Bookishly Ever After

by Isabel Bandeira

  “No, that’s okay.” If Marissa could deal with Cyril every day despite her broken heart, I could be Dev’s co-counselor, build fires, and sing Kumbaya. “I’ll be fine.”

  “If you change your mind, let me know.”

  “Thanks.” We were almost at the mess hall and hearing range of the rest of the group, so I picked up speed and prayed I wouldn’t step in a hole and fall face-flat in front of everyone. Last second, I stopped in front of the mess hall steps and said, “You won’t tell anyone about this, right?”

  “Never.” She propped her suitcase along the side of the building and reached over to give me a quick little onearmed hug. “Just say the word and I’ll switch. I can already tell half the kids in my cabin are going to be a pain, anyway.” She glanced up at the mess hall door and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “Don’t look now, but it looks like your co-counselor is looking for you.” She then waved and bounced up the steps. “See you inside.”

  I tried my hardest not to look at the mess hall windows or door and busied myself finding a place for my duffel and sleeping bag that wouldn’t make them disappear in the mountain of look-alike campy stuff.

  “C’mon, Phoebe, you’re the last one. Team eight is waiting for you!” Dev’s voice came clear through the screen door.

  Marissa pulled herself up off the ground and pushed her hair—and random drops of viper blood—out of her face. She had to get to the mirror. Ignoring the part of herself that wanted to curl up in a little ball and hide from the vipers, she nodded at Cyril. “I’m ready.”

  I took a deep breath and gave myself an extra second to adjust my bow bag strap on my shoulder before nodding and heading for the steps. This wasn’t the Otherland, full of goblins, or the mirror world. I didn’t need Cassie’s help. I could do this. “Be right there.”

  38

  The cabin was one of those basic wooden frame things with screen walls and rows of bunks lining the walls. A closedin area opposite the door looked just big enough for a few people to change without flashing the world. It was rustic, and not in a good way.

  I threw my bags onto the bed closest to the doorway and turned to look at my campers. Eleven girls, almost all of them with these super-pretty names that had to have been trendy when they were born. Two Bethanys, a Lilliana, a Miranda, a Giselle, and a few other names I couldn’t even remember. And they were all staring at me. Dev had kept the group of both boys and girls going with a steady stream of questions, but now that I was alone with them I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t be afraid of a bunch of eleven year olds.

  I took a deep breath and clasped my hands to hide my shakiness. This wasn’t any different than the classes I taught at Oh, Knit!, just with younger people and no yarn.

  “We have until lunch to settle in, so I’d like to start with some rules.” A few of the girls groaned and I waited for them to quiet down before I spoke again. “I’m not your mom or your teacher. It wasn’t too long ago that I was a camper, too, and I know you’re all definitely old enough to know when you’re not supposed to do something. Honestly, if you do anything stupid and get sent home, I really don’t care. It’s not like I’ll get anything on my permanent record about being a sucky camp counselor.” That made some of the girls look at me with surprise. My hands and breathing steadied and I smiled at them. “If you want to stay up all night talking, take the bunks towards the back of the cabin. I don’t care if you don’t sleep as long as you’re not too loud. The teachers drive around in the camp golf cart to check on all the cabins throughout the night, so when you hear it, make sure to shut off your flashlights and go quiet until a little while after they pass. Otherwise, we’ll all get written up.”

  “That’s…good to know.” One of the girls—Genevieve, I think—said, slowly.

  “Since I remember being a camper, I also remember playing truth-or-dare. I don’t care what your dares are, but I really suggest thinking twice before coming up with something like mooning the boy’s cabins. It’s really, really not worth it.” Memories of running over to the cabins and chickening out last minute, only to get in trouble with the teachers, anyway, came flooding back and I held back a laugh. “Trust me.” That got a few giggles and whispered comments and I pushed on while I still had momentum. “I’m taking the bunk next to the door because I don’t need any of you sneaking out in the middle of the night.” I dropped onto the bunk and looked up at them. “And that’s about it. Any questions?”

