Camp Forget-Me-Not

by J. K. Rock

  “I can get us some space,” Brittany volunteered. She stepped in front of Nia, whose face was so red I thought she might pass out from the heat. Brittany leaned down next to a couple of boys wrestling by the water. “Excuse me? Mini-mites? Your counselor said he has Fudgesicles.”

  The boys shouted and spun out to join the rest of their cabin, vacating a small patch of prime real estate.

  “Nia will do it,” Brooke bellowed. “She wants to pay her dues in the industry. You’re blocking her from her dreams.”

  I didn’t mind being late to the beach. No one even noticed my arrival because all eyes were on Nia as she juggled the towels still in her hands and approached various groups of sunbathers to see if they would mind relocating for Her Highness.

  “That’s more like it,” Brooke purred happily, tossing her shoes down in a way that kicked up sand on a couple of girls building a sand castle nearby. “Settle in, entourage!”

  She spun in a circle, arms out, oblivious to everything. I’m pretty sure she was imagining the sun as her personal spotlight.

  “Does that mean us?” Brittany leaned into my line of sight. “The entourage thing?”

  “In her dreams it does.” Hannah still held the extra towels she’d taken off Nia’s stack. But now she dumped them into a heap on Brooke’s shoes. “I’m going to hang out with Julian so I don’t strangle the wannabe. But, ladies, you can’t call yourself Divas if you’re running to kiss someone’s ass every ten minutes. Think about it.”

  She sauntered toward Julian, who grabbed her bag and dropped it on his towel before he tugged her toward the water. She went with him, smiling, even though she still wore her cover-up. I remember a time she would have flipped about getting her cover-up wet. I mean, I knew she’d mellowed, but if she was so reformed, why didn’t she help us put Brooke in her place once and for all? Maybe she was too busy trying to win over Julian’s friends. I noticed the Wander Inn guys pretty much accepted her now. She hung out with them more than us.

  “Britt, Kayla?” Rachel dropped down to a towel, re-braiding her dark hair with quick fingers. “Conference?”

  “Um, sure.” Brittany frowned before digging her towel out of the pile on Brooke’s shoes. Staring at the pink daisies as if they might bite her, she shook off its sand before carefully rolling it out next to Rachel. “I hope this is about the dance, though. That’s all I care about right now.”

  I laid my towel on the other side of Rachel, glad that put me farther away from the Warriors’ Warden boys, who’d just arrived. My chest squeezed with Brittany’s reminder of the event on Friday. It would have the whole camp in an uproar, planning wardrobes and romance. I wasn’t looking forward to watching Nick and Brooke twirl under the red lights for the first couples’ dance.

  “It’s not about the dance.” Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Is anyone else getting sick of Brooke treating us like dirt under her nails?”

  “Yes,” I blurted. My hand covered my mouth after the word slipped out.

  Too late.

  Brittany lifted her sunglasses, her wide eyes making her look like an anime version of herself.

  “She makes Hannah look like a sweetheart.” Brittany grabbed her sunscreen from her purple straw beach bag, and boys appeared with offers to “do her back.” Brittany flicked her wrist as if brushing them aside and they scuttled away again.

  I hesitated to take out my own sunscreen. What was it about Brittany that boys adored? I mean, she was beautiful, no doubt. But there were other girls who were super-pretty that didn’t get so much attention. My eyes sought out the Warrior guys before I could stop myself. They were playing football at the edge of the water, splashing some girls as they ran.

  Nick went out for a diving pass that landed him in the water. Still, he emerged from the depths with the football in one hand, lifting it high for all the other guys to see.

  “Nia!” Brooke’s shrill voice drowned out whatever else Rachel was about to say. “You broke the umbrella! How am I supposed to keep my tan even?”

  “Look at that,” Rachel muttered darkly. “Brooke is going to kill that poor girl.”

  We watched as Brooke accused Nia of carrying the umbrella wrong and breaking the mechanism that lifted it. Nia had started out so eager to please Brooke, but it was clear now that she wasn’t as thrilled anymore. The ribbon in Nia’s braid had come untied and fell lopsided on her shoulder. Her cheeks were still bright red, and her forehead was sweaty as she watched Brooke lose her mind over the umbrella.

