“Hey, it’s okay, Kinley. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten all worked up. It was a highly emotional situation and we don’t always know what to do in the moment. Sometimes we need a minute to step back and figure things out. So … just step back and handle things with Cal and Miller like you wish you would have in the moment.” Amy puts her arm around my shoulder and squeezes.
I’m not sure where Miller might be. The chances of him being at the bonfire are pretty slim right now, so I pop into The Lodge first to see if he’s there. When I don’t find him in the common are I take a chance on him being in his room. Reaching the top of the stairs, I hear some of the guys talking. At first I hope it’s Miller talking with Matthew, but as I make it down the hall I hear the voices coming from Cal’s room.
“What the hell, Brandon! Your brother and his idiot friends need to take it down a notch!” Cal says angrily. Is he actually mad at what the boys did? Why didn’t he just scold them when Miller caught them?
“What? You said so yourself, they were just being boys. Just like we were,” Brandon answers him. I guess Brandon was with him here at Lake Hollis when they were both kids.
“Yeah, well, things have changed. And they had the journal with them. If anyone finds that journal, it’s all over. Do you even understand that?” Cal scolds.
“You can’t blame them for wanting to devour it, Cal. Yours is the hottest entry in there!”
“You’re not listening! You tell those boys to keep the journal hidden in their cabin or they’re out of The League.” Cal’s warning is stern and serious. His warning has also piqued my interest. The boys were definitely fascinated by whatever it is that’s in that journal. And Cal has an entry in it?
I think I just might need to get my hands on that journal.
Chapter 10
Rain. All it’s done since one this the morning, is rain. We were due, though. It rained one solid day last summer and that’s when Mr. Fellows informed us that “summer isn’t summer without at least one good rainstorm.”
After breakfast I asked Mr. Fellows if I could spend the day sorting through and editing pictures, and would he mind turning the WiFi on for me. He thought it was a great idea since there’s no place for rainy pictures on the website or brochure. When I asked if there were any other areas of the camp I needed to feature, all he said was, “The lake! Always the lake! Lake Hollis is our bread and butter!” He’s so vague about exactly what it is he’s looking for, but, I guess that’s not totally weird. A lot of people can’t describe the kind of picture they’re looking for, or what they want taken; they just know it when they see it.
There’s still a strange division in the room. Addy’s clique is stationed at their usual place, and I’m sitting with what has become my usual crew … minus Miller. He moved back to the single table against the wall the other day where he’s writing furiously in his notebook again. His silent treatment got awkward after a few days so I guess he thought it best to move. The look he gave me the night of the incident with Margaret told me that I didn’t respond the way I was supposed to. Now he’s not talking to me and I don’t know how to fix it.
I’ve seen Cal only twice in the last week and it wasn’t anything to write home about. We hung out at the bonfire once, but that was short-lived. Addy was off with Mia doing I don’t know what. I basically stood next to Cal while he and Brad and Ted told stories of football glory. The other girls were totally into it but I seriously could not have cared less. The next time we took another mostly-silent walk on the trail. He kissed me again, and, again, I felt nothing. Somehow, whatever it is we’re doing doesn’t feel like how it’s supposed to feel.
On top of the awkwardness I already feel when I’m with Cal, I’m still thinking about how to find out what The League is and how to get that journal. I’ve tried to search their cabin, but any chance I’ve had hasn’t given me enough time to really look. I’m sure I’m making more of this than I need to. I should find something to distract me if I’m going to squash the curiosity that is piqued in me.
After a quick counselor meeting to strategize the day Mr. Fellows dismisses us. I tell Amy that I’m going to be holed up in our room all day and she offers to check on Margaret. I feel pretty confident that she’s okay. Well, on her way to being okay. It’s been several days, and after the way her roommates came to her I don’t think any of them are going to abandon her. I’ve spotted them around camp and they seem to be a strong band of sisters.
