Reunion #21

by Melissa J Morgan

She settled into her seat and turned to Brynn, who was sitting right next to her. “We need a plan,” she announced firmly.

  “I have a plan,” Brynn said. “Don’t you worry. I am brimming with plan.”

  “An Avery plan?” Natalie asked, confused, wondering when Brynn had had a chance to come up with something like that.

  “A Reed plan,” Brynn clarified. “A sting operation. To eliminate him from Assassin. But there’s one thing—I need help. Will you do it?”

  “Be your partner in crime as you plot to take down my boyfriend?” Natalie asked. Brynn nodded, and she smiled.

  “Of course,” she replied. “Count me in.”

  Plans were good. Natalie was way into plans. And thank goodness, her friends were, too.

  So far, Brynn’s plan was working like a charm.

  Not that she was surprised, of course—she’d thought it through and it was a solid plan. Very . . . planny, just waiting to be executed by two masterminds like Natalie and herself.

  When she and Natalie first got down to the waterfront for instructional swim, she’d complained of stomach cramps. As the campers all broke off into their swim groups, she lurched forward and grabbed at her stomach, moaning dramatically.

  “What is it, Brynn?” Landon asked, hovering over her, concerned.

  “I don’t know . . . ohh.” She had stayed doubled over since that had seemed to be having its desired effect on Landon. “I think . . . maybe I accidentally ate something I shouldn’t have at lunch. Like, maybe I’m having an allergy or something.”

  “Your counselors should have a list of all of the food allergies in their tent,” Landon had pointed out, not unkindly.

  “Um, maybe it’s, like, an allergy that I didn’t even know I had.” She had groaned again for good measure.

  “Or maybe she’s lactose intolerant,” Natalie had said, stepping forward with authority. “Like, my mom can eat a little bit of goat cheese on her salad but not, you know, a whole thing of fro-yo or anything like that, and we did have that pasta with the cheese sauce for lunch so maybe it was, like, just too much for her or something.”

  Brynn had been impressed with Nat’s improv skills. Maybe her father was right—maybe she did have the acting gene buried somewhere inside there. But that was a conversation for another day, when they didn’t have plans and other important stuff in the works.

  “I’ll take her to the nurse, just to be safe,” Natalie had offered. “If she’s this uncomfortable, someone should go with her, don’t you think?” then she’d broken out her most wide-eyed, innocent expression.

  It hadn’t been completely clear from the look on his face—mainly because from her position, Brynn hadn’t been able to see Landon’s face, or really any part of him other than his bare, tanned feet—how he felt about this plan, but Natalie hadn’t given him any time to nix it. Instead, she’d grabbed Brynn by the shoulders and gently led her up and toward the path away from the waterfront.

  It had all happened too quickly for Landon to offer much protest.

  Now the two girls stood poised in the center of Reed’s tent.

  “Are you ready for this?” Brynn, who had made a miraculous recovery, grinned at Natalie.

  Natalie nodded. “I’ll take his cubby. You go under the bed?”

  “Perfect,” Brynn said.

  They got to work.

  Brynn was finding all sorts of things—a stray gym sock (gross), a music magazine, a package of double-stuff Oreos—but nothing that was remotely spoonlike.

  And then she hit the mother lode.

  “What is this?” she shrieked.

  “Brynn, you gave me a heart attack,” Natalie chided. “What did you find under there, a shrunken head?”

  “Scarier than that,” Brynn said, beckoning Nat over. “Look.” She slid out the offending object and plunked it down on the bed accusatorily.

  Natalie’s eyes grew wide. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Brynn nodded in terror. “A home. Waxing. Kit.” She shuddered.“Do you think . . . he waxes his chest?” Brynn asked. She had read that sometimes athletes did that, like wrestlers or swimmers, when they wanted to make themselves more sleek or aerodynamic.

  Of course, as far as she knew, Reed was neither a wrestler nor a swimmer. She couldn’t imagine why he would need to be sleek or aerodynamic.

  A terrible thought occurred to her. “Or—oh, no—what if he waxes . . .” she paused for effect “. . . his eyebrows?”