  “Do you have any idea how unforgiving the camera can be?” she whined, stomping around the sand to pluck another towel from the heap. “Of course you don’t because you’ve never been in front of it. But I’m telling you, it sees every imperfection.” She tossed her purple-tipped hair. “Not that I have any.”

  Out in the water, the Warrior guys played on, oblivious to Brooke’s tantrum. I wished Nick could glimpse this version of the YouTube goddess, but she’d been sneaky—and lucky—in hiding her ugly side from him.

  “I should have remembered. You’ve told me that before,” Nia mumbled.

  “Why is she mumbling?” I wondered aloud. “Why doesn’t she speak up?”

  Even as I said it, I realized that I was a total hypocrite. How many times had I stood in Nia’s shoes when Hannah had been the reigning queen of the Divas’ Den?

  Then it hit me. Nia was the old me.

  Or was I still like that? Sitting quietly on my towel and not intervening? I needed to start speaking up for others, even though I still struggled to do that for myself.

  “Should we help?” I forced myself to say, secretly hoping Rachel would defend Nia despite my best intentions.

  “The world is full of bullies,” Brittany announced. “And no matter what health class videos say, it doesn’t pay to get involved.”

  I think Rachel’s expression matched mine. Jaw dropped. Mouth hanging wide. Brittany was a sweet girl, but not a deep thinker. She’d changed though, since she’d helped Alex direct a play called West Side Scary a couple of weeks ago. There was a new confidence about her that I envied.

  “So we’re supposed to just let her get steamrolled by Brooke?” Rachel asked when she’d recovered. “Look at them.”

  I lifted my head to see Nia standing next to Brooke. Nia held a beach towel in front her like she was getting ready to fold it.

  “What is she doing?”

  “She’s being a human umbrella so Brooke maintains the proper shade of tan for her video.” Rachel’s face was red now. I half-expected to see steam hiss from her ears any second.

  “This may sound mean?” Brittany lifted her glasses again. “But if you ask me, Nia needs to find her breaking point. Emily told me you can’t draw boundaries until you find them.”

  “Wait a minute.” Rachel frowned. “Is that from that girl power class thing that Emily is doing?”

  Brittany sat up, her face lighting up. “Totally. It’s so cool. Like, it sounds crazy and wacky—and some of it is because it’s, you know, Emily—but this week, we are defining our personal boundaries.” She waggled her sunscreen in front of Rachel’s nose. “Guess what I’m working on?”

  “Higher SPF?” Rachel guessed.

  “What?” I asked, curious and a little envious. I’d seen the signups for the Personal Growth and Development workshop series, but the first session had conflicted with CIT training.

  “Respecting my body.” Brittany lowered her voice. “Okay, that sounds so weird, but I picked it off a list on the chalkboard. And today, I totally told those guys to take a hike who were all like ‘we’ll put sunscreen on you, Brittany.’” She rolled her eyes. “My body is mine, and they should be so lucky to cop a feel. Am I right?”

  “So right.” I smiled, almost hearing Emily in Brittany’s speech. “I’m signing up for that next week.”

  “We need to get Nia in the workshop,” Rachel pointed out. “Because I’m not convinced this ‘wait until she finds her breaking point’ thing is going to work.”
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  “Whatever.” Brittany slid her sunscreen back into her bag. “Can we talk about the dance now? I have nothing to wear.”

  For the next half hour, I lost myself in advising my friends on outfits, one of the areas I always felt confident enough to speak up about. Mom’s years as a busy fashion editor, though lonely at times, had taught me a lot, and I’d learned a long time ago that my friends were always interested in my opinions on everything from headbands to hemlines.

  Today, I plotted wardrobes until I was confident the three of us would look as fabulous as possible. Even though I didn’t have the benefit of Emily’s Personal Growth and Development wisdom, I did know one important life rule from my mom.

  When you look your best, you feel better about yourself.

  And as I watched Nick organize a game of water volleyball, I knew I’d need every advantage on my side to get me through this dance without my heart breaking.

  “Come on, Kayla,” Cameron pleaded in my ear as we walked back to our cabins. “Go to the dance with me.”

