Hang on a sec, will you? I want to put on my tennis shoes.”
“Sure,” Jenna said, following Marissa over to a rock so she could sit. Jenna didn’t see what the big deal was. The lake was about fifty yards away, and Marissa could definitely make it without changing her shoes. But Jenna wasn’t in any hurry to get to free swim, anyway, so she waited, watching the other campers laughing and chatting as they streamed by.
Marissa pulled out a pair of white tennis shoes and shoved her feet into them, then placed the flip-flops back into her bag. She retied the knots in her laces and finally stood up.
“Okay, all ready,” Marissa said, dusting herself off. They started toward the lake again, side by side. “So . . . you think you want to try diving again today?”
“I don’t know,” Jenna said, feeling that familiar pit of fear start to form in her stomach. “Maybe I could give it a try . . .”
Her words trailed off as she and Marissa came to the end of the pathway and stepped onto the sand. There, directly in front of her on the beginners’ diving pier, was her entire bunk, along with Tyler, Stephanie, and Adam. They were all lined up on either side of the platform like they were forming a runway.
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