  Natalie and Brynn both shuddered, and then burst into hysterics. The thought was too awful to contemplate.

  “I can’t think about that,” Natalie said. “Because if I do, I will be forced to confront the fact that my boyfriend might have better manicured eyebrows than I do. And that is upsetting.”

  Brynn was laughing so hard that she wiped a tear from the edge of her eye. “Did you find anything in the cubbies?”

  Natalie cracked up all over again. “Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say anything because it was too embarrassing.”

  Brynn merely pointed to the waxing kit by way of response. How could anything be more embarrassing than that?

  “He has an emery board and a nail buffer,” Natalie said, the words coming out in a guilty rush. “And a special Italian hair gel that I happen to know you can only get online. And, uh, the worst thing of all—a nose hair trimmer!” She looked truly traumatized by this final revelation.

  “Oh, Natalie,” Brynn said, shaking her head wearily and feeling genuinely sorry for her friend. No one wanted to have to think about their guy’s nose hairs.

  “He was being kinda . . . prissy on the camping trip,” Natalie said, “and it weirded me out a little. But I decided I was being unfair, since I was being kinda prissy on the camping trip, too. But this . . .” Natalie swept her arm out, as though to indicate all of the swanky toiletries that they had uncovered. “I don’t—” she stopped abruptly as the two of them both realized that they heard a voice outside. “Is that—” Natalie asked.

  “Reed,” Brynn finished, recognizing the voice. “Outside. Now.” Instantly, she mobilized. “Okay, you stay in here and organize things as best as you can. I’ll go stall him. I’ll try and get him away from the tent. Once you hear our voices fade, you sneak out.”

  Natalie saluted her. “Got it. You’re such the little international woman of mystery.”

  Brynn winked at Natalie over her shoulder. “Don’t you forget it.”

  Outside, she found a very surprised-looking Reed about to walk into his tent.

  “There you are!” she exclaimed, all enthusiasm and energy. Meanwhile, she beamed psychic energy at him. Don’t go inside. Don’t go inside. Don’t go inside.

  It actually looked like it might be working. Score one for Sloan and all of her crazy woo-woo ideas, Brynn thought. “Omigosh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “You have?” Was it Brynn’s imagination, or did Reed actually seem kind of happy to hear that?

  Huh. Weird. Almost as weird as his home waxing kit.

  “Yeah, I, uh, wanted to talk to you, if you have, like, a minute.”

  “Definitely,” Reed said, beaming. It wasn’t her imagination: he was really into whatever he thought she wanted to talk about. Hmm. That was weird. “’Cause I really wanted to talk to you, too.”

  Now it was Brynn’s turn to be confused. “About what?”

  “About this,” he said. At her blank look, he continued, “About the fact that every time I turn around these days, you’re there. It’s like you’re following me or something.”

  Uh-oh. Reed was totally on to her! No way she’d win Assassin now.

  Reed smiled at her slyly.

  “Reed, I’m sorry,” Brynn babbled.

  “Brynn, don’t be,” Reed said. “I think it’s cool that you like me.”

  “You think it’s cool that—wait a minute. You think I like you?” Her jaw nearly hit the ground, she was so shocked.

  “Yeah. And it’s cool,” Reed repeated. “I mea
n, you’re cool.”

  “But . . . you’re with Natalie,” Brynn pointed out.

  “But you’re into me,” Reed replied, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. As if just by liking him, she had the power to undo her friend’s relationship.

  Ew. Ew. Ew.

  “But . . . you’re into Natalie,” Brynn repeated, thinking that if she just said it enough times, Reed would get on board and realize why this was all so problematic.

  Sadly, that didn’t look like it was going to be the case.

  All at once, it looked like the nose hair trimmer wasn’t the grossest thing about Reed anymore.

  “Forget it, Brynn,” Natalie said, stepping out of the tent from behind Brynn and startling her all over again. “It doesn’t matter who Reed is into, since he obviously can’t be trusted.”

  Brynn felt awful. She’d never meant to get her friend into a mess like this. Then again, she thought, at least now Natalie knows the truth about her guy. Ick. If it were me and my dude was sort of sleazy, I’d want to know. Maybe Natalie will be happy about this.