  A few of the Warrior guys trailed us as we left the beach, Cam by my side. And I had the feeling that Eli was inviting Brittany. Jake hung around in the back of the group, talking to Rachel, but I wasn’t sure about those two. On the surface they were both so driven and athletic, but they’d always been friends more than anything.

  Nick ditched the beach early. Not that I’d been watching his every move or anything. I’d been trying hard not to stare, actually. But when Brooke noticed Nick leaving, she’d announced we all needed out of the sun, too.

  “No, Cam.” I hitched my beach bag higher on my shoulder and wished I’d gone in the water to cool off before we left. The heat was killer today. With Nick in the lake the whole time, however, I hadn’t ventured close.

  “Why not?” He grabbed my hip and dragged me closer.

  Something about that move really hit me wrong after what Brittany said. My body was mine. Who was Cam to help himself?

  “We broke up,” I reminded him, stepping out of reach. I was more determined than ever to say what I meant. I’d held back on the Brooke-Nia issue and I’d never told Hannah off in the old days. Even with Nick, I’d stumbled over my apology and had to express myself in writing. But Cameron could handle hearing what I had to say.

  “Then at least save me a dance,” he urged as we got closer to the cabins. “If I just had one dance with you—”

  “Nick?” Brooke squealed.

  I looked up in time to see Nick back away from our cabin porch, his expression serious. Frowning.

  “What are you doing here?” Brooke jogged toward him, the jiggle in her bikini top obvious even for those of us standing behind her.

  I think Cameron’s drool hit my shoulder.

  We walked closer while Brooke threw herself around Nick—arms, legs, everything. Where was Gollum and his Precious when we needed them? I tried to look away, but before I could, I noticed Nick held a folded piece of paper in his hand.

  For a second, pure terror swept through me. Was it mine?

  My heartbeat went so wild it probably registered on the Richter scale. Then I remembered. I’d written my note on purple paper and whatever Nick held was definitely white.

  “What’s this?” Brooke asked as she jumped down and focused on the paper. “A note for me?”

  If she’d been in a cartoon, we might have seen her eyeballs turn into fat hearts. Brittany made a gagging sound and Rachel thumped her on the back. In the meantime, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up on Cam’s shoes. My stomach sank. Churned.

  “Um, actually,” Nick started to say, yanking the paper out of her reach. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to—”

  “You just wanted to surprise me, right?” Brooke hugged him with one hand and then stole the note from his fingers with her other. “So romantic and it’s working. Swoon.” She glanced over her shoulder and waved the note toward us. “Nia? Are you getting this? Maybe a song about swooning?”

  My eyeballs burned as I stared at it in Brooke’s daisy-tipped blue fingernails. Was that note meant for Brooke? Was Nick so insensitive that he’d already started using “our” hiding place for letters to her?

  Or was there even the smallest chance that it was a message meant for me?

  “I’d leave you notes if you were my girl again,” Cameron whispered in my ear. “Hot ones.”

  I couldn’t work up the energy to tell Cam to go to Hell. Instead, I held my breath as Brooke unfolded the piece of paper. Would I be publicly humiliated, embarrassed, or just disappointed that he cared about Brooke and not me?

  We watched the drama as Brooke’s eyes scanned the paper.

  “Why isn’t she reading it out loud?” Cam wondered. “Doesn’t she always want to be the center of attention?”

  For a second, I remembered why I used to like Cam.

  “Oh, Nicky!” Brooke clutched the paper to her chest, plastering it to her heart. “That’s the sweetest thing to say.”

  She wrapped him in another bear hug, pinning the note between their bodies as she squeezed him tight.

  Over her shoulder, Nick’s gaze met mine, but I couldn’t read his expression. Triumph? Was this another way to win the weird battle we were locked in? Or was he sorry that the nice words he’d intended for me went to another girl?

  I tore my eyes away from his, forcing myself to think about anything but him. The dance. The stuff I wanted to teach the Mermaids. Emily’s class. Calling my mom on Sunday to see how things were going in the Hamptons.

  “Tough to respect a guy who doesn’t see what a phony she is,” Rachel pointed out behind me.

