by Jen Calonita
"I knew my mom probably wasn't going to be able to make it so I'm okay," I explained to Hitch.
He nodded. "I know she really wanted to come see you."
This was awkward. Me talking to my mom's potential boyfriend who happened to be my camp director. Weird! I had to get out of here. "I should get changed," I said, pointing to my pants.
Hitch blushed. "Absolutely, talk to you later," he said.
I ran all the way back to the cabin to save time and when I arrived, my PJs were dry, but pretty sticky. (It was THAT hot out.) I fumbled through my trunk for my backpack and unzipped it to get to my camera. I was moving so quickly I practically dropped the tape as I tried to jam it in the recorder. I pressed play and waited anxiously. The first thing I saw was Mal.
She was sitting in her backyard on a lounge chair, wearing her big faux Chanel sunglasses and she was wearing the Donna Karan black bikini we found at TJ Maxx back in April that would have made me look huge, but looked perfect on her. Her long, dark brown hair was soft and sort of curly at the ends, and her tan had deepened to a bronze. She waved to the camera.
"HI, SAMMIE! I MISSSSSSS YOU!" She yelled. "CP just isn't the same without you. I ran into Mrs. Gisondi in Waldbaum's and she says hi. So does Mrs. Macario. I told them we didn't like English class as much this year without them. Piper, Bridget, and Ivy send their love and said thanks for the postcards."
I breathed a sigh of relief. I guess the others had forgotten I even said I'd send them tapes. Which made me stop and think -- was it them who suggested I send them videos or was it me being me, agreeing to do too much without thinking things through?
"I'm dying of boredom around here," Mal continued. "If it wasn't for Mark and the Mineola Pool I would be completely lonely..." Mal told me about our friend Piper's new boyfriend, and a funny story about our friend Audrey's summer job. She talked about her annoying little brother and how her parents gave her a later curfew for the summer. I was feeling homesick until she said something that made me flinch.
"So like I was saying, it's really boring here so thank God for your tapes," Mal said and then made a nervous face I recognized. It was the one she used anytime she had screwed up. "It's just that... um... don't be mad, but I'm not sure... it's just... I don't think I'm going to have time to make another one. I want to! It's just, well, I'm so busy with Mark that I don't have a moment to myself."
Wait. Didn't she just finish saying she was bored? How could she not have time to make any more tapes? It got worse.
"I even had to have Mark tape this video for me," Mal confessed, anxiously. "Mark, put the camera down and come say hi to Sam," she instructed her off-camera boyfriend.
What? Allowing boys or anyone else to watch or view our transmissions was strictly prohibited in our video code.
The camera view shook for a moment and I heard Mark place it on what must be the patio table. He walked around the camera and sat at the edge of Mal's lounge chair. He looked the same. Tall, rail thin, with almost shoulder-length thick brown hair and a tattoo of a pirate on his right arm that he always showed off proudly. He was one of the few guys at our school who actually had one. Mark seemed to think it made him a bad-ass. He swung Mal up and she squealed as she jumped on his lap. I rolled my eyes. I hated how gushy Mal was when she was with Mark.
"Hey, Samantha," Mark said. He's probably the only person my age I know who calls me by my full name. "Mal told me you've got your eye on some guys there. Come home with a boyfriend so we can finally double date, okay?" The two of them laughed and I cringed.
Mal broke both video rules? She let him video her message and told him what I said in mine? Mark knew all of my fears about camp, my gushing about Hunter and my last confessional about liking Cole? How could she do that to me?
"Sam, please, please pick Hunter. He sounds beyond hot," Mal seconded.
"Baby, are you saying someone is hotter than me?" Mark cooed.
I rolled my eyes again.
"No one is hotter than you," Mal baby talked back to him. Then the two of them started kissing.
