Charmed Forces #19

by Melissa J Morgan

  Everyone gasped. Chelsea looked horrified. “Did she die?” Brynn asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alyssa said. “It wasn’t clear. But I think she was hurt. Because then I saw these throbbing red lights, like ambulance lights—”

  “Oh my gosh!” Chelsea cried.

  “What does it mean?” Natalie asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Alyssa said. “But I have a feeling the answer will come eventually, in some form or another. I just hope I’ll know it when I see it.”

  “So something bad is going to happen to me?” Chelsea said. “You’re just not sure what it is yet? But I might get conked in the head?”

  “I don’t know for sure, Chelsea,” Alyssa said.

  “Maybe getting hit in the head was just a symbol,” Natalie said. “Maybe it stands for something else—something less . . . painful.”

  Chelsea frowned and pushed her plate away, her eggs uneaten. “I don’t like this one bit. I don’t believe in all your silly rock magic, and I don’t like being dreamed about without my permission!”

  “Sorry, Chelsea,” Alyssa said. “I’ll ask you to sign a waiver next time.”

  “I think Alyssa’s dream was a premonition,” Sloan said. “A prediction of something that’s going to happen.”

  “What?” Chelsea said. “I’m going to be killed by a mysterious white thing? You’re saying that’s really going to happen?”

  “That’s crazy,” Alex said. “Alyssa can’t predict the future in her dreams.”

  “Of course she can,” Gaby said. “Haven’t you been paying attention? How do you explain all the weird things that she’s been able to do since she found Amanda?”

  “That’s Amy,” Alyssa said.

  “I would have named her Amanda,” Gaby said. “If it were up to me.”

  “Well it isn’t up to you.” Alyssa was annoyed.

  “How about, um, coincidence?” Tori said.

  “What about Tumtum?” Natalie said. “Alyssa interpreted my dream completely right. Like she read my mind. And she predicted the correct outcome.”

  “Oh, like that was so hard to figure out,” Chelsea said.

  The 6B table was divided on the issue. Natalie, Sloan, Brynn, Gaby, and Valerie believed that Amy had given Alyssa some kind of psychic power. Alex, Jenna, Chelsea, Priya, Tori, and Candace thought it was all a bunch of hogwash.

  Mandy arrived fresh from her counselors’ meeting. “Big news, girls!” She paused and looked at the flushed, irritated faces at her table. “Now what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” Alyssa said. “What’s the big news?”

  “We’re going on a surprise field trip!” Mandy said. “In a couple of weeks. Dr. Steve just finalized the details.”

  “Where?” Tori asked.

  “To Philadelphia,” Mandy said. “To a baseball game! Mets versus Phillies. The whole camp is going.”

  “Excellent!” Valerie and Gaby, who were both from Philadelphia and big Phillies fans, high-fived each other.

  “Yes!” Chelsea cheered. She was from Pennsylvania, too.

  Natalie nudged Alyssa. “Go Mets!”

  “My psychic prediction: The Mets are going down!” Alyssa was psyched. Her hometown in South Jersey was practically a suburb of Philadelphia, and she’d been a Phillies fan all her life. Nat wasn’t a big baseball fan, but she’d be sure to root for the New York Mets.

  But then, there in the stuffy mess hall amid all the excitement, Alyssa suddenly shivered. A baseball game. Of course. That was it! The key to everything!

  “Wait,” she said. “We can’t go.”

  “What?” Everyone at the table stopped celebrating and stared at her. “What are you talking about?” Gaby said.

  “My dream,” Alyssa said. “This explains everything. That white thing I saw flying at Chelsea’s head was a baseball!”

  “Oh, Alyssa,” Mandy said. “Don’t you think you’re taking this dream interpretation a little too far?”

  “But I have such a strong feeling about this,” Alyssa said. “If we go to that game, Chelsea will get hit in the head by a foul ball. She’ll probably be seriously hurt. Flashing red lights? Ambulance?”

  “We can’t go?” Priya said. “Are you sure?”

  Alyssa nodded. “Very sure.”

  “But—I want to go on the field trip,” Chelsea whined.

  “You’ll be taking a big risk if you do,” Alyssa said.

  “I don’t believe this,” Tori said.