Friendship and support. I’ve been thinking about that a lot since my conversation with Amy. I lay in bed last night and listened to the rain pelt the window, wondering if I’ll ever be able to shut Addy and Christine’s voices out, not knowing if I’ll ever be able to trust my sister again. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be contemplating what to do after the betrayal of my own sister. I’m confused and all I really want to do is talk to Miller about it. But, I can’t because Miller isn’t talking to me.
The crowd begins to disperse and I reach for my raincoat. It’s in my hands when Addison takes it from me.
“Give me my raincoat, Addison,” I say flatly.
“Not until you talk to me.” She folds her arms in true Addison form, with my raincoat between her arms and her chest.
“Fine,” I say, giving in. If she’s ready to talk, then I’m willing to listen. “What is it that you’d like to say?” I stare at Addy, waiting to hear what sorry excuse for an apology she’s about to give, or how she’s going to turn it around and somehow make me the villain.
Seeing that I’m not going to initiate the conversation, Addison gives in and speaks. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Kinley.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, of course,” she says, offended that I would even question her sincerity.
“Do you have any idea how deep the cut is? This is a wound that is going to take a long time to heal.” Addy looks at me, at a loss for words. “You don’t have a clue.” Shaking my head, I reach for my raincoat and pull as hard as I can. I get most of it before Addy releases her arms and grabs ahold of the coat, keeping me standing in front of her.
“Okay … so I don’t completely understand how you feel. Honestly, I don’t really understand you at all. All Christine and I have ever done is tried to help you be better. You’re such an awesome person, Kin. I just want your outside to match your inside.” Addy’s tone rings of sincerity and I believe she truly believes what she’s saying. That’s the scary part.
“That’s the problem, Addison. Until you see the insanity of your statement, I can’t be around you.” I take my raincoat from her and put it on as I take a step toward the door.
“I’ve never done anything to intentionally hurt you, Kinley,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Everything I have ever done has been because I love you.”
“The fact that you believe that is the other problem.”
I head towards the door and see Miller bolt through it. I flip the hood up on my raincoat quickly and follow him out. He’s walking fast back toward The Lodge, which is convenient. If I can’t work up the nerve to confront him, I’m on my way back to The Lodge anyway. I slosh through the puddles in my rain boots and just try to breathe out the nervousness welling inside me. I’m about to call out his name when he stops dead in his tracks.
“Stop following me, Kinley,” he says without turning around. I can’t see his face or even the side of it because the hood on his raincoat is up, too.
“I’m not … I was just …” I stutter. “Why are you mad at me?” I manage to spit out.
He turns around and gives me that same confused look for a moment before he walks up close to me. My heart begins to beat hard inside my chest and I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared of what Miller is going to say, or because I don’t like the idea of Miller and I being on the outs.
“I’m not mad at you,” he says as the rain falls on us.
“Then why are you ignoring me? Why are you sitting at the other table? Why are you pushing me aw
ay?”
“I’m disappointed, Kinley. I was walking back with Margaret huddled under my arm and, outside of working to keep myself from beating the crap out of those boys, I was actually a little happy. I was happy because I thought that after you saw and heard what an insensitive ass Cal is that you would see he’s no good for you. But then you just stood there and mumbled some crap, essentially telling him that he was right and that I was over reacting.”
“That’s not … I don’t know … It was a very intense situation.” Why can’t I put the right words together? “I’m sorry …”
“I tell you everything about Kara and you don’t for a second consider that guys like this could have been the cause of her pain?” he shouts. He may say he’s not mad, but he is.
“Those kids weren’t even here then, Miller!”
“No, but their kind were! Guys like Cal make a tradition out of teasing and leading girls like Margaret, like Kara, on! Only I wasn’t around when Kara was here, so God only knows what they did to her!”
“Miller, please … please stop yelling at me. I’m sorry! No, I didn’t think about that at the time. Now that you say it, though, yes, it makes perfect sense why you were so upset. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I begin to cry, not sure of how I even ended up here: standing in the rain, arguing with the only person I’ve ever felt close to.