  The redhead raised her hand. “Is Dev your boyfriend?”

  I blinked at her, caught off-guard. She was like a little demonic Anne of Green Gables. Perky and pushy at the same time. “No.” After a beat, I looked around the rest of the group. “Any questions about camp?”

  “He totally checked you out when you bent over to pick up your bags.” Redhead threw herself onto a bunk and propped her chin in her hands. “I think he’s cute.”

  Bethany Number One shook her head. “Diana, you think any older guy is cute.”

  “Not true. It’s just that the guys our age are so immature.”

  I dropped my head into my hands and spoke into my palms. “Okay, just…pick your bunks and set up your sleeping bags. We need to leave for the mess hall soon.”

  “I think we broke her,” came a whisper from a far corner of the cabin.

  Lilliana actually giggled in response. “Nah, it’s totally heartbreak from unrequited love.”

  I ignored that and started to untie my sleeping bag. A tall shadow fell over me. “Wait, you’re reading Cradled on the Waves?” Bethany Number Two picked up the book on my bunk and I nodded absently.

  Her eyes grew wide. “Did you get to the part where Kaylie and Evan play together on the cliffs?”

  That got my attention. I stopped and looked straight at her, excitement at finding a fellow reader making me grin. “Ohmigosh yes. That’s my favorite part. Especially when their music starts going in time to the waves?”

  BethanyTwo clutched the book to her chest and fake swooned. “That’s my favorite, too. I want to move to Canada now.”

  I nodded enthusiastically. Finally, someone else said what I was thinking. “A little cottage on PEI?”

  She flipped to where my bookmark was sitting and seemed to be checking out how far I was in the book. “South shore, right on the cliffs.” A dimple appeared in her cheek when she smiled. “Anyone who likes Emma Sanderson is awesome.” She then gently put down my book and went back to where the other girls were taking turns checking out and complaining about the changing/sink cubby thing.

  I had the best campers ever.

  39

  In the distance, I heard splashing and screaming, but here on the dock, I was safe from overturning canoes and water wars. I turned the page in my book and paused midchapter to close my eyes and soak in the warm sunlight. Mrs. Forrester let me beg off of canoeing with the excuse that I was afraid of getting hurt and being unable to teach archery the rest of the week. While Dev and the rest of the counselors and campers were out getting soaked, I was dry, warm, and immersed in Cradled on the Waves’ world of violins and gorgeous seascapes. The earthy scent of cedar water and the smell of pine filled my lungs.

  I lay my book down and sat up. The launch was on the opposite shore of the lake and most of the canoes hadn’t been able to venture too far past the center. On this shore, the water was mirror-still, reflecting the pines that dipped over it and dotted the shore around me. This was a picture-perfect postcard spot for the Pine Barrens. I slipped off my shoes and dipped my toes into the tea-colored water, pulling them back out right away as the cold hit me with a shock. Another canoe overturned with a splash and I was so glad not to be out there.

  I eased my feet into the water and pulled my book back into my lap. In the book, Kaylie was doing the same thing as me, hanging out on a bridge, her feet dangling over the edge into a brook.

  Kaylie turned the page of Aunt Ilse’s worn copy of Emily Climbs and shivered as a little breeze kicked up around her. July in Fire Bay
was definitely a lot cooler than back home.

  Within seconds, I was there again. The barrens faded, their sandy soil replaced by the rust-colored earth of Prince Edward Island.

  She was so deep into the book and the brook and sunlight that only the softest notes of a song drifting towards her on the wind made her aware someone else had joined her on the bridge. The singer crescendoed the tiniest bit when he got to the part in Star of the County Down that described a pretty, brownhaired girl, and Kaylie’s heartbeat sped up at the familiar voice.

  I shivered along with her. A tingle of anticipation ran up my spine—it had to be Evan, and he definitely was singing about Kaylie. My toes curled in the water and I leaned forward, my lips moving as I whispered the song lyrics aloud with him.

