Wordlessly, Heidi handed him the bag of Sour Gummi Worms we’d bought at the Bait ’n’ Bite.
“A pleasure doing business with you, ladies.” Rhys smiled as he shoved Drew’s new feathery pillow up his shirt and took the bag of worms. “I look forward to my next assignment.”
Rhys waddled stealthily out of the room, and Heidi shut the door behind him. “I still don’t like this.”
“Come on, Heidi, it’s just a couple feathers. And he probably made up that allergy anyway just to get a single. Most likely it won’t even do anything,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Cass, he didn’t make that up,” Amy scoffed. “Who would make that up? What a weird thing to lie about!”
“What if he is really allergic and his throat closes up?” Heidi had a genuinely concerned look on her face.
“What? No. I’m sure he’d move to a couch or something before it got that bad.” I waved my hand, dismissing Heidi’s concerns. I’d honestly never even thought about it, but it couldn’t be that serious, right? I ignored the nervous, guilty burble in my stomach. “It’s not that big of a deal. We’re just teaching him a lesson. A couple of teensy little lessons. Nobody’s gonna get hurt.”
“We’ll see.” Heidi sank grumpily to the floor.
“Think of it like … summer camp pranks. Totally innocent. Some summer fun!” I said it with all the enthusiasm I could muster, but enthusiasm’s just not my thing.
“I’ve decided on my terms,” Amy interrupted.
“What terms?” I asked. “We already started. The plan is in motion. Phase One is complete. It’s too late for terms.”
“You meet my terms, or I pull out.”
“Oh, wow, terms. That sounds complicated. We should probably just stop,” Heidi said hopefully.
“Fine, give me your terms.” I crossed my arms and glared.
“You’re helping me make the perfect boy, so I’m gonna help you get your perfect boy.” Amy smiled wickedly.
“What are you talking about?” I could feel a violent blush, bane of my redheaded existence, creeping up my neck.
“I’m talking about Taylor Griffith, Segunki Cabin.” Amy bounced to her feet. “Let’s go!”
“What, right now?” I asked, slightly panicky.
“What about curfew?” Heidi asked.
“What, are you chicken?” Amy challenged playfully. “Buk-buk-bakaw! Buk-buk-bakaw!”
“One, I am not chicken, and two, that sounds nothing like a chicken.”
“Don’t tell me you’re all talk and no game, Cass.” Amy poked me in the ribs.
“Oh, I’ve got the game,” I affirmed. “Isn’t it just kind of … desperate? Heading over there and chasing him?”
“Not desperate! Gutsy! Brave! Bold! Listen, Cass,” she said seriously. “You’re helping me be bold, and now I’m gonna help you. Bold moves!”
“Bold moves,” I agreed.
“Curfew?” Heidi asked again.
“We have a curfew?” I asked.
“It’s in the contract,” Amy said. “But who’s in charge of checking that anyway?”
“Langley,” Heidi answered.
“Right. And Langley’s not gonna turn us in. I don’t think she’s even older than us.” Amy stepped into her flip-flops.
“Me neither. And I think she’s on the see-no-evil-hear-no-evil managerial plan,” I said. “Plus, she never takes her iPod earbuds out long enough to hear any evil. Or curfew breaking.”
“Exactly!” Amy clapped her hands together with delight.
“What about your whole no-relationship thing?” Heidi asked.
“I’m not saying Cass needs to marry the guy.” Amy rolled her eyes. “She said no relationships, not no shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans?” I had a feeling Taylor Griffith was nothing but shenanigans.
“Shenanigans, Cass. You in?”
“I’m in.” I started pulling on my sneakers. I liked this new, bold Amy, and I certainly wasn’t about to wuss out in front of her. I noticed Heidi strapping on her sandals next to me. “You coming, too?”
“Someone has to keep an eye on the two of you,” Heidi said grumpily, but I could tell by the twinkle in her eye that there was more to it than that.