“You know what the worst part was? When I should have been royally pissed at Cal and those a-holes in training for carrying out the legacy that could have been the catalyst to my sister’s suicide … I was thinking about you. I was hurt. Not because you didn’t see the connection to Kara, but because I was sure you’d break things off with Cal. I thought you’d see the two of us standing there and know who to choose. But, you didn’t. And now I have two reasons to hate this place.”
He looks at me for a minute and, surprisingly, all I want is for him to hold me, for us to go back and recapture the moments and feelings we had the morning he took me to watch the sunrise. He shakes his head and walks away, leaving me standing in the rain like a scene in a sad movie. I have no words and no idea what to do next. I’m afraid to turn around for fear that an audience has assembled. I don’t need the sympathetic looks from anyone, especially my sister.
I clench my teeth and take a step forward. Once I make that first step I don’t stop until I reach my room. I don’t walk as quickly as I probably should for someone who’s afraid a crowd gathered and saw her be completely humiliated in the rain. I’m too caught up in my thoughts. I peel my rain boots and raincoat off and toss them in the corner of my room. I hope the water and mud dripping from them doesn’t mess up the floor.
He wanted me to choose him? He wanted me to choose him. Oh my god.
All this time we’ve been spending together it never occurred to me that Miller was looking at me that way. I thought … I thought we were just friends, just kindred, artistic spirits, two people who understood each other. Holy crap! I just defined the core of what any reasonable person looks for in a partner.
I am an idiot.
I’ve got to find Miller. I have to talk to him. I don’t know what I’m going to say exactly, but I have to find him. A glance out the window tells me that now is not the right time. It’s still pouring rain and everyone else is out there trying to occupy the time of easily-bored middle-schoolers. He needs time to cool off anyway. I’m not convinced he would listen to anything I had to say right now, so my search for him could be completely pointless.
I need to calm down, too. I have a ton of work ahead of me and despite all of this I have a job to do. I can’t abandon it to chase after Miller and apologize for being oblivious. The best thing for me to do is to throw myself into my work today. At some point I suppose I’ll have to revisit things with Miller, unless … unless the connection and closeness we shared just disintegrated in the pouring rain.
Opening my photo editing program, I begin sorting through the photos that I already decided I would keep. Because I’m trying to focus even harder now, I go back to the beginning of camp a couple of weeks ago. The first picture I work on is the one I took of Margaret that first day. Her raven hair shines in the sunlight and her smile is so honest. She was genuinely surprised to see me turn and take her picture over taking pictures of her roommates. I was kind of harsh with Paisley and the other girls, but it seems to have worked out for the best with them.
I brighten the picture and remove the bus from peeking through the buildings in the background. I don’t do anything to Margaret because I’m completely opposed to retouching photos of people. I entered into a losing battle with Addison over this. Of course, her position was that no one wants to see cellulite on a Victoria’s Secret poster. And, of course, she couldn’t wrap her brain around the fact that those girls are not a representation of real women. “They could be if real women tried harder,” she said. I could fill a book with the ridiculous statements Addison has made through the years.
I skip lunch in the dining hall and opt for a couple of apples and a Coke from the kitchen downstairs. I’m on a roll and since I started at the beginning, giving myself over two weeks of pictures to review and edit, I don’t want to lose too much momentum.
Hours pass and my vision is getting blurry. All these kids and trees are starting to look alike. I put all the potential camp pictures in one file on my computer, which means I haven’t had to cross over any pictures of Cal or Addison or Miller. I need to take my mind off camp for a while so I open file of shots I took in the city to clear my head. They’re so industrial compared to what I’ve been looking at. The exact opposite. “This is what I need right now,” I say to myself.
