Just Like Me

by Nancy Cavanaugh

  3

  About four hours later, the bus lurched to a stop with a jerk. Campers talked and laughed, pushing and shoving each other as we gathered up our sleeping bags and pillows and bumped our suitcases down the bus steps.

  We found ourselves in front of a large, brown, flat-roofed building with a big porch, huge screened windows, and a double-wide screen door. I heard dishes clattering inside and could smell something cooking, but I couldn’t identify what it was. It made me a little worried about what was for dinner. Actually it smelled kind of like Christmas.

  “In case you’re wondering,” Avery turned and said to me, “that smell is Sarge Marge’s clove-seasoned ham.”

  Sarge Marge? Who the heck was that? And worse yet, what in the world was clove-seasoned ham?

  “She always makes it the first night,” Avery explained. “It’s her worst meal, but after we eat that, all her other food doesn’t taste so bad. I think it’s some sort of camp-cook psychological strategy.”

  Becca took a deep breath. “Nothin’ like the smell of Sarge Marge’s air-freshener-flavored ham every year when you get off that bus,” she said. “You gotta love it!”

  A bunch of counselors wearing jean shorts, Camp Little Big Woods T-shirts, and welcoming smiles told everyone to dump their stuff on the big grassy spot under a tree next to the tetherball court.

  “Goooooood afternoon, campers!” a tall, skinny guy with a bullhorn yelled. “I’m Donnie Domino, your DJ for the week.”

  He did sound like a DJ, but he wore one of those dorky T-shirts that was supposed to look like a tuxedo.

  “Hi, Donnie!” yelled the returning campers, who obviously were happy to see him and glad to be back at camp.

  Avery grabbed my arm and said, “Julia, you’re going to love DDDJ. He’s so hilarious. Isn’t he, Becca?”

  Becca didn’t answer, but high-fived Avery instead.

  “We’ve got a fantastic forecast of fun for the next seven days!” Donnie said in his deep, buttery-smooth broadcaster’s voice. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes!” everyone screamed.

  Everyone, that is, except me.

  I slapped my arm and squashed a mosquito just before it bit me.

  “Find your names on the pegboard and head up the hill to your cabins, so we can get this party started.”

  He put down his bullhorn and gave a thumbs-up sign toward the mess hall porch. That’s when I noticed the only other male for miles around besides DDDJ. He looked about college age, but he didn’t look like he spent much time studying because he was super tan and full of muscles.

  “That’s Donnie’s son,” Avery explained as she saw me staring. “We call him DD Jr., and he gets cuter every year.”

  Before I could even get myself to stop staring, DD Jr. flipped a switch, and “Celebrate” by Kool & the Gang blasted from the two huge speakers attached to the corners of the mess hall.

  Lots of campers squealed and then sang and danced around.

  “C’mon, Julia!” Becca yelled, waving her arms in the air. “Cel-a-brate good times, c’mon!” she sang.

  Avery shook her hips back and forth and pushed her glasses up on her nose. Then she grabbed my hands, trying to get me to dance.

  I moved around a little even though I didn’t really know what we were celebrating.

  Eventually campers danced their way up to the pegboard to find their cabin assignments. As we squeezed ourselves toward the long lists of names, Avery linked arms with Becca and me. She squinted through her bifocals to find our names.

  “We’re in White Oak!” she said.

  “SWEET!” Becca yelled.

  I hoped that meant White Oak was a good cabin, but I’m pretty sure Becca would’ve said “sweet” no matter what cabin we were in.

  “Let’s head up the hill, my Chinese sisters,” Avery said, turning around and singing, “And cel-a-brate good times, c’mon!”

  I saw two girls behind Avery smirk and roll their eyes when Avery called us her Chinese sisters—and I don’t care what my mom says, I know the smirk wasn’t imaginary. It was real.

