Second Time's the Charm #7

by Melissa J Morgan

  So why did things feel so strangely, awfully uncomfortable?

  She had no idea. And she was already feeling bad about their exchange, wanting to undo some of the nerves that had spiked the air. “Look, maybe I’ll come by—” she offered. Then she looked up and realized there was no point in finishing her sentence.

  Simon was already gone.

  Lunch was classic Lakeview cuisine: suspiciously rubbery grilled cheese sandwiches and watered-down bug juice. The mess hall was as cavernous as Nat remembered, though it was nice to see that, this year, banners from Color War the previous summer had joined the rest of the wall hangings. This way Nat could admire her own handiwork as she “ate”—or rather pushed her sandwich back and forth on her plate.

  “Earth to Natalie.”

  Nat looked up to find Alyssa peering at her inquisitively. “What’d that poor grilled cheese ever do to you?” she teased, gesturing toward the soggy bread. “You should eat it or toss it. Put it out of its misery one way or another.”

  Nat shrugged. “I’m not that hungry.”

  “Look, it’s not like I blame you,” Alyssa began. “I mean, this food is toxic under the best of circumstances. But I’m your BFF and I know what’s what.”

  “Meaning?”

  Alyssa poked Natalie in the ribs. “You’re annoyed because Simon didn’t, like, swoop you up in some huge movie-star embrace.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Gross. We’ve never even kissed. I mean, except on the cheek. I don’t think we’re ready for a movie-star embrace.”

  “But still,” Alyssa said, raising her eyebrows knowingly.

  Natalie sighed. “Yeah, it could have gone more smoothly,” she admitted. “No big-time smooch, but a little less tension would have been nice.”

  “So you were both a little nervous. It’s normal,” Alyssa said reassuringly. “I bet it will be fine once you have some time alone to talk.”

  “You mean some time alone to talk when I am not suddenly possessed by the spirit of a total spaz,” Nat corrected her.

  “Well, sure, you might want to work on that,” Alyssa teased. “Give me a break. You were a little shy. It happens to the best of us. Even super-sophisticated city chicks, I hear.”

  “Ha-ha,” Nat joked. Inside, though, she felt better. Alyssa always knew how to pull her out of a funk. She was so glad they were going to be spending the next two months together.

  “Listen up, everybody!” It was Andie, struggling to be heard by her campers above the din. “After lunch, we’re going back to the bunk to finish our unpacking. Then I’ll go over the chore wheel and our daily schedule. And, of course, we’ll be signing up for our first round of electives.”

  The girls whooped and hollered, eager to pick their free-choice activities for the first two weeks of camp. “Natalie, you’re going to volunteer for nature, right?” Jenna shouted from the head of the table. She winked. Natalie, who considered herself “allergic to fresh air,” had been assigned to the nature shack during the first two weeks of camp last summer. And what an initiation it had been! She had gotten lost in the woods during the group campout. The one upside to that was that she and Simon had gotten lost together—which was when they had broken down and admitted their feelings for each other. So, it was actually a pretty happy ending, she admitted to herself.

  “Hey, it worked out pretty well for me last summer,” Natalie quipped. “No complaints here.”

  “Ugh, if you’re leading the overnight, count me out,” Chelsea chimed in snidely. “I mean, you’re hardly a Girl Scout.”

  Natalie chose to ignore the nasty blonde. “Whatever, Chelse,” she said dismissively. “I’m psyched for free choice—no matter what I get.” She eyed Andie slyly. “Though I wouldn’t, you know, hate it if I got arts and crafts, and newspaper.”

  “We’ll see what I can do,” Andie replied, smiling.

  Natalie turned to Tori eagerly. “You have to sign up for newspaper,” she said. “Since you’re from L.A. you’ll be perfect to cowrite the mock ‘gossip column.’ I mean, it’s gossip, but nothing, you know, mean-spirited. Alyssa used to do it with me, but she considers it a compromise of her artistic integrity. So I, for one, am especially glad that you’re here.”

  Alyssa shrugged innocently. “Take my byline, please. This summer I’m determined to learn how to take a decent picture, anyway.”

  “Sure, maybe,” Tori said. “I love to write. I’ll mention that to Andie.” She frowned. “I’m all unpacked,” she said. “What do we do while everyone gets assigned their chores and stuff?”

