“Sleep with me?”
“I have to sleep in my own bunk, Priss.”
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?”
“I can't, Prissy.”
She starts to blubber again.
“I'll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”
She immediately stops crying. “Okay.”
It takes her hours to fall asleep. Okay, fine, more like forty minutes, but it feels like hours.
I slowly extract myself from Prissy's iron grip and tiptoe across the cabin. I carefully open the door, trying hard not to let it creak, and say good-bye to the on-duty counselor. Then I cross Lower Field, passing the mess hall and the beach. I notice with hope that some older campers are still milling around. Maybe I'll see Raf. But no Raf. Maybe he'll be waiting for me on my porch.
I hurry along the road, wanting to get there as fast as possible, so that we can make use of the last few minutes before curfew. I turn left, toward the hill that leads to my bunk.
Someone is standing on the steps. It's a guy! It must be Raf.
Nah, it can't be Raf. The guy is leaning in to kiss someone.
They're kissing! Anthony and Deb, maybe? Hello, gossip!
It doesn't look like Anthony and Deb.
I take a few steps closer. My heart turns to ice.
It can't be.
It can't be, but it is. It's Raf.
And he's kissing Liana.
14
THE BOYFRIEND-STEALER
I can't move. My shoes are stuck to the gravel. Or perhaps my feet are too heavy because my heart has sunk to the bottom of my toes. I can't do anything but watch.
They're kissing. My quasi boyfriend is kissing another girl. Not peck-peck, nice-to-see-you-dear kissing but real, heavy-duty frenching. Their heads are rolling from side to side and I want to yell at them to stop, but no words come out.
I think I'm going to be sick.
Eventually, Liana pulls away. She turns to face me and smiles.
Raf's eyes pop wide open. “Rachel, hi!” he says. Either he's not as bright as I thought he was, or he thinks I'm blind, because the next thing I know, he's asking, “What's wrong?”
At first I'm speechless. Finally, words flow from my mouth. “You just swallowed Liana's tongue.”
“Hi, Rachel,” Liana purrs. “Raf, you should probably go back to your bunk now.”
“I–I don't understand,” Raf stammers.
The raw will is brewing inside me. My legs and toes and arms and fingers are trembling. I want to do something terrible. Something awful. I want to yank Raf and Liana up and hurl them into the lake. I want to drop them headfirst onto the tennis courts. I want to turn Raf into a six-legged toad and Liana into a turkey—just before Thanksgiving.
Raf chose Liana over me.
Raf never really liked me.
But I was his swimming buddy, wasn't I?
I feel like I've swallowed a fifty-pound beach ball. Yeah, I was his buddy, all right. I was his . . . friend.
The towels on the railings of the porch start to quiver. I take a deep breath. I'm not going to let my magic get out of control. I need to calm down before I accidentally blow up the camp. Think megels, I order myself. Harness that energy! Concentrate!
The towels lie still. I back away from the porch.
If there's ever been a time when I needed Miri, it's now. Not because she's a witch. Because she's my sister.
I run across camp, past the gawking campers, up the stairs to her bunk, and over to her bed. She's already in it, under her covers, reading her spell book. I climb up her ladder and slither under the sheet beside her. “Mir, I have to talk to you.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
The other girls perk up in their beds.
“Somewhere private,” I whisper.
She pulls out a small bag filled with a green and black concoction, sprinkles some of it into the air, and whispers:
“As the day is short and the night is long,
Your sense of sound will now be gone.”
“What was that?”
“A new spell I learned. They won't hear you for the rest of the night. They won't hear anything for the rest of the night.”
That sounds kind of mean. “When did you learn that?”
“I do have a life beyond you, you know.”
So she keeps telling me. “Mir, something awful happened.”
“What?”
“When I left Prissy's, I went back to my bunk and saw Raf and Liana kissing!”
Her mouth drops open. “No way.”
“Way. I swear, I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Honestly, Rachel, I don't think Liana would do that. She's not interested in Raf.”
I narrow my eyes. “How would you know?”
“I know. Liana and I are friends.”
“Liana isn't your friend, Miri. She's a horrible person.”
Miri hugs her pillow to her chest. “She is not! I will not let you bad-mouth her like that.”
My mouth is drier than a beach full of sand. “You can't be friends with someone who tried to steal my boyfriend!”
“Raf isn't your boyfriend.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “He kind of is.”
“It's not all about you, Rachel.”
I feel like I've been slapped. “What are you talking about?”
“You can't have everything,” she snaps.“
I don't have everything.”
She flips her hair, like she's Liana. “You act like you think you deserve everything. Like you're owed.”
“What has gotten into you?”
“You know what? I don't want to talk to you anymore.”
“But I want to talk to you,” I plead. I don't understand why she's being so mean to me.
“You don't get to make all the decisions, and I don't want to listen.” She dips her hand back into her bag, sprinkles the green and black powder again, and chants:
“As the day is short and the night is long,
My sense of sound will now be gone.”
“Are you kidding me?” I scream.
She turns her back on me. “Sorry, can't hear you.”
My hands are shaking with anger. I storm out of her bunk, slamming the door with a bang—not that anyone can hear it.
