by B. R. Myers
I won. I won. I won.
He pointed across the lawn. “Great,” he said, sounding bored. “Meet one of your charges.”
I looked over my shoulder and my heart deflated. I lost.
FOUR
Cabin 4A was nestled between the similar but larger cabins 4 and 5. All the buildings were situated on a grassy incline towards the lake. If I wasn’t so terrified, I would have appreciated the view. The narrow beach was mostly empty except for a row of colourful canoes. A wharf of sun-bleached wood stretched out into the still, blue lake.
Spencer the mud-slinging scoundrel and I stood on the porch. A plague that read “Nurse’s Office” had been covered up with a white sheet of paper with “Cabin 4A” written in black marker.
“What are you waiting for?” he snapped. “Do you want me to carry you across the threshold?”
I tugged on my duffel bag strap. “No,” I said. “You first.”
He pushed through the screen door. His red hair was so bushy it added a few inches to his height, bringing him to my shoulders. Without hesitating, he walked over to the bed farthest from the door and threw down his bag, claiming the lower bunk.
The rustic room had two sets of bunk beds pushed up against the walls with two large windows in front, giving a view of the lake. L. L. Bean meets IKEA, I thought. Kirk hadn’t been kidding. The old nurse’s office still had a medicinal smell.
“This is nice,” I said, trying to sound calm and in control. My knees began to shake imagining the bunk beds filling up with other Spencers. I took an uneasy glance over my shoulder, but no one else had followed us.
“It’s so small,” he said. “This sucks. Are we the only ones staying here?” Under the annoying whiny twang I could hear the panic in his voice. Inside my head I secretly agreed. Me and Spencer playing Monopoly on rainy days was enough to bring up my breakfast.
“Well,” I began, determined not to let his pissy attitude drag me down, “think of it as being an exclusive cabin.”
He gave me an unimpressed grunt. “Whatever,” he said, beginning to unpack. He was a walking advertisement with his high end sneakers, designer clothes, and expensive watch. This kid was rich. He took out an iPhone 5 and tossed it on the bed.
Seriously? I pictured my scraped-up two-year-old Samsung collecting dust on my dresser back home. I already disliked this kid. “I didn’t think you were allowed electronics,” I said.
He didn’t even bother to look at me. “Only if they catch you.”
Here we go, I thought. The first hurdle. Even though I’d turned my back on track, the training was ingrained deeply. I was taught to attack the first hurdle; it sets the pace for the rest of the race.
I dropped my duffel bag and held out my hand, hoping he couldn’t see it shaking. “You have to give that to me,” I said.
He stopped unpacking and stared back at me. It was the Wild West all over again. I didn’t flinch, but neither did he.
A draw.
“You have to give that to me,” I repeated.
He stayed perfectly still, not even blinking. “Or else…?”
I had to think fast. What would motivate this brat? I pictured Devin leering down at him with his arms folded across that massive chest, but it didn’t seem like my receiver would be showing up. Oh god, Grandma, I thought.
Totally embarrassed I would ever stoop to this, I covered my eyes with my hand and did a few fake sniffles. “Please,” I sobbed. “I’ll get in trouble. I can’t be fired. I really need the money. And in the car, on the way here, my boyfriend broke up with me and I…I just started my period.”
I waited, hiding behind my cupped hands, making the sobs louder. But Spencer stayed quiet. I cried a little longer, wondering how long this was supposed to take. I peeked at him through my fingers.
He was staring at me with a tired expression. “Done?” he asked, unfazed by my performance. My hands fell away from my face. “That was so lame,” he said, one corner of his mouth curling up.
I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my white shorts. “Fine. Whatever.” I took a few steps back. “I’m not wasting my breath, I don’t care. I bet you’ll be kicked out by tomorrow, anyway.” Spencer only seemed to grin more at that statement, like he was enjoying a private joke. Then I remembered his dad owned the frickin’ camp.