  One glance at Natalie’s face told Brynn that no way was she happy about this. To Reed, Natalie said, “I was having my doubts about you when you couldn’t stop complaining about camp. I mean, I know I can be a prima donna, but it’s not like I don’t know how to enjoy myself.” Her eyes narrowed. “I had no idea that you were so gross that you’d be into one of my friends if they showed the least little bit of interest in you.”

  Reed’s face had turned the color of a tomato, but he was speechless. Then again, what could he possibly have said, Brynn reasoned?

  “We’re breaking up, Reed,” Natalie said, her eyes flashing with anger now. “Oh, and one more thing—Brynn didn’t like you, she had you as a target for Assassin. I was confused about that myself for a little bit. But apparently Brynn has better taste than I do. So you’re going to give her your spoon and tell her who your target is.”

  “Why should I have to forfeit the game?” Reed asked, indignant.

  “Because if you don’t, we’re going to let everyone in camp in on your own personal spa that you’ve got going on in there. And somehow, I doubt that you want the rest of you tent to know how you stay so pretty.”

  Now it was Reed’s turn to let his jaw hit the ground. His face turned white, and he looked like he wanted to throw up. He closed his mouth, opened it, and then closed it again without saying anything.

  Then he ran off.

  Brynn whirled around to face Natalie. “Nat, I’m sorry about that—” she said.

  Natalie came down the stairs so that she and Brynn were side by side. “I’m not. Gosh, he turned out to be totally uncool, huh?”

  “Well, but, I can see why you liked him,” Brynn said. “I mean, you didn’t know—”

  “Two words, Brynn: Nose hairs.” Natalie pressed her lips together in a grim line, which set the girls laughing all over again.

  Brynn was glad that her friend understood the deal: Boys could be fun, but they didn’t always work out. And sometimes they did icky things like tweeze their eyebrows and crush on your friends.

  Girlfriends, though? Girlfriends were forever.

  chapter FOURTEEN

  Sloan was halfway toward her first bite of turkey “meatloaf” (she didn’t know why there were quotation marks around the word “meatloaf” on the chalkboard menu that stood outside the mess hall, and frankly, she didn’t want to know) when Dr. Steve strode in and, with one short blast of the whistle that hung around his neck, commanded the attention of the entire room.

  Sloan placed her fork back down on the table. “Saved by the bell,” she murmured under her breath to no one in particular.

  “I have an announcement to make, everyone,” he began. “Because you were all such great, active participants in the Outdoor Adventure Weekend, we’re going to have a special treat tomorrow night: movie night!”

  Sloan’s heart quickened at that news. A movie! That was almost twentieth century living, right there. Walla Walla was embracing the techno-lifestyle. Good times. She—and all of her tentmates—were sure ready for it.

  And from the sounds of the cheering from everyone else in the room, so were the rest of the campers.

  “Settle down,” Dr. Steve said, the expression on his face showing how happy he was to be the bearer of good news. “That’s not all.”

  The room went quiet again. Not all? Sloan wondered. What else could there be? Personal e-mail access for the day? GPS installed in all of the kayaks? Bluetooth pieces for them to use to call their parents?

  Real meatloaf that didn’t require identifying quotation marks? Or—dare she even dream it?—a pizza delivery from the outside world?

  Not likely.

  “The movie itself will be a surprise—but it’s a surprise that I know you’ll like!” And with that, Dr. Steve strode happily—and confidently—toward the kitchen, no doubt in search of something more palatable than “meatloaf.”

  “What do you think it’s going to be?” Brynn asked, drumming her fingers enthusiastically against the tabletop. “A blockbuster? A romantic comedy? Oh, wait—maybe it’ll be 3-D. Or, you know, like an IMAX or something.”

  “Silly, they can only screen Imax on special screens with fancy Imax equipment and stuff,” Natalie reminded her. “But who cares? Whatever it is, it’ll be a fun change from the whole boot camp thing we’ve had going on here.”

  Sloan laughed. “You’re telling me.”

  “I am not exactly sure how this is considered, um, challenging,” Priya said, glancing doubtfully at the taut rope that ran about twelve inches off the ground, secured in place by twin pegs on either side.