  And as we tromped up the hill with Kool & the Gang singing behind us, I slapped another mosquito, but this time it was too late. I saw the bite puff up, and I knew later tonight I’d be scratching that thing like crazy. I wondered what would be more annoying this week—my itchy bug bites or my Chinese sisters and the Ms. Marcia project. At least I had bug spray in my suitcase for the mosquitoes, but there was nothing in my luggage to help with the rest.

  Do people treat you differently because you’re adopted?

  Dear Ms. Marcia,

  Most of the time, I don’t even think about being adopted. But because I don’t look like my parents, everyone can tell that I am adopted. And even though my mom doesn’t always want to admit it, people do sometimes treat me differently.

  Like the time in third grade when my mom dropped me off at a classmate’s birthday party, and when my classmate’s cousin saw my mom, she asked me if I knew who my “real” mom was.

  And then there was another time when I heard a lady at the grocery store ask Mom if she had any children of her “own.” Mom didn’t know that I heard the lady, but that didn’t change the way the lady’s question made me feel.

  So now you can see why it would just be easier if I were half Italian and half Irish and not Chinese at all.

  Julia

  4

  “I still can’t believe you’re here at camp with us this year, Julia!” Avery said, unfolding her red-checkered bedsheet.

  I couldn’t believe it either.

  “You’re really going to like Camp Little Big Woods,” Avery continued. “Well, technically, I bet you’re going to love it.”

  I seriously doubted that.

  “We do tons of cool stuff,” Becca said before she ducked under Avery’s top bunk to make her own bed.

  “Yeah, there’s this big camp competition,” Avery went on, getting even more excited. “And last year Becca and I were on the same team. And we won!”

  “It was killer!” Becca yelled, coming out from under Avery’s bunk.

  She grabbed her soccer ball and slammed it so super hard against the concrete floor that it bounced up and hit the wooden slats in the ceiling, making them rattle.

  “We compete in all kinds of events like volleyball, soccer, basketball,” Becca explained, bouncing her soccer ball back and forth on her knees, her eyes full of her fierce competitive spirit. “Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

  Not really, I wanted to say, but didn’t.

  “Can you guys believe Ms. Marcia is doing an article about us?” Avery asked, changing the subject. “Well, technically, the article’s about adoption, but it’s really about us. Do you know how lucky we are?”

  I really couldn’t answer that because I didn’t feel very lucky at all.

  “We’re the luckiest!” Avery exclaimed, answering her own question. “And I can’t wait to write in my ‘Ms. Marcia Journal.’ That’s what I’m calling mine.”

  Becca had gone back to making her bed again. I don’t think she was even listening to Avery anymore. I think she and Avery spent so much time together that she’d figured out a way to just ignore her. I wished I could do the same because Avery never seemed to run out of things to say.

  “These three beds will be perfect for whispering after lights-out,” Avery continued. “Julia and I can lean over this way,” she said pointing. “And, Becca, you can hang over this way and look up at us. I can’t wait to stay up late whispering about all the stuff Ms. Marcia wants us to talk about!”

  I could wait. I could wait for that forever.

  “Oh my gosh!” Becca yelled, interrupting Avery’s explanation of who was hanging over what bed for our late-night “bonding” talks. “Look who’s headed for White Oak!”

  Avery and I turned and loo
ked out the window from the top bunks where we were smoothing out our sheets and tucking the edges under our pancake-thin mattresses.

  “Is that Vanessa and Meredith?” Avery asked. She pressed her nose against the screen. “That’s definitely Vanessa and Meredith,” Avery continued, answering her own question.

  “Who are Vanessa and Meredith?” I asked, jumping down from my bunk, so I could get my brand-new green-and-white polka-dotted sleeping bag and finish making my bed.

  “Does the word ‘archenemy’ mean anything to you?” Becca asked.

  I didn’t have any time to answer because the screen door of the cabin flew open and in walked two tall, skinny girls in tight biking shorts and stretchy tank tops. Their hair was long and perfectly straightened and held back with headbands. Except for the sleeping bags, pillows, and suitcases they were holding, they looked like they might have just stepped off the cover of some teen fitness magazine.