  A sprig of purple lupine tickled her shoulder, and when she turned to take it, Evan was smiling down at her. He didn’t stop singing, and instead, crouched down next to Kaylie, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. He lowered his volume until he was practically whispering the third verse, where the man in the story gave up his roving ways for Rose McCann.

  On the word ‘heart,’ his eyes met hers, but she quickly dropped her gaze.

  My heart practically burst from possibly one of the most romantic entrances in book history and I wanted to smack Kaylie for being so oblivious to Evan’s hints.

  The spark of cold in my toes turned to warmth as he leaned closer…

  Then a splash of water hit me right in the face and destroyed the magic of the moment. I looked up with a death glare, my eyes meeting Dev’s. He maneuvered his rowboat right up to my dock. “Wake up, Phoebe,” he said, his grin as wide as the canoes on the lake behind him.

  I indignantly wiped at my face with my sleeve and started waving my book in the air to try to dry the pages. “I was awake.” I pushed a soaked strand of hair out of my face. “And now I’m wet. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be over there, making sure no one drowns?” I waved my book in the direction of the canoes and away from me. “Translation: Go away so I can go back to my book.” And forget about you, my brain added much to my dismay.

  “Just thought I’d check in. I don’t want those delicate archer arms getting hurt if you doze off and fall into the lake.” Dev dug his oars through the water to move his boat back and forth and I couldn’t help but notice the way his arm muscles bunched with the movement.

  I focused on my poor book, instead. “Oh, shut up.” Crud, the pages were definitely going to dry wrinkled. I tried holding up only the individual pages and blowing on them.

  “Nice excuse, by the way.”

  I tried to arch an eyebrow at him. “Whatever. If I got hurt, would you be able to run the ‘first ever archery module’ at this camp?” When he didn’t say anything, I folded my arms in a way that was supposed to look superior. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Jump in. I’ll row and you won’t even have to lift an über-useful finger.”

  “Pass.” Why wouldn’t he just get the hint and go away? “I’m good here with my book.”

  “You always beg out of stuff.” He squinted his eyes at me in another one of those looks that I couldn’t read, just like in the parking lot earlier. “You make me think that you like being apart from the rest of us up in your ivory, book-filled tower. Like you’re too good for everything.”

  That stung. I took a deep breath and ignored how my breath shook. “Maybe I am.” A splash across the lake made us both turn to see the tail end of an overturning canoe. “I think that’s your cue.”

  “Damnit.” He gave me one last glance and, with a frustrated sound, backed his boat away from the dock and rowed at top speed towards the canoe.

  I lay down and rolled over, burying my face in the wet pages of my book. All I wanted was to act like I wasn’t crushing on him, not to totally alienate him. I turned his words over in my mind. “Like you’re too good for everything.” Was that what he really thought of me?

  I blinked to fight off the tears that were threatening to well up in my eyes and pulled back enough to see the pages clearly. I could be snobby and distant, like Kaylie, if I had to. Dev’s laugh carried across the lake and I fought to keep from looking up. It was better this way.

  I shut my book and hurried back to the cabin. Before the girls could get back, I pulled my notebook out of its hiding place in my duffel, opening it to a fresh page. I poked my tongue out of the corner of my mouth just like Kaylie did when she was thinking through a problem and grabbed a pen. Flipping through Cradled on the Waves, I found just the right passage and got to work.

  Cradled on the Waves Pg 32

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to help pull some girl out of a rut back on Whelan Road. She was definitely from away—” at that, he looked straight at Kaylie and grinned, then turned back to Uncle Matt, “—and would have completely torn her axle out the way she was going.”

  Uncle Matt let out a big laugh that echoed through the small kitchen. “Let me guess—trying to drive over that big tree root near McIntyres’?”

  “Yup. It looks like the rut got worse after the storm last night.” Evan then turned that grin back on her, sticking out his hand, red dirt still crusted under his fingernails. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself,” he said, pointedly. “I’m Evan, nice to meet you.”

  Kaylie schooled her features into a look of disinterested politeness. “Kaylie.” One word, no need for embellishments or “pleased to meet you”s. Even though he was decent enough not to embarrass her in front of her uncle about the car thing, she hadn’t missed his emphasis on “from away.”