  “Oooh,” Natalie said, a gleam in her eye. “I have the perfect way to pass time!”

  “Makeovers?” Jessie asked, squealing in excitement. She whirled to Lauren and Anna, who sat on either side of her. “Nat gives the best makeovers! She’s like a pro at manicures.”

  Natalie nodded proudly. “And I have the most amazing new eyeshadow kit from St—”

  “Wait, the one with khaki shadow-creams?” Tori interrupted, eager.

  “No,” Nat admitted, shaking her head. “I, um, haven’t seen that one yet.”

  “You haven’t?” Tori shrieked. “Poor, deprived child! I’ll tell my mom to mail mine up tomorrow. That way, we can all bask in the glory of the shadow-cream. Thank goodness, in the meantime I have the super-slick lip tint to tide us over.”

  “I’ve actually been wanting to try that,” Perry said.

  The other girls nodded in agreement, murmuring excitedly. Even Alyssa seemed super-enthusiastic about lip tint, which for her was somewhat unusual. Alyssa’s fashion and grooming tastes tended to run more toward the artsy side.

  There it was again—that slightly edgy sensation. But what was it all about? Was Natalie actually annoyed that Alyssa and Tori seemed to be getting along? That was ridiculous.

  Natalie knew it was immature to want her best friend to be more excited about her own makeup than she was about Tori’s. It was nice that she and Tori had the same interests, and this way, they could all pool their resources and be ten times as fabulous as each would otherwise be on her own. It’s really a good thing, she reminded herself. Don’t be a brat. I mean, it’s just makeup. Who even cares, anyway?

  “I can’t wait to try it,” she said, trying her best to sound totally perky. Unfortunately, Tori was too busy offering beauty tips around the table—even shy, timid Karen was warming to the conversation—to appreciate Natalie’s affirmation. As near as Nat could tell, just about every single camper in 4A was riveted, hanging on to Tori’s every word.

  Not that Natalie minded. Not at all.

  “How many hot dogs are you going to eat tonight at the cookout?” Alex asked. She had caught up with her friends from 4A after lunch.

  Natalie shuddered. “Zero. The hot dogs here make me want to rethink the whole vegetarian thing.”

  “Hey, not nice!” Pete chimed in from where he was lounging by the stairs to the mess hall.

  “Sorry, Pete, nothing personal,” Natalie said sheepishly.

  “Whatever,” he sniffed, pretending to be highly offended.

  “Don’t mind him,” Jenna teased. “He’s just grouchy because Stephanie didn’t come back this year.” Jenna’s older sister, Stephanie, had been a CIT the previous summer, and she and Pete had had a “thing.”

  “That’s true,” he said agreeably. “So don’t go insulting my hot dogs. My fragile ego can’t take it.”

  “Fine, so I’ll eat, like, sixty hot dogs,” Alyssa offered. The other girls cracked up. Alyssa didn’t eat meat, even under the best of circumstances.

  “Look, Pete—the power of your cooking has inspired Alyssa to abandon her principles.” Grace smiled wickedly.

  “We can’t get into this now,” Natalie said to her friends. “We have to get back to the bunk. There’s that whole free-choice thing to deal with. I mean, even if I don’t get nature, I could get stuck with sports!”

  Jenna cracked up. “That’d be awesome. You in soccer with Alex and me.”

&nb
sp; “No way,” Nat said. “You guys would kill me.”

  “Soccer, Nat?”

  Natalie looked up and almost tripped, she was so surprised. It was Simon again, smiling down at her. “You have to be kidding. No way the Natalie I know would be voluntarily signing up for sports and nature.”

  “Hey,” Nat protested, feeling bolder now that she had regained her footing. “Nature wasn’t all bad.” She smiled at him.

  “You’re right,” he conceded. “But I have a better idea for this summer. How about we both sign up for newspaper instead?”

  Nat had to forcibly restrain herself from jumping out of her skin with excitement. Simon wanted to plan their free choice together? This was big. This was, like, a whole new level for them. She somehow managed to muster up enough composure to nod. She didn’t trust herself with actual words. Simon nodded back and disappeared off with his friends.