There was nothing I could do. I quickly turned as real tears started to build up, ashamed this little jerk could make me cry.
“Hey!” Spencer said.
I turned around, my hands still in the front pockets of my shorts. The iPhone hit me in the chest and fell to the floor. We both stared down at the cracked screen. “You loser,” he said. “You broke it.”
“I broke it?”
“What are you, stupid or something? Can’t you even catch?” He stooped down to pick it up, but I was fast and managed to grab it out of his hand and tuck it into my pocket.
“I can’t catch with my face,” I said. “Besides, it’s only a cracked screen.” He stared back at me, trying to size me up. I noticed his ears were a nice shade of crimson. A little thrill ran through me, knowing I was pissing him off. Finally he realized I wasn’t giving it back, and judged it wasn’t worth the bother. I guessed a kid that rich was probably used to getting broken gadgets upgraded all the time. He’d probably have a brand new iPhone 6 waiting for him at home after camp.
He mumbled something I couldn’t exactly make out, then put his attention back to his stuff.
I opened the only other door in the cabin and found my bedroom—well, what was probably the nurse’s closet, actually. The twin bed practically filled the entire space. A clipboard was hanging from a nail in the wall. I scanned the activity schedule: archery, sailing, canoe, kayak, hiking, soccer, swimming…
God, the schedule went on and on. Thankfully, I noticed, running wasn’t listed.
I closed the door behind me and dropped my heavy bag on the floor. I crawled across the bed to the open window. A warm breeze scented with pine blew through the screen. I smiled and relaxed—just a bit.
There were three long drawers under my twin bed. I began to unpack. The top layer was mostly T-shirts and shorts (what else do I ever wear?), with socks and underwear crammed into any free space.
As I pulled out more items, I found some surprises. The little red diary I’d been using as a prop to ease Mom’s mind had been sent with me. I guess the pamphlet was big on encouraging your depressed teen to write a daily journal. I took the Book of Lies and tossed it aside. No need to keep up that charade.
There was also a hair straightener and extra makeup, along with several other bags labelled in Chloe’s handwriting. HOT DATE. DANCE. BONFIRE. MIDNIGHT STROLL.
Ah, my ensembles.
Devin’s face came to mind. I placed those precious bags in their own drawer. I knew the other three boys would be arriving soon, so I started grabbing things and throwing them on the bed. When the bag was almost empty, I took inventory of the pile.
“Grandma,” I groaned. She had packed four boxes of condoms. Four boxes! There was a note.
Dear Jesse,
I asked the nice pharmacist at the drug store what would be best for a smart girl who should be prepared for anything. Feel free to share them with your friends. They might not have a grandma who loves them.
P.S. Did you know you can buy Victoria’s Secret online? Chloe helped pick them out.
I didn’t look at all of them, but the thong decorated with s’mores and the one stamped with Who’s Up For a Weenie Roast made me laugh. I dropped the new underwear in the drawer along with the four boxes of what would probably become water balloons.
Only one item remained. It was a small, flat black box.
I lifted the cover. It was my wraparound necklace. Tiny colourful beads threaded all the way around, with a dime-sized silver disc in the middle. It had been a gift from Mom and Dad af
ter I broke my very first provincial record, when I was fifteen. We joked that the charm was my first medal. Since then, before every event, I always rubbed the silver between my finger and thumb for luck.
But, like my runners, I had hidden this. Or so I thought. There was no note from Mom, but it wasn’t needed. For luck, it said to me.
Voices caught my attention. I zipped up the duffel bag, still full of junk, and shoved it in the corner. I wiped my face a few times, then came out of my room and saw two boys standing on the porch.
“Is this Cabin 4A?” a fair-haired boy asked, looking through the screen door.
“Yup,” I said, running over like an anxious hostess. He walked in, followed by his brother—clearly an identical twin. They shared the same short, spiky, blond hair, thin arms and legs, and blue eyes. Disastrous scenes from The Parent Trap played in my mind.
