Natalie and Brynn traded looks. Natalie murmured, “Maybe they want us to camp in the rain. So we’ll start melting and bond better.”
Brynn pondered that, scratching her cheek as she studied their counselor. In the dim light, Belle’s eyes were invisible in their dark sockets.
“I’m kind of freaked that we’ll be out in the wilderness with her,” Brynn said. “She’s so pale.”
“Like a vampire,” Natalie concurred, turning to gaze at Belle as well. “Isn’t this the way those movies always start? The two friends noticing the problem and everyone else is all tra-la-la, until it’s too late?”
“Everyone else is not all tra-la-la,” Brynn pointed out. “We’re all pretty tense-tense-tense.”
“Well, being told that if we don’t get all tra-la-la, we’ll be sent home . . .” Natalie leaned her head against her seat back and stared up at the ceiling. Her neck cricked. “Not the most relaxing way to live.”
They left the bridge. The pines grew thicker together, shrouding the bus in deeper shadow. Brynn put on her sweatshirt. A few minutes later, Bob downshifted, causing the gears to grind for a second or two, which made Brynn wince. Belle spoke to him a moment, then got to her feet and faced the girls.
“We’re almost there,” she said. “Start gathering up your stuff.”
chapter SIX
About five minutes later, the bus trundled down a gravel incline, rolling to a stop a few feet above a cleared area bookended by pine trees and large granite boulders. The boulders were covered with graffiti, attesting to the fact that this was a popular place to camp—and not some completely cutoff no-man’s-land. There were some bushes beside the boulders and a drooping pine tree that looked as if lightning had cracked it.
Directly in front of the campsite, there was a concrete fire ring as wide acros as Chelsea tall. There were two picnic tables, one on side of the fire ring. Beyond it, the ground ed downward toward Shadow Lake. The trees were thinner, revealing darkened silver slices of the lake. The sun peered through the branches and sparkled on the water. Some ducks took flight, quacking as they rose into the air.
“Check it out, Nat,” Tori said, gesturing with her head toward the lake as she helped unroll one of the tarps that would serve as a floor mat for the tents. “Supernature-rama.”
“Supernatural-rama,” Natalie replied, placing two sleeping bags beside a growing pile of camping supplies. She daintily wiped her hands on her turquoise shorts. “This place reminds me of the location of about a dozen low-budget horror movies my dad was in when he was starting out as an actor.”
“Michael’s dad, too,” Tori said as she smoothed the tarp.
Chelsea knew Tori was dating the actor Cameron Stevenson’s son. Chelsea couldn’t imagine the kind of life Tori led. To be so rich and pretty, and hanging out with superstars and going to movie premieres. Natalie, whose dad was another superstar actor, seemed to have a charmed life as well. She had a totally glamorous mom who also spent half her time traveling all over the world, buying art. Natalie went to a private school.
Just like Chelsea used to.
Don’t be such a downer, she told herself. Maybe the girls in the bunk are their typical unfriendly selves, but Spence might like you. That’s pretty cool.
Except that she knew that Spence had started liking Priya last summer, and Chelsea figured they had been e-mailing each other ever since. Maybe even visiting each other. So Spence was supposed to be off-limits. She knew the rules of girls, even if she had never played the game before.
No boy has ever talked to me and hung around me like Spence, she thought. And besides, Priya totally does not deserve him. She’s mean to me. They all are.
She had really, really wanted camp to be so much fun that she could just forget about what was going on in her world back home. But it wasn’t turning out that way, and all the pressure and the worry had already popped out at the worst possible moments. Last night she’d done stuff that had gotten the whole bunk in trouble. She had pushed Gaby. She just hadn’t admitted it. She felt awful . . . and that just added to her pressure.
As she tried to decide where on the crowded tables to set the box she was holding, she brushed past Alex, who slid a glance toward Alyssa. None of these girls had a clue what she was going through. And what really hurt was that they should have a clue. They knew her dad was really sick. They fussed over Alex and her diabetes all the time, but no one had even asked Chelsea how her father was doing.