  Dimly, in the periphery of her consciousness, Natalie could hear her friends shrieking and catcalling, hollering and making loud, smacking kissing noises. She knew she’d be teased about her little newspaper plans for at least the rest of the afternoon. At least.

  The funny thing was, she didn’t mind at all.

  chapter FOUR

  “Uuuughhhh . . . I am never, ever eating another hot dog for as long as I live,” Jenna moaned, clutching her stomach.

  “Or at least until the next cookout,” Karen quipped. Karen was making lots more jokes and comments than she had the year before, Natalie noticed. It was nice to see her coming out of her shell. She was chattering away on her way back to the bunk after dinner.

  “Maybe the trick is to eat one hot dog instead of seven,” Chelsea suggested, her voice oozing with faux-helpfulness. Jenna was smart enough to ignore her, instead sipping gingerly at a can of soda.

  “So, no icebreakers?” Natalie said, turning to Andie inquisitively. “No ‘I’m Going on a Picnic,’ trust falls, weird riddles about locked rooms and sealed windows?” It was exciting, she realized, to be among people who (mostly) knew all of her secrets—unlike last summer, she had nothing to hide. What a relief! Last year, the prospect of icebreakers—and having to lie about things like her father’s job—had terrified her. Now, everything was different. Bring on the icebreakers, she decided. I’m an open book!

  The cookout had been great—food notwithstanding—and a nice chance for the 4A-ers to see their friends in 4C and mingle with others in the division. But Natalie knew the real fun would be in bonding with her bunkmates back at home base, back at the bunk itself. And the first night was the night when after-hours giggles, storytelling, and even contraband snacks were most likely to be overlooked by Andie and Mia.

  “You read my mind, Nat,” Andie said. “Why don’t we all get comfortable?” She patted the wooden floor and settled herself Indian-style. “Mia, do you have the, um, supplies?” she asked meaningfully.

  “Sure do!” Mia chirped, diving into her cubby and emerging, moments later, with a huge bag of marshmallows, a package of chocolate chip cookies, and the biggest bag of M&M’s that Natalie had ever seen. “Dig in, guys!” she said, opening up the packages and passing them around.

  The bunkmates wasted no time in assembling themselves in a circle and obliging, tearing into the treats as though they hadn’t just come from a huge barbecue. When the cookies found Jenna, she stared at the box, peered into it, closed the cardboard flaps, and passed the box along.

  A moment later, she grabbed the box back. “What the heck. I’m already dying as it is,” she said, shrugging and shoveling a cookie into her mouth.

  “Did everyone get the M&M’s?” Andie asked.

  The girls chorused their affirmation.

  “Great,” Andie said. “Don’t eat them.”

  “Huh?” they whined in unison.

  “Yet,” Andie amended hastily. “Don’t eat them yet.” She glanced around the circle. “We’re all here, yes?” She did a quick head count. “And we all have M&M’s. Great.” She held out her hand to show the girls her own collection—a modest fist of candy. “Six,” she said. “So that means that I get to tell you six things about me.”

  Another wave of hushed conversation erupted among the bunkmates as they all deftly reassessed their candy collections. Nat realized with relief that she had stocked up on cookies to the exclusion of much of anything else. Alyssa, however, had not fared as well. Sucker. She’d be regaling her bunkmates with every anecdote she could muster from the time she’d taken her first step until the minute she stepped off the bus that afternoon.

  Andie cleared her throat. “You get the gist of the game. We thought the candy would make for a nice bribe. So, anyway, I’ll start. As you know, I’m Andie, and this is my first summer as a counselor at Lakeview. Before this summer I worked as a CIT at Camp Arrowhead, which is in upstate New York. I went there as a camper for five years before that.” She ticked off the facts in her head, nodding to herself. “Three more. Okay, well, I have a boyfriend, Brad, who is traveling in Tahoe this summer. I totally miss him”—the girls giggled at this admission—“and maybe he’ll come up for Visiting Day.” The girls squealed with delight. “Done,” Andie said with finality.

  “Hey, no fair. Two of those points were about Brad, not you,” Jenna protested.

  “Do you really want to go there, Jenna?” Andie teased, nodding her head toward Jenna’s handful of candy.

  “Point taken,” Jenna said, smiling sheepishly. “Thank you for sharing.”