“Hi,” I said, reaching out my sweaty hand. “I’m Jesse.”
“I’m Liam,” said the first brother, ignoring my hand. “And this is Duff.” Duff only nodded. Wordlessly, they chose the bunk beds opposite Spencer.
Spencer ran a hand through his mop of red hair and extended a fist to Liam. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Liam replied, reaching out, touching fists.
“Oh, do you guys already know each other?” I asked.
“No.” Spencer frowned at me, then looked at the twins and rolled his eyes.
The twins unpacked, and fell into an easy alliance with Spencer. A quick comment about video games I had never heard of stimulated five minutes of commentary from Liam, peppered with critiques by Spencer. Duff, it seemed, was the quiet twin.
After a few moments, they noticed I was still in the room.
“Oh,” Liam said. “I didn’t know we had our own maid.”
I put my hands on my hips, and gave him my best Lara Croft, Tomb Raider impression. “I’m your counsellor,” I said.
“What?” Liam dropped his grin. Duff tapped his brother on the shoulder.
“She’s the counsellor,” Liam said to Duff, making gestures with his hands. Duff answered him with quicker sign language.
Liam nodded to his brother. “Yeah, I know.”
“What did he say?” Spencer asked Liam.
“If he knew it was going to be coed, he would have asked for the hot blond with the ponytail.”
Spencer gave me a crooked smirk. “If you leave, do we get another counsellor?”
“Why would I leave?” I asked. Although secretly I rejoiced at the idea.
Spencer remained quiet, but his expression made me uncomfortable. I retreated to my little room, leaving the snickering behind me. I checked my watch. Only twenty minutes on the job and I was already in last place. My eyes fell on the black box.
For luck.
I put the necklace on and faced the small oval mirror on the wall. The necklace was short, almost a choker, perfect for running since it never bounced or tangled. My finger automatically touched the dangling silver disc. I was no longer the track star, but the new girl, ready for a summer of freedom from nosy stares and gossip.
But no matter what happened at Kamp Krystal Lake, I couldn’t quit. Chloe was expecting Old Jesse. I had to figure out how to pull that off by the end of the summer. This job was a chance for me to create a new life, even if that meant faking it every single second.
“I can do this,” I whispered to my reflection.
FIVE
Since the other kid was a no-show and Spencer’s whining about starving to death made me want to break his iPhone for real, the Three Musketeers and I walked up the grassy slope to the Main Hall. There would be a lunch buffet, welcoming announcements, and the official opening of Kamp Krystal Lake.
The boys made a dash for the food lineup, putting as much distance between me and them as they could. Once I had my plate of spaghetti and meatballs, I scanned the long rows of tables and benches that were filling up. Not one familiar face. Anonymity, I now understood with a sinking feeling, comes with a price.
The tray felt dangerously lopsided in my sweaty hands as I walked around groups of kids, hoping to find any empty space to slink into.
“Just Jesse,” Kirk said, right behind me. “You’re still here. That’s a good sign.”
I straightened my back, and switched to offensive mode, ready for another staring contest. We were both in flip-flops and my eyes came to his chin. He stared at my necklace. For a second I couldn’t breathe. He cleared his throat, making eye contact again. “The boys’ cabins can seem a bit rough for a girl.”
“You have no idea how tough I am.” I turned away, purposely paused for a moment, and then faced him again. He was still standing there, half a smirk on his face. I reached into my pocket and handed him Spencer’s iPhone, like I was Perseus giving Athena the head of Medusa. “Here you go,” I said. “Apparently Spencer was under the impression he’s above the rules.”
The look of surprise on his face was gratifying. Of course, I didn’t mention that Spencer threw it at me and then it fell to the floor and smashed.
A huge belch from the far end of the room made us both turn.
“Time to join your table,” he said, nodding to my Three Musketeers.
Well, that victory was short lived, I thought. “I’m still waiting for the other kid,” I said.
“He’s already with the others.”