I walk aimlessly around camp for the next few hours. When I finally return to my bunk, Deb is waiting on the porch.
“Where have you been?” she asks, glaring at me.
“Around,” I say. I don't feel like dealing with her now. My head is pounding and I just want to go to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up and this whole mess will have been a dream.
“I don't know who you think you are,” Deb says. “You can't just wander around by yourself for over three hours.”
“I'm sorry,” I say listlessly.
“Sorry isn't good enough,” Deb says. “You're zapped.”
Yes, I am. Miri just zapped me in the heart.
“For a week,” Deb adds.
I open the door and stagger into fourteen. All the girls are already in bed, including Liana. She's the only one awake.
“Everything all right, Rachel?” she asks.
“Shut up, Liana.”
I don't even bother getting washed. I climb up my ladder and try to sleep, but I keep hearing Liana's voice in my head: Everything all right, Rachel? What a phony.
“My sense of Liana now be gone,” I whisper to the darkness.
If only she were a mosquito and I could poof her into oblivion.
Raf approaches me at flagpole. “Can we talk?”
I ignore him.
“Please, Rache, I don't understand why you're ignoring me.”
You've got to be kidding. I can't believe I was so wrong about him for so long. I've liked him since September. That's eleven months! What a waste of time. What a waste of energy.
What a jerk-off.
I tell Poodles the story as we walk to the mess hall.
“I can't believe it,” she says, shaki
ng her head. “I'm going to kill her. And him. How could he do that to you? We'll boycott her. No worries. I'll tell Carly and Morgan the plan.” She puts her arm around me and squeezes me tightly. “He's not good enough for you.”
She's the best. “Hey, Poodles, what exactly does zapping entail?”
“Ouch, when did that happen?”
“Last night.”
“It means you can't leave the bunk for free play and you have to go straight back to the bunk after evening activity.”
“Deb zapped me for a week.”
“No way! That was harsh. I wonder what's up with her. She's never zapped anyone for that long. Last year I got zapped for one night, but that's it.”
Whatever. It's not like I have anyone outside my bunk to hang out with.
“Rachel,” Deb says, hands on her hips, “isn't it your job to do the porch today?”
It's cleanup, and I'm in bed, trying to sleep off my pain and avoid Liana simultaneously. “It might be.”
“I'd appreciate it if you did it,” she says. “It's a mess; there are towels all over the place.”
“She's right,” Liana coos while sweeping next to our bed. “It's embarrassing. I can't ask boys over here if it's going to look like that.”
Boys? She's cheating on my Raf already? Omigod. How can she be so horrible?
“I agree,” Morgan says. “It's not right.”
I can't believe that Morgan is being nasty to me when my heart is broken. I climb down the ladder and head to the porch. At least out there I won't have to listen to her.
Or face Liana.
We have pottery with bunk fifteen after cleanup. I use the period to enjoy pounding the clay between my hands, trying to look threatening. The others are making bowls.
Poodles, a troubled expression on her face, pulls me to the sink. “Bad news,” she says, turning on the water so that no one can hear us.
“What is it?”
“Liana is claiming that the kiss never happened. That you made it up to turn us against her.”
“What?”
“She says you've had it in for her from day one.”
I storm right over to Liana, Poodles following close behind. “You are such a liar,” I say. “I saw you.”
Liana shakes her head, all innocent-eyed. “I don't know why you hate me so much, Rachel. I've never done anything to you.”
“Yes, you did! You stole my boyfriend!” I scan the room for a piece of hardened clay I can throw at her.
She shakes her glossy hair from side to side. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Really,” says Poodles icily. Then she turns to me. “Why don't we just ask Raf? I'm sure he knows what you're talking about. We'll get him to admit the truth.”
Oh God. I can't think of anything more embarrassing. What does she intend to do, march right up to him and say, “So, Raf, I hear you've been cheating on Rachel, who's so crazy about you that she can't see straight and is now devastated for life”? I know that Poodles means well, but . . . “Um, I don't think that's such a good idea, Poodles.”
Liana smirks. “Go ahead, ask him. He'll back me up.”
Big talker. She knows I'd rather be boiled in oil than go through the humiliation of confronting Raf. She's bluffing.
Isn't she?
Of course she is. I mean, why would he deny it? It wasn't like he was trying to hide what he was doing. He was making out on the front porch in broad daylight. Broad moonlight, that is, but still.
The smell of clay starts to make me sick—or maybe it's the state of my life. “I think I need some air,” I say, and head out of the pottery room.
Poodles follows me outside. “I don't know why everyone loves Liana so much.”
Laughter erupts from the pottery room. “Liana, you are so right!” Morgan squeals.
Nothing feels right anymore.
“Can I talk to you?” Raf asks, sneaking up behind me on my way out of the mess hall after lunch.
“No.”
“Rachel, please.”
I stomp down the stairs, pretending he isn't behind me.
“I can't stand that you're mad at me,” he says.
“Well, do you blame me?” So much for not confronting him. But hey, he was the one who brought it up.