A year and a half ago they had given her a journal they made to let her know they cared . . . and then they went back to being their mean, snotty, excluding selves, posting to one another on the blog, and inviting one another to things that she never got invited to . . .
“I’m so jazzed. When I get home, Michael and I are going to this benefit dinner at this new restaurant his dad’s opening. I got such an awesome dress for it,” Tori told Natalie.
“When I come to L.A. during winter break, we’ll have to go there.” Natalie waggled her brows. “So I’ll need an awesome dress, too.”
Chelsea walked stiffly past them. Her most recent shopping expedition had been for socks and underwear for camp. Nothing else new, not even a new pair of sneakers.
As she bent over to set down the box, she tripped on a flipped-over end of the tarp and lost her grip. The box crashed to the ground.
“Chelsea, please be careful,” Belle snapped as she dodged around Chelsea with two boxes in her arms.
Tears stung Chelsea’s eyes. She choked out, “Sorry,” but in such a low voice even she couldn’t hear herself.
She has the power to send you home.
Chelsea took a deep breath, licked her lips, and raised her chin. “I’m sorry,” she repeated in a louder voice.
“Okay, thank you.”
Belle bent down and lowered her burden to the ground with what seemed like exaggerated care, as if she was demonstrating to Chelsea how to do it. As if Chelsea was a moron.
Chelsea turned back around to get another load. She caught sight of Jenna rolling her eyes at Alex. The two girls sat cross-legged on the ground. They were supposed to be reading the directions for erecting the tents. But it was obvious to Chelsea that they were just goofing off—and making fun of her.
She balled her fists, but she didn’t say anything, just went straight back to the bus to get another load.
Once the bus was emptied, Bob gave them a wave.
“You girls be on your guard out here tonight. You don’t want the boogeyman to get you.” He laughed to himself, and backed out until he could turn around. Then he disappeared down the road.
Candace looked longingly after him. Chelsea wanted to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be all right. But she didn’t know how to say that without fibbing a little—because sometimes things didn’t turn out all right.
“You can be in my tent tonight,” Chelsea told her.
“Oh.” Candace flushed and cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she said, unenthusiastically, and Chelsea understood: Candace didn’t want to be in her tent.
“It’ll be Tori, Nat, and Alyssa, together again,” Natalie said as she threaded the poles of one of the tents through the tabs on the side.
“We’re going to draw lots for the sleeping arrangements,” Belle announced. “In fact, let’s do that right now. I’ve put all your names on pieces of paper.” She held up strips of paper from her notebook and dumped them into Chelsea’s emptied condiment box.
Chelsea wound up with Jenna, Tori, and Candace. Natalie, Alex, and Gaby were in another tent. Brynn was with Priya, Valerie, and Alyssa. At least Chelsea wasn’t with Gaby. She had thought they were going to be best friends this summer, but it sure wasn’t turning out that way. She wondered how Tori, Alyssa, and Natalie felt about being separated. They were usually a tight threesome. And she wondered how unhappy Jenna, Tori, and Candace were that they had to share a tent with her.
After they organized their tents, Belle told them they could go swimming in the
lake. Eager to get some relief from the heat, the girls raced to put on their suits.
As she changed into last year’s black and white tankini, something about her camping gear bothered Chelsea, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. She glanced suspiciously at the others, wondering if someone had done something to her stuff.
“Stay in my range,” Belle ordered them. “And swim with a buddy. Absolutely no swimming off alone.”
The group reached the water’s edge, which was sandy in some places and covered with pebbles in others. Dropping their towels along the shoreline, Jenna, Brynn, and Alex darted right in.
“It’s freezing!” Jenna whooped.
Natalie and Tori sat on the shore, while Brynn and Alex started up a water fight. The bunk was pairing up in twos and threes, and Chelsea quickly calculated that no one was waiting up for her.
So she turned around with the thought of heading back to the campsite. But she realized that if she went back alone, Belle would be all over her, asking her why she wasn’t hanging out with the bunk. She wouldn’t be showing proper 5A team spirit.