  The girls went around the circle systematically occasionally sneaking bites of their stashes and thereby rendering the game slightly more manageable. Natalie learned that Chelsea’s favorite color was purple, and that she liked to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that had been grilled first, which was kind of an interesting idea and not something that would have ever occurred to Natalie. Alyssa kept every single piece of artwork she’d ever created, even notebook doodlings. “My mom is dying to clean out my closet,” she confessed. She got around her massive heap of candy by naming each and every masterpiece individually.

  Karen shocked them all by explaining that she had given away her stuffed animal collection to a homeless shelter in her hometown. “I think it was time,” she said. Natalie and the others rushed to protest, not wanting her to feel bad about her hobby.

  “You gave them all away?” Jessie asked, wide-eyed. It was, after all, a lot of stuffed animals.

  “Almost all,” Karen admitted shyly, causing them all to break out in laughter again.

  “Well, each one of these M&M’s counts for every member of my family,” Jenna announced, before popping six of them in her mouth at one time. “And, as some of you know, I have a twin brother. He’s here, too.” She gobbled two more. “My parents got divorced last summer, which was yucky at first, but now I’m sort of used to it and it’s kind of fun to have two of everything . . .” She paused thoughtfully, then chomped down on three more pieces of candy. “I rock at soccer, you’ll see,” she told the newcomers, “and I’m really modest about it.” She winked. Then she cocked her head in Andie’s direction again. “Do I really have to come up with”—she glanced down at her hand in despair—“I can’t even count how many.” She brightened. “What if they melted together and made one big hunk of chocolate?”

  Andie shook her head ruefully. “One more factoid, dearie, and we’ll move on.”

  “Um, well, unlike some of my bunkmates, I am totally not into boys,” Jenna said defiantly. “Done!” She popped the rest of the chocolate into her mouth all at once. “Yum!” Everyone laughed.

  Jessie got off easy. “Allergic to chocolate,” she explained. “But, um, I’m really into sports, too. Not soccer. I mean, it’s okay, but at home I play field hockey, and I love to Rollerblade.” Her curly, brunette ponytail bobbed up and down as she spoke.

  Lauren was born on a leap year. Perry had a golden retriever puppy that her parents had adopted when she’d gotten an A in reading. Anna was relieved to be away from her four-year-old sister for two
whole months. (“She’s cute, but the built-in babysitter thing gets old.”) Mia, like Jenna, had a twin, though hers was an identical twin, who was doing a high-school exchange program in Australia over the summer. “So she won’t be coming up for Visiting Day,” Mia said sadly. “I totally miss her.”

  Finally it was Natalie’s turn. “Well, I’m really excited to be back here for another summer,” she giggled. “I chose to come back myself—can you believe it?” She turned to Andie. “I wasn’t exactly a Girl Scout my first summer here. Anyway, that’s two things, right?” Andie nodded. “And, um, my mom is away, doing more art buying this summer in Europe, and my dad and his girlfriend are buying a new house. It’s in the Hollywood Hills, near when Brad and Jen used to live.” She loved that little detail, even though she knew that by the time her dad and Josie moved in, they’d have a whole new set of neighbors. “As some of you know, my dad is an actor. Tad Maxwell.”

  Most of the campers knew this already, so they took it in stride. And the others were managing not to have any sort of weird reactions. Nat had to marvel at how cool everyone was being. And just this time last year she was so worried to tell them the truth about her parents!

  “That’s crazy that your dad is Tad Maxwell! I love his movies! And that he’s moving in next door to Brad and Jen’s house—my mom says that Jennifer has the best stylist in L.A.!” Tori gushed. “She gets featured in every magazine, and she’s never on the fashion ‘don’ts’ list.” She stopped herself abruptly, realizing that she had cut Natalie off. “Omigosh, I am so rude. I didn’t mean to interrupt you, Natalie. I just get excited talking celebrity-stalking, you know?”

  “Totally,” Nat said. “My dad’s girlfriend and I love to have lunch at the Ivy—”

  “The Ivy!” Tori shrieked. “I totally sat next to Tom and Katie there!” She turned to Andie breathlessly. “Does that count as three things for me?”

  Andie smiled. “The game has pretty much broken down, anyway. What do you say we dispense with the formalities?”