A head of thick black hair had joined Spencer and the twins.
“His name is Scotty,” Kirk said. Then he walked by me without a glance.
Jerk.
I plunked my tray beside Spencer’s and sat opposite the new kid. “Hi, I’m Jesse,” I said.
“I know,” he smiled. “I’m Scotty.”
“Did you get a chance to unpack your stuff?” I asked.
“Yup,” he nodded. “I know my way around. I’ve been coming here for a while.”
Since meeting Devin, this was the first pleasant conversation I’d had all day. Scotty was my favourite already. And what about Devin? Where was he? My eyes scanned the room, but there were too many people. I tried not to get my hopes up; he was probably nice to all the new girls.
Yeah, that’s me, the new girl, still striking out with the boys. Grandma’s condoms might as well be a pair of moon boots, since I have a better chance of travelling to outer space than having sex this summer.
What was wrong with me? I couldn’t care less about making out. Besides, what I really wanted I could never have. What I really wanted, I didn’t deserve.
I half-listened to the boys’ discussion about the latest horror video game. High praise was being given to the amount of blood spilled. I twirled my spaghetti on the spoon, watching Liam talk with Duff. Their hand movements were so fluid it was quite beautiful, actually.
“It’s rude to stare,” Liam said.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I find it fascinating. Do you think you could teach me?”
Liam and Duff exchanged a glance.
“Um, yeah,” Liam agreed. “Sure.”
They taught me about ten signs in a few minutes. “The real secret to doing it well,” Liam said, “is to practice every day.”
“Thanks,” I smiled. Hurdle number two successfully cleared. But I was cautiously optimistic. I hadn’t had this many highs and lows in one day since Grandma and I broke the record for most consecutive turns on the Cyclone roller coaster last summer vacation.
Spencer had finished with his meal, and was now working on dessert. A thick slice of blueberry pie lay oozing on his plate.
“Oh man, are you going to eat that whole thing?” Liam asked.
“The blueberry pie here is the best,” Spencer said. He looked up at me. “You should try a slice.”
The background chatter quieted as the camp director stood up at the front of the room. A thick brown braid snaked from under her Tilley hat, wrapping
over her shoulder and down her chest. With a clipboard in one hand and a megaphone in the other, I could tell she was all meat and potatoes.
“Welcome to another summer at Kamp Krystal Lake,” she began. “I know everyone is anxious to get outside, so I’m going to make this quick. Any kind of electronic device, including cell phones, is strictly prohibited. Your parents did not pay good money to have you texting two-word sentences eighteen hours a day.”
From the corner of my eye, I watched Spencer stab a blueberry with his fork. He was probably picturing my eyeballs with each jab.
She mentioned a few more items, and then announced something about a talent show and a cabin-decorating contest. This resulted in an explosion of giggles from one of the girls’ tables. From the expression on the boys’ faces, I had a suspicion Cabin 4A wouldn’t be participating.
“And finally the triathlon,” she said. The whole room became animated with cheering and yelling. Some people even stood up and clapped.
“What’s that all about?” I asked Scotty.
“It’s the annual summer competition between the camps that share the lake,” he explained.
“There’s other camps close by?” I asked. My voice picked up at the thought of a transfer. Why hadn’t Kirk even mentioned that? Oh, right, because he’s a jerk.
“I wouldn’t say they’re close,” Scotty said. “Krystal Lake is so huge it’d take all day to get to them by canoe. The only time we see them is during the competition.”
“Oh.” My voice dropped. I sucked at paddling.
Scotty picked at his thumbnail. “We’ve never won,” he said. “Ever.” His tone was clipped, clearly frustrated with his camp’s lack of success.
I noticed the main hall was still buzzing. It seemed most of the kids were hungry for a victory.
If this were an after-school special, I could anticipate how my summer would go. I looked down at my half-eaten spaghetti. This was no after-school special. The triathlon was not my sport. I would never have a sport again.