  “It’s her rack,” Brittany suggested.

  Beside her, Eli nodded his agreement.

  Cam shrugged helplessly.

  “Are you sure it’s not her talent?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  Cam snorted. “Good one, babe.”

  Late that night, I watched the skinny crescent moon out our cabin window and wondered how I’d ever get to sleep. Had Nick written something nice to me that got intercepted?

  Or was he moving on?

  I shouldn’t care, but no matter how many times I told myself that, I did. Then, just when I thought I’d finally put it out of my head and was going to fall asleep, I heard the screen door on our cabin open. Someone sneaking out. Rolling onto my side to peer out the window, I spotted bright blonde hair in the moonlight.

  Brooke was out of bed and on the prowl. And I had a good idea who she was meeting.

  Chapter Eight

  “Ho, ho, ho!” Emily exclaimed as Rachel, Brittany, and I arrived at the dance the next night. “And I’m not talking about your outfits.” She rang her jingle bell bracelet by waving madly at us. “It’s Christmas at camp!”

  “Hello? We’re elves, not hos!” Brittany tugged at her short skirt and rolled her eyes, nearly losing a false eyelash. “Big dif.”

  Emily smiled. “Got it. Happy holiday, home girls!”

  And it was. Despite my dread at seeing Nick, my spirits lifted. I gaped at the transformed mess hall as we sauntered inside, the bells we’d glued onto our wedge sandals jingling.

  I returned Hannah’s wave as she and Julian stood in the center of the room beside a large, fake fir tree smothered in sprayed-on white foam, twinkle lights, homemade ornaments, and paper chains. With their matching ski hats and goggles, they looked right at home in this winter wonderland.

  Along the walls, kids picked at the white Styrofoam packing peanuts glued together to resemble snow drifts. They pried loose handfuls and chucked them like snowballs, the area resembling a snow globe with white bits filtering through the air.

  In a corner glowed a plastic snowman, his hat twirling in time to “Jingle Bell Rock.” I tugged at the white-lined collar of the green velvet dress I’d packed ahead of time for the dance and searched out the refreshments. A cool drink would feel good, despite the air conditioning they piped in for the occasion. Luckily, a large bowl full of eggnog sat beside a gingerbr
ead house on a red cloth-covered table nearby.

  “Ooo, let’s get our picture taken. Come on.” Brittany yanked my hand, and I grabbed hold of my slipping Santa hat as I followed her to a large, wooden sleigh that looked too old to be anything but the real deal.

  “Cool.” Rachel applied peppermint-scented lip gloss and handed it to me. “The party looks awesome.”

  “How long before Miss Thang will be done with her photo shoot?” Brittany nudged me, and I watched as Brooke, decked out in a super-short white nightie with a matching bow and ballerina shoes, kneeled on the sleigh seat and blew kisses into the camera.

  “When the camera breaks,” Hannah spoke behind us, joining our group. She pushed up her goggles and squinted at Brooke’s struggling sidekick. “Or Nia does.”

  Brittany and Rachel surprised me by laughing along with Hannah instead of ignoring her. Meanwhile, Nia scurried around Brooke, dressed in some kind of mouse outfit that could have belonged in a Nutcracker production. She smoothed back Brooke’s hair, coughing through the cloud of hairspray even as she applied it.

  “We have got to rescue that girl,” Hannah murmured over the sound of an old-school Bing Crosby song.

  Rachel’s reindeer headband dipped in agreement.

  “When I give the word, it’s Operation Nia time.” Hannah pinned us with one of her authoritative looks. “Got it?”

  And just like that, we were the old Divas, all of us nodding along to another Hannah command. Only this time it was for good, not evil. Better yet, I was fully accepted. In the group. Not on the outside. Not even close. For the first time since coming to camp this year, it felt like home, but better.

  “So what’s the word?” Brittany twirled the tinsel extension she’d clipped in her hair.

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “How about ‘rescue’?”

  Brittany sighed. “I like ‘Twizzlers’ but whatev.” She cocked her head to the side as the opening beat of another tune began. “Ohmigod, I love this song!” She raced onto the dance floor when “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” blared. “Hurry!”