And then I have a thought. A small happy thought. What if she kissed him? What if he was on the porch waiting for me, and then she attacked him or something, and he was just about to push her away when I came along and misinterpreted? It happens on TV all the time.
I wave him over to the picnic table and I sit on the bench. “Go ahead,” I say, unable to mask the hope that's crept into my voice. “Talk.”
He follows me like a puppy with its tail between its legs. “I like you, Rachel,” he begins. “A lot.”
I wait for him to say, And Liana attacked me. I stare into his eyes and wonder if I can forgive him. I think I can. If she came on to him, I mean. And if he was about to pull away.
“And I don't understand why you're mad at me.”
What? Is he insane? “You kissed Liana,” I say. “Is that a good enough reason?”
He shakes his head. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I saw!”
He looks like he's been slapped. “You couldn't have! It never happened!”
Is this some kind of plot that he and Liana concocted to make me think I'm going crazy? I might be a little unnerved, but I'm not ready for the funny farm just yet. “You're a liar, Raf. An awful liar. You make me sick.”
His face pales. “How could you say something like that?”
“I. Saw. You.” I can barely speak. The lump in my throat is so large that I can't even swallow. I can't see, either, because my eyes are brimming with tears. First he kisses her and then he lies to me?
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You're a complete jerk! I can't believe I was so wrong about you! I don't want to speak to you ever again.” Saying these words breaks my heart in two, but what else can I do?
I turn away and see Miri and Liana walking out of the mess hall together, laughing and deep in conversation.
I look from Raf to Miri and then back to Raf. Who is this Liana, and why is she stealing my life?
At least I have Poodles and Carly. For the next few days, they're the only people I hang out with. Liana and Morgan have formed a tight little twosome, essentially ripping our bunk in half.
And I won't even look at Raf. I keep expecting to see him and Liana together acting all couple-y, but it doesn't happen. He spends all his time with Anderson, Blume, and Colton and with Will's bunk. It's almost as if Liana was never interested in a relationship with him to begin with. All she wanted was to ruin what I had with him.
Miri and I still aren't speaking. I'm too hurt to talk to her, and she hasn't made even a tiny effort to apologize to me. She can go hang out with her new friend, Liana, for all I care. I have another sister at camp. An adorable, cheerful sister.
Prissy is having a blast. At any hour of the day, she and her five starter camp bunkmates can be found laughing, jumping, and cheering, “We're bunk one, and we like to have fun! We're as sweet as a flower, but we don't like to shower!”
Her arms are weighed down with dozens of lanyard bracelets, her princess white dresses and outfits are caked with dirt, her hair looks like a bird's nest, and I'm pretty sure she has yet to crack open her toothpaste, but she's having a ball, so what the heck?
I take lots of pictures to freak out Jennifer with when I get home. They'll be my payback for all the embarrassing packages. This week I got foot deodorant spray. I mean, hello? It's camp; our feet are supposed to smell.
Since I'm zapped, I spend all my free time in the bathroom, practicing my megels. By the end of the week, I am much improved. I mean really improved. I can lift and lower that toilet paper roll with my eyes closed and one hand behind my back. Not that I need both hands to do it, but it's a neat trick. It might be useful the next time I'm in a publi
c bathroom and the person in the next stall reaches under and asks for some paper.
The Saturday after visiting day is a scorcher. Head staff calls for an afternoon sun and swim, which means that the entire camp gets to hang out at the beach in lieu of participating in indoor activities. We can swim, we can go boating, or we can tan.
Poodles, Carly, and I are lying on our towels, trying to relax. Trying being the operative word. How can I possibly relax when Liana and Miri are together in the middle of the lake in a paddleboat?
I don't understand why Liana wants to hang out with my sister. It makes no sense.
“Did any of you see the way Liana told Morgan what to wear today?” Carly asks. “She's so bossy.”
“Morgan has been acting like an android,” Poodles says. “It's like she's under Liana's spell. And bunk fifteen is no better. They still follow Liana around, and they're not even in the same bunk anymore.”
They do act kind of . . . bewitched.
Miri.
No.
You think?
My own little sister a traitor? A Benedict Arnold?
But why?
I gaze at the paddleboat. Liana is laughing at something Miri is saying.
Liana is why. I shift uneasily on the sand. What if Miri told Liana she's a witch, and now, eager for the attention, she's doing whatever Liana asks her to? Miri told me she didn't care if anyone found out. Unfortunately, it was Liana, someone who'd just love to get her greedy little hands on all that power.
Poodles adjusts her towel. “If I have to hear about her glamorous life in Switzerland one more time, I might have to shoot her. And why is she so obsessed with her water bottle? She's constantly trying to get us to drink from it.”
“Maybe it's spiked.” Carly laughs. “Maybe she's trying to get you drunk.”
Why is Liana so obsessed with that water bottle? Come to think of it, Morgan drank from it. So did all of bunk fifteen, during soccer, way back on the third day. Deb drank from it too. Poodles, Carly, and I haven't.
A spell?
No—impossible. Miri wouldn't do such a thing.
Goose bumps cover my body.
Maybe I'm wrong about Miri. Maybe there's another explanation.
Spells & Sleeping Bags Page 16