I fast-forwarded a few seconds till Mal finally came up for air and spoke again. "Sorry about that, Sam," she giggled. "I'll try to call you soon. I miss you and I'm sorry for my lack of tapes. I'll try my hardest to send you another one, but I'm not sure if/when I can. I can't wait for your next video though! I like hearing what you're up to. Oh! And before I forget, I wanted to tell you that I don't think we should try out for cheerleading this fall. I think we should do kickline instead. Mark says the routines are hotter. I'm also thinking we should try out for the school play instead of doing chorus. I'll talk to you about it when you get back. Have a great summer!"
The screen faded to fuzz. I looked at my watch. FOUR MINUTES? That's how long the tape was? Just four minutes? My tapes were each at least thirty minutes long and I had already sent two!
I pulled the tape out of my palmcorder and threw it in the bottom of my trunk.
Mal was in for a rude awakening if she thought I was sending her another tape anytime soon. I had better things to do with my summer than just please her. Leaving my friends and becoming a CIT was the first independent thing I had done in a long time, and yet instead of embracing it, I'd been spending all my time worrying about my friends back home. Enough was enough. I had to make time for me and my new life.
"Hey!" The door to the cabin slammed shut. Court was the first one back from breakfast. We had chores and a bunk inspection before our first period. She frowned when she saw me. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I said. "I'm just really glad I'm here."
10 The First Meeting of the Sleepaway Girls
The first thing I noticed was a bright light in my face. It was kind of hard to miss.
"Are you awake?" Court whispered. She'd climbed onto my bed and was leaning over me with a flashlight that was practically burning my eyeballs.
"Yes," I told her, even though I was actually falling asleep. Meg was at her "counselors' meeting" (or more likely hanging out at the counselors' lounge AFTER her meeting. She generally didn't check in on us on Wednesday nights) and lights-out was supposed to be at eleven. I knew we were sneaking out at 11:30, but I had drifted off.
I threw back my covers and pulled off my pajama pants and top (I had kept my real clothes on underneath). My hands were shaking as I did it. I'd never snuck out of the bunk at night, but Court, Em, and even Grace looked like pros. The girls were dressed and waiting by the cabin door. The only sound I could hear was Em using her inhaler. I winced. Just the thought of Ashley and Gabby waking up and seeing the rest of us gone made me want to throw up.
I grabbed my backpack with my recorder, and walked briskly to the door. The four of us managed to get through the screen door without it making a single squeak. Once we were several yards away from the cabin, Court let out a small squeal.
"I told you that would be a piece of cake!" she said. It was so dark it was hard to see her.
I still wasn't used to getting around camp at night. There were lights on the paths and the buildings, but it was still pitch black. While the camp was inviting and fun during the day, at night it reminded me of a horror movie. Sure, there were counselors on patrol, but I still had never run into one. The place was eerily quiet, except for the sounds of crickets or the occasional owl. When it was breezy and the wind blew a few dead leaves across the dirt paths, I always jumped. A wolf could sneak up on you and you wouldn't have a chance. Suddenly I heard a noise and gripped what I hoped was Grace's arm.
"Would you stop worrying about the wolves!" she admonished. "I told you I've never seen a wolf here."
"Even if there are no wolves, there are counselors roaming about," Em warned. "I'm sure they're all at the counselor lounge, but we should move quickly if we don't want to bump into one of them."
"What happens if Ashley and Gabby wake up and see we're missing?" I asked.
"They won't wake up," Court said firmly. "And if they do, I have something over on them -- I was awake wh
en they snuck out on Monday night and I didn't say anything. If they tell on us, then we tell on them."
A little blackmail never hurt anyone, I guess. "So where are we going?" I wanted to know. "It's kind of dark to record here."
"That's why we're going to the mess hall," Court said matter-of-factly.
"The mess hall?" I squeaked. My voice bounced off the nearby buildings.
"Keep your voice down," Grace hissed.
"It's the safest place to go," Court explained. "It's not like anyone is there at night and besides, we can get a snack."
"I wouldn't do it if I thought we would get caught," Grace assured me.
That was true. Grace was like the model Pines camper.