  “Has the amethyst ever steered us wrong?” Sloan said.

  Everyone grew quiet. No one could deny that Amy the amethyst had an amazing record. Five straight predictions in a row.

  Chelsea frowned. “I guess I should listen to Alyssa, just to be on the safe side.”

  “I won’t go, either,” Sloan said. “I don’t dare defy the all-seeing wisdom of Amy.”

  “Do any of you want to go?” Mandy asked.

  Gaby raised her hand, but Chelsea knocked it down. No one else moved.

  “None of you?” Mandy said. “You all believe Alyssa’s dream will come true?”

  No one said a word.

  Mandy sighed. “Well, I’ll have to clear this with Dr. Steve, but if none of you go, then I can’t go. We’ll all stay here and weed the vegetable garden or something thrilling like that.”

  “Ohh,” the girls groaned. Even Alyssa had to admit that staying behind—even without the weeding—wasn’t as much fun as a real Major League baseball game.

  “I know,” Mandy said. “Dullsville. Well, the game is still a ways away. You have time to change your minds. I hope you’ll all come to your senses. But if you don’t, so be it. It’s your decision.”

  Breakfast was over. It was time for morning swim. Hardly anyone had finished her eggs. They all stared at Alyssa as they got up from the table. Some of them gazed at her in awe. Others glared in annoyance.

  “All I can say is, you better be right about this,” Chelsea said.

  “I am,” Alyssa said. She was sure of it.

  chapter SEVEN

  The Lakeview Tattler

  Bunk Roundup

  by Jordan

  Here at The Lakeview Tattler, we like to know what’s going on, and you can trust us to fill you in, day by day, bunk by bunk!

  First division: The intrepid boys of bunk 1D are learning to swim, and their coach tells me that by the end of the summer they’ll all have the crawl down perfectly. Some of the first-division girls are making a giant daisy chain to surprise their beloved counselor, Anita.

  Whoops! Guess I just spilled the beans. Sorry, girls! (Just kidding. They told me it was okay to spread the news. Anyone with extra daisies to spare—or any flower at all, even clover—is asked to contribute it to the girls’ cause. They’re running low. Just drop off your flowers at bunk 1C.)

  Bunk 3B is planning to raid bunk 3C for candy and good comic books. Keep your eyes open, 3C!

  The fifth-division girls have asked me to report that they are simultaneously the coolest and the hottest girls at camp this year, and all the other girls can go jump off the pier. So there! And bunk 6B: Watch your backs. 5C wants revenge for the obstacle course debacle. The swim relay was postponed, but they want you to reschedule, if you’re brave enough to take them on. They’re coming for you! And this time they want to make it interesting. The girls of 5C propose a bet: The team that loses the swim relay has to go to the Midsummer Dance in their swimsuits! An anonymous resident of 5C says, “We can’t wait to see those 6B girls dancing under the stars in their bathing suits! And we’re sure the rest of camp will think it’s funny, too.” We’ll see.

  In sixth-division news, my sources tell me there’s nothing to report. However, my colleagues here at The Lakeview Tattler think they’re hiding something. I’ve asked just about every girl in bunk 6B for news, and they all clam up like, well, clams. Surely there must be something happening in a bunk full of dynamic girls. Give it up, bunk 6B. What’s your secret?

  And campwide, the big news
is the surprise bonus field trip to the Mets Phillies game. Everybody’s talking about it, everybody’s very excited. Way awesome! Thanks, Dr. Steve! Who loves ya, baby?

  Got news? How about juicy gossip? We’re not picky! Tell it to us here at the newspaper office or—if you prefer to remain anonymous—drop us a note. Anything from arts and crafts projects to sports achievements to deadly vendettas welcome.

  “What a waste of paper,” Natalie said. She sat on the cool front porch of the lodge, reading the latest edition of The Lakeview Tattler. She tossed the paper in a recycling bin.

  “I don’t know about that.” Donovan, who Nat couldn’t help noticing was sitting at the other end of the long wooden bench, folded up his own copy of the paper. “You’re in bunk 6B, aren’t you? What’s the deal? Are you all hiding something?”

  Natalie, a terrible liar, immediately got nervous, and she knew it showed on her face. “What? No. What could we be hiding?”