  “Just try it, Priya,” Tucker replied. “If you can make it from one end to the other without losing your balance, you win.”

  “What do I win?” Priya called out, stepping foot cautiously onto the rope. “What if the prize isn’t worth it?”

  The “tightrope” didn’t look scary, especially not when compared to the high course that they’d conquered weeks ago. According to Tucker, in many ways the lower ropes were actually way more challenging, since they relied on balance rather than strength. That was why he warmed them up on the higher course—once they’d been way up there, they were game for almost anything else he wanted to throw at them.

  Priya faltered and stumbled backward. Darn. Now she’d have to start again. Tucker was timing them to see who could get all the way across the fastest.

  “It’s worth it. You’ll see,” Tucker called.

  “Go, Priya! You can do it!” Jenna called from the sidelines. Jenna had scampered sideways across the thing like she had Velcro stuck to the bottom of her shoes. She was looking like the one to beat. As usual.

  “Although, actually, I have to admit—I forgot to pick up the prize!” Tucker said, realization dawning across his face. “Oops. Jackson—do you want to go get the . . . stuff?”

  Jackson looked up from where he’d been winding some ropes and stacking orange pylons. “Uh, sure,” he said easily. “Except . . . I think it’ll take more than just me. To carry everything, I mean. Do you want me to bring someone?”

  Avery jumped forward. “I’ll go!” she said eagerly. Then, taking a moment to compose herself, she smoothed her hair out of her eyes and added casually, “I mean, since I’ve already done this and stuff.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Tucker said, not looking up from his stopwatch. “Priya, keep it up—or no prize for you!”

  But Priya could hardly be concerned with something as trivial as what prize Tucker might have had in store for her or for the rest of the tent. She was waaay too interested in watching Avery and Jackson jog off together. Avery was trotting off like a dog after a chew toy. For his part, Jackson had barely slowed his stride for her. Priya wondered whether anyone else had picked up on this development.

  She glanced up and caught Joanna’s eye. The look on Joanna’s face said it all. Of course she had picked up on Avery rushing after Jackson.
How could she possibly have missed it?

  The next time Priya tripped, she slid forward off the rope, rather than backward. She was too focused to keep her mind on the course. But when Tucker ordered her back to the start of the course again, she found she didn’t really mind one bit that she was losing. Not when there were so many other exciting things afoot at camp to get involved in . . .

  The last thing that Natalie wanted was a make-your-own sundae bar for evening activity. Not that she had anything against ice cream—far from it, she was a firm believer in the healing powers of rocky road. But Tucker’s “prize” at the ropes course that afternoon had been to give all of the girls ice cream sandwiches—not just the winner, who had, of course, been Jenna—and at this point, Natalie thought she might be in danger of actually turning into a giant scoop of ice cream herself.

  She was idling by the long sundae bar table, trying to avoid getting jostled by her campmates, most of whom did not share her apathy toward ice-creamy goodness, when Ian, Reed’s counselor, wandered over to her.

  “Hey, Natalie,” he said, smiling. His hair was thick and wheat-colored, and stuck up from his head like a crew cut that was trying to grow itself out through sheer willpower, but losing the battle against the realities of science and the human body. “I have . . .” he fumbled, reaching into his back jeans pocket, fishing something out and thrusting it at her, “a letter for you. From Reed.”

  Natalie squinted at the proffered envelope, then took it from him. “Reed wrote me a letter? Why would Reed write me a letter?” It occurred to her as she asked the question that she hadn’t seen him at dinner that night, and he wasn’t at the sundae bar, either. Hmm.

  “I think he assumed you might have some questions . . . once you realized that he had gone back to L.A.,” Ian said. “This was his way of saying good-bye.”

  Natalie was stunned. She knew that Reed had been unhappy at Walla Walla—of course she knew, you couldn’t have a single conversation with Reed and not know—but she hadn’t known that it was so bad that he wouldn’t be able to last the summer. Suddenly she felt bad about giving him a hard time for being so prissy. Then she remembered how he had gotten all flirty with Brynn, and stopped feeling bad just as quickly as she’d started.