Frustrated and uncertain, she turned back around and looked at the girls, most of whom were waist deep in the water, laughing and dodging vigorous splashes. Even Candace, who was so shy, was bobbing up to her shoulders and laughing.
No one called to her, urging her to join in the fun.
Probably because they’re glad to be rid of me, Chelsea thought.
She hovered at the shoreline, acting as if she had decided not to go in, but still happy to be there. She bent and picked up a rock shaped a little like an arrowhead, then dropped it back down.
The girls kept on with their water fight. Chelsea’s mind wandered to thoughts of her parents. She missed them. She wanted to know how things were going in D.C. She couldn’t wait until Sunday, when she could e-mail her mom and dad from Dr. Steve’s office.
A bird cawed. Something made ripples in the lake—probably a fish. She heard frogs and crickets.
And . . . music. There. The faintest hint of a melody made her cock her head. It was either very low, or very far away.
Then it was gone, if she had even heard it at all.
She looked up and down the shoreline to see if anyone besides 5A was there—a fisherman, maybe, or some other campers. But there was no one. She began to wonder if she had heard anything at all. Maybe she had just imagined it. It had been very faint. Maybe Belle had brought a radio.
The sun beat down, and Chelsea was sweating. She walked down to the water, unlaced her tennis shoes, and took an experimental step in. She was kind of far away from the others, but she really wasn’t in the mood to hang out with them.
She went in up to her knees, and then her waist, and she dipped her head back into the frigid water. For the first time in a long time, she let the tears flow. Weeping, she lay on her back and floated, trying to calm down by taking deep breaths.
“Chelsea!” Belle shouted.
Chelsea jerked and splashed water on her face to hide the fact that she’d been crying. Then she turned around and faced Belle. Her counselor was standing about ten feet away in a black one-piece. Her entire body from head to toe was white, except for her cheeks, which were bright red. Wow, she was really mad.
“I told you girls to stay where I could see you,” she said. “And you’re all the way over here. And you don’t have a swim buddy.”
Startled, Chelsea moved in a little circle, taking stock of her surroundings. She was stunned to realize that she had drifted so far away. In fact, the girls were little dots up the shore. She wilted. She was so busted. She hadn’t meant to do anything wrong.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it. “I got distracted.”
“Please get out now,” Belle said. “And I’ll gather the others. We’re going back to camp to start dinner.”
Chelsea swallowed hard and slogged back to shore. Belle waited with her hands on her hips, as if she didn’t quite trust Chelsea to do as she asked.
When they reached the campsite, the other girls laughed and cracked jokes as they changed back into their clothes. They seemed relaxed and happy. Chelsea got dressed in miserable silence. Belle’s anger stung her.
After everyone was clothed, Belle explained that part of their bonding experience included making dinner together. She and Clarissa would supervise building and lighting the fire, but for the rest of it, the girls were on their own. Meanwhile, Belle and Clarissa would finish working on their “adventure.”
“The 5A Challenge,” Belle finished. “A really awesome scavenger hunt!”
“Cool!” Alex cheered, and all the other girls started nodding and laughing excitedly. Chelsea tried to muster up a smile, but she couldn’t. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was go on a scavenger hunt. She just wanted to sit down and cry.
Making dinner was a brand-new nightmare. Every time Chelsea tried to help, one of the other girls would take over her chore and make it her own. She kept finding herself pushed out of the way as someone would say, “Excuse me, that’s okay, I’ve got it.” First it was helping to gather firewood, then assisting Alyssa, Belle, and Clarissa as they built the fire in the concrete fire ring.
“No, Chelsea. Not that way, Chelsea,” it seemed like the counselor and CIT were saying at every moment. And Alyssa kept saying, “That’s not the way we learned it last year.”
“Okay, fine,” Chelsea said as Alyssa rearranged her starter wood into a tighter triangle. She tried not to sound irritated, but it was hard.