  Don’t mention the amethyst. Don’t mention the amethyst, she reminded herself. She believed in Amy’s powers almost as much as Alyssa did. And the last thing she needed was to be cursed for life because she broke a superswear.

  “Well, something’s up,” Donovan said. “I know a few of your bunkmates, and if you ask me, you’re all giving off weird vibes. Not that I mind.”

  Natalie smiled and relaxed a bit. Was Donovan flirting with her? “My name’s Natalie, by the way.”

  “Donovan,” he said. As if she didn’t know. He fanned the folded newspaper in front of his face. “It’s so hot this summer. My bunk is an oven.”

  “Ours is hot, too,” Natalie said. “I thought it would be cooler here on the porch, but it’s not that cool.”

  “Maybe we’ll all wish we could go to the dance in our bathing suits,” Donovan said. “If it stays this hot.”

  Natalie smirked. “We’re going to win that relay. The 5C girls will be dancing in their swimsuits, not us.”

  “As long as somebody’s wearing bathing suits, I’ll be happy,” Donovan joked.

  An awkward silence settled over them as Natalie tried desperately to think of something else to say. This was the first time she’d gotten so close to Donovan, and she hadn’t expected to feel so flustered around him.

  “You know where it’s a lot cooler?” Donovan said. “Out on the lake.”

  Aha—an opening. Thank you, Donovan.

  “I bet it is,” Natalie said. “Wouldn’t it be nice to go for a sail?”

  “That’s a great idea,” Donovan said. “I’m pretty sure Hank’s still down at the dock, and I bet he’d let us use one of the boats. Let’s go for a sunset sail.”

  Natalie knew that she’d basically put this idea into Donovan’s head herself, but now that he’d officially asked her to sail with him, she hesitated. She was still unsure what was going on with Logan, but part of her hoped they’d get back together, at least for the summer. Still, he hadn’t exactly sought her out. In fact, she’d hardly seen him since the cookout. Once she saw him playing tetherball with his bunk of little kids, but when she called to him, he didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if he hadn’t heard her or if he was ignoring her for some reason.

  “It’s really beautiful out on the water this time of day,” Donovan said.

  Why not? She didn’t owe Logan anything. And it was just a sail. No big deal.

  “Sure,” Nat said. “I’d love it.”

  Donovan tramped down the path to the lake, Natalie beside him in her flip-flops. The camp was quiet, most of the campers resting before dinner. It was a hot afternoon, but clear and beautiful. The lake was calm—smooth and glassy. Just as Donovan had predicted, Hank, the sailing instructor, was busy repairing a torn sail.

  “Hey, Hank,” Donovan said. “Is it okay if we take a boat out for a spin?”

  “Sure,” Hank said. “I’ll keep an eye on you. Don’t stay out too long, though.”

  “We won’t.” Donovan led Nat to a Sunfish tied to the dock. “Hop aboard,” he said. She climbed on while he untied the dock rope. Then he set up the sails and in a few minutes the light breeze took them out onto the lake.

  “It really is cooler out here,” Natalie said.

  “Told you,” Donovan said. “Look out there.”

  Across the lake, to the west, the sun burned low through the pine trees. It glowed orange on the deep green water.

  “It’s beautiful,” Nat said. “This is so relaxing.”

  “I love sailing,” Donovan said. “No matter what’s bothering me on dry land, I forget all about it when I’m on the water. Unless the thing that’s bothering me is in the boat with me.”

  “What do you mean?” Natalie knew that Gaby was Donovan’s sailing partner. Was he saying she got on his nerves? Not that Nat blamed him.

  “It’s just, you know, I can lose my temper when I’m racing,” Donovan said. “And if my crew’s not doing her job, I get ticked off.”

  Yep, it was Gaby all right. Nat had a feeling Gaby was a very inept sailor. But she respected Donovan for not naming names.

  Donovan tacked, and the boat turned and glided across the water in the other direction. Now Natalie faced the dock. She thought she saw someone out there, standing on the end of the dock. The boat sailed closer, and the image became clearer. There was definitely someone standing there, and it wasn’t Hank. It was a boy. A boy with binoculars. A boy watching their boat through binoculars. Weird.