Ten minutes later, after we were safely inside and had closed the blinds in the kitchen, I pulled out my recorder. The mess hall was equally eerie at night. The hum of the refrigerators put me at ease, but it was strange seeing the kitchen look so neat and tidy when I knew for a fact it looked anything but during food service. We decided to hang out in the kitchen rather than the mess hall table area because that had too many windows and we had turned on two of the lights so that we could see. We were sitting on one of the stainless steel tables eating popcorn, some leftover cake from the Fourth of July -- it was sort of soggy at this point -- and apple slices Em had found in the refrigerator. Court had turned on the radio they kept in the kitchen and was playing it low. I was still a little freaked out about being in here, but I tried to relax.
"Do you think we should have snuck over to Hitch's place first to tape him on the phone with your mom?" Court asked. Everyone laughed.
I groaned. When I had made my weekly phone call to Mom from the main office yesterday, she had broken the news that she and Hitch were trying to find a way to go on a real date. She wasn't sure if Hitch was going to come down to Long Island on a day off or if Mom was going to drive up here. "Between Mal's lousy tape and my mom admitting she and Hitch were trying to plan a proper date, it's been some week and it's only Wednesday."
"I think it's kind of sweet," said Em. "The idea of people the age of Hitch and your mom finding love again is rare. Even in my romance novels."
"Em, it's not sweet if I have to move to the boonies and I'm stuck with Ashley as my stepsister," I moaned.
Em picked up the recorder and was examining it. "What about Mal? Have you made another video for her to tell her how you feel?"
I shook my head. "I'm not really in the mood."
Court grinned. "Good! So let's get started with our video then. How do we do this?" she asked and swiped the camera from Em.
"I'm not really sure," I admitted. "I've never taped anyone other than myself before."
"Maybe we should just say what's on our minds," Em suggested.
I picked up the recorder and pressed record. Then we just sat there staring at each other.
"I feel weird," Grace said and laughed nervously.
"Me too," admitted Em.
"Maybe it would help if we asked each other some questions to loosen the mood," suggested Court. She looked at Grace with a serious expression. "So Grace, how are your CIT duties going?"
Grace perked right up. "Excellent. I love having marshmallows. They're so mature. I mean, when they're not fighting over which Jonas Brother is hotter or what the it-song of summer is." She grinned. "I like working with Colleen. She's really taught me how to give each kid individual attention."
"That's so important," interrupted Em and I focused on her. "Even with the peeps. I find they function better when I give them all one-on-one time, whether it's working on a craft or just helping them write a letter to their parents. Speaking of which, I still have a few who are pretty homesick."
"Me too," I said and Court grabbed the camera from me. We were going to have some shaky camera angles with all the moving around. "I have this one little girl, Serena, who Alexis says still cries herself to sleep at night. Poor thing. I had her tape her family's photo to the wall behind her bed so she could see them at night."
"That was smart," Grace said admiringly as Em trained the video on her. We seemed to be getting the hang of the taping thing and everyone looked more relaxed. Every time someone new spoke, another person grabbed the camera. "Is it working?"
"Sort of," I said. "I just wish I could do something more for her. At this point she should be having fun, not worrying about home, but then again six is young to sleep away for a summer."
"It helps build character," Court said defensively. "Seriously, my parents used to ship my brother and me away to California for a month every summer from the time I was five to stay with my grandparents."
"Whoa," said Em. "You didn't cry?"
"Nope," Court said. "I liked it. And besides, that's what they've done every summer since. That's the real reason they send me to camp, you know. They send me to Pines and my brother to a music camp, and then they're off to Europe or wherever without us. They like it better that way. I, on the other hand, wish I could see Europe, or go on a month-long cruise, with them. I've hinted, but they always say I'm better off at camp." She looked suddenly sad.
"Court, that's awful," Em said.
"I'm used to it," Court said with a small smile. "There are benefits to having parents who are MIA all summer while you're at camp. When I get in trouble, Hitch can never find them."