  The taller one held a volleyball under her arm and said, “Look, Meredith, it’s the royal rowboat champs!”

  “Technically, it was a rowboat relay race,” Avery said. “But it’s nice to see you too, Vanessa.”

  “And who’s this?” Vanessa asked, nodding toward me. “Your long-lost cousin from China? Does she know how to row a boat as fast as you two?”

  “This is Julia,” Avery said, jumping down from her bunk and putting her arm around me as if I needed to be protected. “And she’s not our cousin; she’s our Chinese sister.”

  “Yeah, right,” Vanessa said. “Whatever.”

  Vanessa looked around the cabin and then pointed to the bed in the corner.

  “I’ll take top. You take bottom.”

  “Good call,” Meredith said.

  “What bunk should I take?”

  We turned to see a girl standing in the doorway, still holding the screen door open. We all stared at her, but no one said anything.

  “I’m Gina,” she said, walking in and letting the screen door bang shut behind her. “Vanessa’s cousin.”

  “Everyone doesn’t need to know that,” Vanessa said, turning her back on Gina as she dumped her stuff on her bunk.

  Gina wore baggy shorts and an oversized T-shirt, and her wild, curly hair sprang out of her ponytail in all directions so that her curls fell around the edges of her round face. She didn’t look like she’d just stepped off the cover of a fitness magazine. Instead, she looked like one of those photos you see in a magazine with a big X over it showing an obvious fashion don’t.

  “The bunk under me is open,” I said, pointing underneath my half-made bed to the only spot left.

  “Thanks,” Gina said and walked toward the bed. But somehow in the few steps she had to take to get there, she tripped and went flying. She almost looked like Superman, before landing flat on her stomach on the bed. Her curly hair bounced like springs and her stuff fell, scattering all over the floor.

  “Oh my gosh!” Avery said, rushing over. “Are you okay?”

  “Get used to it,” Vanessa said without even turning around. “She’s a real klutz.”

  Gina rolled over onto her back on her bed.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just like to make a grand entrance.”

  I couldn’t tell if Gina had tripped on purpose or if it was an accident.

  “You should be more careful,” Avery said. “You could’ve hit your head.”

  “Maybe that would help,” Vanessa said.

  And Meredith laughed.

  “Julia,” Becca said, walking toward me and getting close, as if she was going to tell me a secret. But she didn’t use a secret-telling voice. Instead, she made sure to talk loud enough so everyone in the cabin could hear. “Vanessa and Meredith are still in a bad mood because Avery and I beat them last year. Twice!”

  Vanessa whipped around and said, “You better watch it, China girl!”

  “Or what?” Becca taunted. “You’ll row really, really slow and lose another rowboat relay race this year?”

  “Becca,” Avery said, getting in between them. “Don’t fight with her. We don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “Oh no,” Vanessa mocked. “Ms. Goody Two-Shoes doesn’t want to get in trouble on the very first day of camp.”

  Not able to listen to Avery’s warning, Becca couldn’t help herself. She turned to me and continued to explain. “Besides Avery and I beating them by a mile in the rowboat relay race, our team also beat their team in the camp competition championship.”

  “I told you to watch it!” Vanessa hissed.

  “And when you’re as competitive as they are—” Becca said, but then she stopped as the screen door opened just wide enough for Tori, our counselor, to pop her head inside.

  “How’re my favorite campers?”

  We all stared at her. We had met Tori at the bottom of the hill on our way up to the cabin, and she was as smiley and happy as a kindergarten teacher. I could already tell that her cheerful personality was not going to be a good match for this group of girls.

  When Tori realized none of us were going to say anything, she said, “Cabin meeting in ten minutes, so finish unpacking and then get your swimsuits on ’cause we’re headed down to the lake for the swim test.”

  And then the screen door clacked shut behind her.

  “Boy, if happiness were a disease, that girl would need to be hospitalized,” Vanessa sneered.

  “Yeah, well, if—” Becca began.

  “Don’t, Becca,” Avery warned. “Just don’t!”