  “Ready to go in?” Donovan said. “It’s almost dinnertime.”

  “I’m ready,” Nat said. “This sure was nice.”

  “We should go for a moonlight sail soon,” Donovan said. “That’s even nicer.”

  Ooh, romantic, Nat thought. This Donovan guy sure knew how to make a girl swoon.

  As they pulled closer to the dock, Nat got a better look at the boy with the binoculars. It was Logan!

  What was he doing? Why was he watching her—with binoculars? Was he spying on her?

  “What’s this dude’s problem?” Donovan said. He’d noticed Logan, too. Logan backed away as the boat skimmed up to the dock. But he hovered nearby, as if waiting to talk to Natalie, or to see who she was with.

  Donovan tied the boat to the dock. Natalie, carrying her flip-flops, stepped off the boat onto the rough boards. Logan stepped forward. He seemed to want to talk to her.

  “Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here? Ow!” A pinprick of pain shot through her big toe. “Rats! I think I stepped on a splinter,” she said. She looked up at Logan, expecting him to come help her, or at least ask if she was okay. Instead, he went pale, as if he’d seen a ghost, and without a word he ran off.

  What a jerk, she thought. He didn’t even offer to help her!

  “Are you all right?” Donovan said. Natalie sat on the dock. Donovan took her foot in his hands and looked for the splinter. Now that was how a boy should behave.

  “It’s in my big toe,” she told him.

  “I see it.” Donovan pinched his fingernails together and plucked out the splinter. “Got it.” He showed her the tiny bit of wood. “Better?”

  “Thanks.” Nat was careful to put her flip-flops on before she stood up. “And thanks again for the sail.”

  “Any time,” Donovan said.

  They walked together to the mess hall, where they split up to sit with their bunks. Gaby glared at Nat when she saw her walk in with Donovan. Across the room, Nat spotted Logan, but his back was to the door and he didn’t see her.

  What’s his problem? she wondered. Why was he acting so strangely, watching her, then running away like that? It had to mean something, but what?

  “Did you see Donovan and Natalie tonight?” Chelsea asked Gaby. They were sitting on the lodge porch after dinner, eating Popsicles and hoping the night would cool off before bed. “They walked into the mess hall together.”

  “How could I miss it?” Gaby said. Donovan had been wearing his boating shoes. Conclusion: He must have taken Natalie sailing. The conclusion was confirmed when Natalie had sat down
at the sixth-division table and Alyssa had said, “What happened to you? I looked for you on the lodge porch, but you weren’t there.”

  “I went for a sunset sail,” Natalie had said. She didn’t say more, though she looked as if she had plenty more to say. Obviously she’d fill Alyssa in on all the details later. The whole scene made Gaby queasy.

  Since Natalie had apparently found Donovan on the porch earlier that day, Gaby decided to park there for the evening and see if he showed up again. No such luck.

  “Why her?” she said to Chelsea. “Why Natalie? Why Priya? Why not me?”

  “Why not you?” Chelsea said. “Why not me? What have I done wrong? I haven’t made a complete fool of myself in front of him like you have.”

  “Hey.” Gaby resented that. “Getting knocked into the water is a rite of passage in sailing. Candace told me. It happens to everyone.”

  “It’s hard to get him alone,” Chelsea said. “There always seems to be at least one girl hovering around.”

  “I keep trying to get his attention,” Gaby said. “And it keeps backfiring. I’m not giving up, though. I want Donovan to fall for me like a klutz on ice skates. Like he’s never fallen for anyone before.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Good luck with that. You’ve got a lot of competition. Though the klutz part sounds right.”

  “I have a new plan,” Gaby said. “I may not be able to get his attention with my sailing ability—”

  “Since you don’t have any,” Chelsea said.

  Gaby flashed her an annoyed look, but ignored the snarky comment since it was, technically, the truth. “I’ll get his attention by doing what I do best.”

  “And what, exactly, is that?”

  “I thought about it long and hard,” Gaby said. “And the thing I do best in the whole wide world is make chocolate peanut butter Rice Krispies treats.”

  “What an astounding talent,” Chelsea said. “That ought to blow his socks off.”

  “Well, boys like to eat,” Gaby said. “The way to the heart is through the stomach, and all that. It’s worth a try.”