"I have a little girl in my bunk that I think wants to get in trouble just so she can go home," Em admitted. "I feel so bad for her."
"I have this one little girl, Mackenzie, who seems to like being away," I told the rest of them. "Even though she has those allergy shots every day, she loves being with the bunk and doing activities. I shouldn't admit this, but she's sort of my favorite. She has this tiny voice, and big eyes, and she always wants to hold my hand and asks me cute questions like 'Why does thunder have to be so loud?' She's adorable."
"Don't let Alexis hear you say that," Grace warned. "We're not supposed to show favorites."
"I don't," I said quickly. "I guess I feel responsible for her in some way since I'm the one who takes her for those allergy shots. I'm not the one who keeps her from crying though. That's Cole. He always manages to make her smile."
"Aww," Em said. "You really like him, don't you?" She grabbed the camera and started taping me.
Suddenly I was the one who was nervous. I wasn't used to someone else taping me talking about something this important. I taped myself. And retaped myself. That way I could edit out anything I said that I hated. This time I couldn't edit. I had to be totally honest with my friends, and myself, in one take. I took a bunch of apple slices and started shoving them in my mouth. "I do like him, but it's complicated," I mumbled.
"Swallow," Em instructed me.
"I've told you guys this," I lamented. "I feel weird telling Cole I like him because of the Hunter thing. He used to tease me about Hunter all the time. I don't want him to think he's taking second place to Hunter. If I had paid attention to all the signs maybe I would have realized Cole was the one from the beginning. The more time I spend with him, the more I find his sort of flirty, sort of cranky attitude appealing. And now I can barely speak in front of him," I admitted.
"I'm so relieved you don't like Hunter," Grace said. "But that aside, I think with Cole you just have to get back to being Sam and Cole, the way you were before you had the crush. You can't have a relationship with a guy you're always intimidated by."
"I know," I moaned. "It's just that I've never been good at talking to guys. Mal was good at that. I don't know how to let Cole know I like him as more than a friend."
"I think we need a flirting course from Court," suggested Em.
"Step one is to actually act interested," Court explained. "You three always clam up when boys talk to us. Laugh! Flirt. It won't kill you."
"What's flirting?" Em joked.
"You guys have to start acting like you want these guys to like you back," Court told us. "That's what I do with Donovan."
"But what if guys have never seen u
s as girlfriend material?" Grace asked pensively. She took a handful of apple slices and dipped them in a caramel sauce she had found in the fridge. I wondered if anyone was going to notice food was missing. "It's fun being the girl everyone wants on their team, or the first one picked for Color War challenges. I've wanted to be Color War captain since I was six, and this is the year it could happen. It means a lot to me, but sometimes I wish certain people would see me as more than just a potential captain, or the best freestyle swimmer at this camp," Grace said quietly. "The guys here want to be my teammate. I'm always just the friend and I hate that."
We were quiet for a moment. I knew Grace loved sports, and she couldn't stop talking about Color War. It sounded liked some sort of school field day amped up and held over several days. The camp was broken up into several teams and each team had a color. People took it pretty seriously, I was told. Close-knit bunks were known to have huge fights with each other if they wound up on opposite teams. Grace lived for it, apparently. But I wasn't used to hearing Grace admit there was something she wasn't good at -- even if it was boys, something I was terrible with as well.
"Did you ever think guys are intimated by you?" Em asked. I grabbed the camera and turned it toward her. "You know, because you're so good at everything you do? Maybe guys think they can't compete with that."
"I'm not going to apologize for being good at sports," Grace pointed out.
"And essays, and being a CIT, and everything else," Court added. "Boys get nervous around girls who can do it all and who are as confident as you, just like we get nervous around so-called 'perfect' guys. I'm not saying you should change who you are, I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt to admit you're not perfect at everything you do. If you miss a goal during a soccer game, don't say, 'Oh, I could have gotten that, but the wind pushed the ball.' Guys appreciate honesty. I'm sure Tim would."