Then they unpacked three hamburger grillers and Belle selected Natalie, Alex, and Valerie to cook the hamburgers while she supervised. Chelsea thought it would be way cooler to let each girl grill her own burger, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to be told that she couldn’t do it because she was too much of a loser.
Fuming in silence, Chelsea looked for something else to do. She decided to neaten up the collection of squeeze bottles of ketchup, mayonnaise, mustard, barbecue sauce, and pickle relish on one of the picnic tables, but as she got to work, she accidentally dropped the ketchup bottle on top of the tomatoes Alex was slicing.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Alex,” Chelsea said, reaching for the ketchup bottle.
“Argh! Shoo! Scat!” Alex said, and even though Chelsea could hear the teasing lilt in her voice, she started to lose it. But she didn’t let anyone see the tears welling in her eyes. They would just make fun of her. If she were anyone else, they would be all worried about hurt feelings and gather around the person and try to show her support. But they’d just roll their eyes and snicker if it was Chelsea.
Dinner was served at last. They ate off paper plates, but there were a few utensils and the hamburger grillers to clean. Belle looked around at everyone.
“Chelsea, I don’t think you’ve had a chore yet. You can do the dishes.”
Chelsea was mortified. Had a chore yet? She felt as if Belle was calling her a slacker. She must not have noticed all the times Chelsea had attempted to pitch in.
“Okay.” Chelsea bit her tongue. She got out the water they had brought up from the lake and heated it over the fire in their teakettle. Then she poured in some sanitizer.
“I’ll dry,” Clarissa offered, but Belle shook her head.
“The girls are supposed to do it all. Besides, we still have a few more scavenger hunt clues to work out.”
So no one dried. No one else, that is. By the time Chelsea was done, everyone else had arranged things in their tents and unrolled their sleeping bags. She discovered that she had been put closest to the tent flap, for everyone to step on all night as they went in and out of the tent to go to the bathroom.
The others had on their pajamas by the time Chelsea went to look for her pj’s inside her pack. She came up empty. She had brought a towel, her bathing suit, and her toothbrush. But there was no change of clothes, not even socks or underwear.
She sat back on her heels, perplexed, until she mentally retraced her actions before they had left o
n the bus. She couldn’t remember packing pj’s or extra clothes. She was so distracted, worrying about getting sent home and listening to Gaby ranting about how unfair it was that they were being forced to go on an overnight with “these people.” Chelsea knew everyone had turned her and Gaby into the bad guys of the bunk and she was trying to figure out how to change that . . .
. . . and then Belle had asked everyone to think of some songs to sing tonight at their campfire . . .
And I guess I forgot to finish packing, she thought. Great. Just great. My socks are filthy and my clothes stink.
Huffing, she closed up her pack and joined the others around the fire ring. They were roasting marshmallows in their cute pajamas. They looked like they were in some kind of fun commercial for Skittles or Coke Zero.
On the left-hand picnic table, a propane lantern hissed, and bugs fluttered against the glass. There were bugs everywhere, and Chelsea went back to her tent to retrieve her insect repellent. That, at least, she had remembered.
She unzipped the flap.
“Hey,” Alex said, glancing up at her with a startled look on her face.
Just as she realized she had gone to the wrong tent, Chelsea looked down at Alex. Alex had all her diabetes stuff out—her little needles and the finger stick thing that she used to check her blood sugar levels.
“Sorry,” Chelsea muttered. Her hands trembled; in her mind’s eye, she saw a nurse giving her father a shot of the new cancer drug. And even though it didn’t make sense, she got mad at Alex for being sick. She didn’t want anyone to be sick. She didn’t want anyone to have any problems.
Distressed, she turned around and headed back to the logs around the fire ring. She sat down in the first empty space . . . right next to Jenna, who, of course, had remembered her cotton drawstring jammie bottoms and a Camp Lakeview T-shirt. Just as Chelsea settled in her space, Jenna turned to see who was sitting next to her. When she saw that it was Chelsea, she jerked as if she had just seen a monster.
Hide and Shriek #14 Page 7