  “Kaylie’s my niece from Connecticut.” Uncle Matt said, giving the soup one more stir before turning off the stovetop and joining us. “She’ll be helping at the ceilidhs this summer.” Evan’s eyebrows jumped up and he looked back at Kaylie like he was seeing her in a new light. “So you’re the violinist Mr. McClellan’s been talking so much about? Looks like we might have a lot in common.”

  “Evan’s the best fiddler on the Island,” Uncle Matt told her, pride in his voice. “He’s been bringing crowds to our ceilidhs since he was around ten?” He glanced over at Evan, who confirmed the age with a nod.

  Like a fiddler had so much in common with a concert violinist. “Right. I just can’t wait to trade tips.” She opened her mouth to say something, paused, thinking it might be a little too much, then said it anyway. “I’m working on Paganini’s Concerto number five. What are you working on?” She asked in her most conversational tone. Years of cutthroat junior state orchestra tryouts and practices meant she could rock a distant but never overtly rude way of talking. Back home, it was to avoid getting torn apart by some of the other violinists. Here, it was to get back at smug farm boy fiddlers from who seemed to be always laughing at her.

  “Oh, I’m just working out some new stuff for the show, nothing as easy as that,” Evan countered with an easy smile. “I can’t wait to introduce you to some real challenging music. You’ll be playing like a true Islander in no time.”

  Kaylie narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, I’m just dying to dive into Turkey in the Straw.” She winked at Uncle Matt, then looked towards the dining room. “Excuse me, I’m going to go see if Aunt Ilse needs any help.” She swept out of the room with a little wave, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she hadn’t even heard his last comment. Podunk farm boys from podunk islands were aggravating.

  40

  I held the red plastic cup gingerly in my hands and as far away from my body as possible. Ms. Forrester had given us counselors a few hours off while the campers had to sit through a zoologist talking about bats. I didn’t know which option was worse—the dark woods and smell of the beer in my hands or the thought of petting a flying rodent.

  Someone plucked the cup out of my hand, replacing it with a different one. “It’s seltzer water,” Cassie said, coming into my line of sight as she dropped my old cup behind a fallen log. “I don’t drink, either.
The guys are cool with it,” she added, probably at the surprise that had to be all over my face. “With that stupid reveille so early tomorrow morning, I don’t know how any of them can do it, anyway.”

  I shifted my weight from side to side, my feet sinking into the soft sand. “Aren’t we going to get in trouble? We’re supposed to hang out in our cabins or on the docks…” I let my voice drift off. This place, far down a barely used trail, definitely didn’t count as one of the acceptable spots the teachers had listed for us.

  “Relax, they’re too busy with the kids. Trust me, we’ll be out of here before anyone comes to check on us.” She gestured with her cup at the trees around us. “Every group of counselors has been coming back here on the first night for years. My brother did, when he counseled two years ago.”

  I took a sip of the seltzer and tried to look relaxed. “Sorry, I’m just not really used to rule breaking. Em calls me a super holy virgin,” I confessed.

  Cassie giggled. “’Super holy virgin?’ You guys are too cute. We should hang out sometime when we get back to civilization.” She squeezed my arm and started making her way back towards the circle of flashlights near the keg. “I’ll talk to you later. I’ve gotta get back to Mike. Besides, I don’t want to be a third wheel.” She winked and tilted her chin at something over my shoulder.

  “Huh?” I turned around to find Kris right behind me, the moonlight reflecting off his hair and features making him look even more like a paranormal book hero than usual. I mentally flailed for a minute before my catalogue of bookish flirting started working on disaster control. Hold the cup to your lips. Smile a slow smile. A quick review of my outfit concluded that my jeans and hoodie weren’t too awful. Speak. “Oh, hi, Kris.”

  He smiled. At me. “I’m glad you’re here. The guys by the keg started talking about football again. Like they have nothing better to talk about. At least there’s one person in this place I can hang out with.”