What could be more opposite than the Fellows’ pictures from the Grand Canyon? I need to smile and I’m sure there are matching shirts and fanny packs somewhere in this album. I open the file and it does not disappoint. The scenery is breathtaking, but I’m mostly interested in what the Fellows have to offer. Picture after picture I smile at how perfect they are for each other, and cringe at their awkwardness. It makes me hopeful.
“So this is what ‘working’ looks like?” Matthew says as he opens the door to my room. “You are so busted!”
“I think we’re going to have to report you!” Amy says, following close behind him with a napkin filled with cookies in her hand.
“Of course you would show up just as I’m taking a break!” I laugh.
“I brought you a cookie, but I’m not sure you deserve it.” Amy waves a cookie in front of my and Matthew’s faces and I roll my eyes at her silliness.
“Why are you taunting me?” Matthews says, snatching the cookie from her hand. “I’ve been working all morning! I didn’t get almost thrown up on by a claustrophobic ten-year-old for nothing!”
“Okay, okay, okay! How about I pay for your silence with some choice pictures of the Fellows on a romantic getaway to Lake Tahoe?” I click open the file and the first picture of Rick and Mary Fellows and Amy shoves a cookie in my mouth as she scoots me over on the bed and takes my laptop from me.
“Oh. My. God! Is he wearing gold chains? I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,” Matthew says with a pained look across his face.
“Boy, he rocks that Uncle Creepy look a little too well! But Mrs. Fellows is actually looking pretty hot in that strapless number!” Amy says as we examine a picture of the Fellows at what appears to be a pretty ritzy restaurant. Mrs. Fellows is wearing a red, strapless dress with a full, tea-length skirt and red heels. Mr. Fellows has his arm around her waist and is wearing a suit, no tie, and the top three buttons undone. His chest hair is showing with two gold chains nestled among the wild forest.
We click through the album and the pictures just get worse and worse. There are suspenders, overalls, and, yes, socks with sandals. “Oh wow! They really are an odd couple, aren’t they?” Matthew declares.
“That’s an understatement!” Amy laughs.
“Yeah, but they’re so perfect together.” I swoon just a little.
“And
they’re seriously two of the nicest people ever,” Amy agrees.
“Oh, hey! We gotta go, Amy,” Matthew says, checking his watch. “We told Pete we were just going to bring you a cookie and check up on you. You’re … okay, aren’t you, Kin?” Matthew fixes a wild lock of my hair behind my ear and smiles sweetly at me.
“Yeah. I’m okay. I don’t know if Addy and I are going to get passed all this, but I know that I’m going to be fine,” I tell him, mirroring his smile. “Thanks for coming to check on me, guys. I appreciate it! But now, alas, I have to get back to work. My eyes aren’t totally crossed anymore, so I guess that means break is over!”
We chuckle and say our goodbyes. Amy and Matthew make me promise to come to dinner in the dining hall. I don’t tell them about my argument with Miller, although Amy was there that night and would surely side with him … and unknowingly already has for the most part. But, despite my fear of seeing him, I promise my friends that I’ll be there.
The door clicks closed behind them and I position myself on my bed with the laptop again, ready to dive into more Camp at Lake Hollis pictures. I’ve really only gotten through a quarter of them. I need to go back to my photo editing program, but I convince myself that checking out a few more pictures of the Fellows won’t hurt. I may even find a great shot of the Grand Canyon!
I finish their vacation photos pretty quickly. I didn’t realize Matthew, Amy and I had gone through so many of them. I should close this out completely, but sitting there to the left is the list of album titles. And there it is: Mary’s album full of trips to see her mother. If Mr. Fellows won’t even look in it, I figure that it must be awesome, so I immediately open it. A few photos in and I’m not disappointed. Mrs. Fellows’ family looks as crazy as they do wonderful! There are big hats and big boobs, of which Mrs. Fellows did not inherit. There’s a beer can tower in one corner of the room in one picture, and tea with cucumber sandwiches in another picture. They all look so happy being odd and out of place together.
As I Am Page 14