  “Yeah, you should listen to Ms. Goody Two-Shoes,” Vanessa said. “That is, if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Wait,” Gina said, interrupting the latest argument. “We have to take a swim test?”

  “Yeah,” Vanessa said. “Better get your water wings ready.”

  “Are you telling me she can’t swim?” Meredith asked.

  “Take a guess,” Vanessa answered, and she and Meredith laughed.

  I had been at camp for less than an hour, and I was already convinced that DDDJ’s song choice of “Celebrate” couldn’t be more wrong and that my itchy mosquito bites were going to be the least of my worries.

  Dear Ms. Marcia,

  Are you sure you didn’t handpick the girls in this cabin so I’d have to become better friends with Avery and Becca just to survive? The two supermodel wonder jocks are not the friendliest girls I’ve ever met. And I’m not too sure what’s up with that Gina girl either. Very sneaky, Ms. Marcia.

  Julia

  5

  Tori came bouncing back into the cabin a few minutes later.

  “Be the Missing Peace!” she said, sounding more like a cheer captain than a camp counselor.

  Instead of her Camp Little Big Woods T-shirt, she now wore a T-shirt that had a picture of a puzzle piece on it. Inside the puzzle piece, bold, chunky, colorful letters spelled out “Be the Missing Peace!”

  “This is our camp theme this year,” she explained, stretching out her T-shirt to be sure we all could read it.

  Then she sat down on the edge of Becca’s bunk.

  We all sat on our own bunks in our swimsuits, slathered in so much bug spray and sunscreen that I was almost woozy from the smell of it.

  We all stared at Tori like she was missing more than a few pieces.

  Avery broke the silence with, “I think it’s interesting to choose a homophone for a camp theme.”

  “I think it’s interesting that you’re talking about homophones when this isn’t language arts class,” Vanessa said sarcastically.

  Meredith smirked, and Becca pressed her lips together like she wanted to break Vanessa into a million pieces.

  Tori looked a little worried that at this very first all-important cabin meeting, the White Oak campers were not growing together like the peaceful, happy white oak trees right outside the cabin window. I wond
ered if instead of explaining the camp theme of “Be the Missing Peace” to all of us, she wished she was actually missing this entire session of camp. Or maybe she just wished all of us were missing it.

  “Why don’t we read this year’s camp verse, II Corinthians 13:11?”

  I guess Tori’s strategy was, if all else fails, read something from the Bible, but I wasn’t sure that was going to make much difference with this group.

  “Julia, you have your Bible there. Why don’t you read the verse?”

  We all had our Bibles out, so I don’t know why she picked me. Maybe because I looked the most peaceful since I wasn’t getting ready to punch anyone at the moment.

  I pulled on the piece of blue yarn that was attached to the zipper on my Bible case, opened it, and looked for Corinthians. I found the verse and read it.

  When I finished, Tori asked, “So, how will all of you ‘be the missing peace’ while you’re here at Camp Little Big Woods?”

  She was trying so hard to make this a superspecial moment for our cabin. But no one said anything, not even Avery.

  “Well, you might all want to give it some thought,” Tori said, “because I have a feeling it may be quite a challenge for you girls.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes, and I’m pretty sure Tori saw her because faster than I could blink, that happy-kindergarten-teacher look changed to a strict-school-principal’s look.

  “Let’s head down to the lake,” she said, still sounding sugary sweet, but her voice didn’t match the look in her eyes. I had a feeling Tori was a lot tougher than any of us thought.

  Dear Ms. Marcia,

  I think Tori probably hoped we would all be perfect little puzzle pieces that fit together to make one big, happy picture of a peaceful cabin. But I don’t see how the six of us are going to fit together to make one big, happy anything.

  I know you hope to write about how Avery, Becca, and I went off to camp and discovered a connection that runs deeper than all the red threads in China, but the only way that’s going to happen is if I need Avery and Becca to protect me from mean and nasty Thing 1 and Thing 2, better known as Vanessa and Meredith of White Oak.