I guess we were technically sneaking out, but it was so easy it didn’t really feel very sneaky. Someone was watching Cool Runnings in the lounge, but aside from that, the place appeared deserted. It was totally silent apart from our quiet footsteps and the vague sounds of the Jamaican bobsled team fading away into the distance as we made our way down the stairs and out into the night.
“This door doesn’t lock, does it?” Heidi asked as she shut it very quietly, trying to minimize the creaking as much as humanly possible.
“Better not.” I shrugged. “Or we’re sleeping on the lawn.”
“I don’t think so, or they would have given us a key, right?” Amy theorized.
“Exactly. And why bother with a lock, anyway? This doesn’t appear to be a particularly high crime area,” I said as we crunched our way down the gravel driveway and onto the dirt road. “It’s not like they have to worry about someone breaking in to steal our collection of vintage life jackets.”
Amy giggled as Heidi strode confidently into the dark. I don’t know how she knew where she was going, because I couldn’t see anything. Once we’d left the small radius of the glow of the houselights, it was absolutely pitch-dark, and the ground was deceptively uneven.
“Eek!” Amy squealed. “I almost wiped out. How are you guys walking okay? I can’t see anything.”
“Me neither.” All I could see was overwhelming darkness. I studiously ignored a rustling sound in the bushes, refusing to even let the word “bear” enter my mind.
“This is ridiculous,” Amy muttered, rustled around, and then produced a small circle of artificial light. “Flashlight iPhone App,” she announced proudly.
“Genius,” I admired.
“If I was really a genius I’d have thought of it before we left,” Amy snorted in an amusingly un-Amy-like fashion.
“Are you guys coming, or what?” Heidi called out from somewhere in the darkness.
“How did she get so far ahead of us?” Amy marveled as she tilted her phone up to reveal the road ahead.
“I think she’s part gazelle.” I shrugged as we jogged to meet up with Heidi. “So, uh, who knows where we’re going?”
“Me! Straight up the road to Camp Dunmore,” Heidi said, pressing onward into the dark.
“It’s not that far,” Amy chimed in. “Didn’t you see the Lake Dunmore map in your Welcome Packet?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said vaguely. I’d skimmed that thing. Most of it, anyway.
Heidi led us up the dirt road, following the curve of the path along the lake. I made sure to stay in the faint circle glow of Amy’s cell phone. The closer we got, the more Amy kept giggling uncontrollably. I couldn’t blame her. There was something dangerously fun about feeling like we were breaking the rules, sneaking out into the night. Although, I guess, technically we were breaking the rules. Like Scarlett O’Hara, I had a feeling that I was the kind of criminal who would feel worse about getting caught than about committing the crime. Which maybe wasn’t such a great character trait, but hey, at least I was self-aware.
Heidi turned abruptly to the left, away from the lake and into the woods.
“Is this Camp Dunmore?” I asked.
“Think so.” Amy tilted her phone upward and revealed what looked like a wooden archway with letters on top. We walked through the archway and into the woods, now following a much smaller path, riddled with stones and roots.
“What if everyone’s asleep?” I asked nervously, the full realization of what we were doing finally hitting me. “What if we find Segunki Cabin and it’s totally dark and no one’s there and then we just look like huge losers?”
“Oh my God, Cass, chill out,” Amy giggled. “It’s, like, ten-thirty. No one’s asleep. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were n
er-vous about seeing Tay-lor,” she sing-songed.
“Please,” I snorted. “I hope you know me better than that by now.”
“I’m starting to think I know you better than you know yourself,” she laughed.
“I’m starting to think I found the cabin,” Heidi said.
I peered ahead. In the middle of the woods, there was one cabin with lights burning brightly in every small window, a faint hum of thumping bass emanating from within.
“Well, they’re definitely not asleep. It’s go time,” Amy said, grinning, as she pushed her way in front, sprinting up to the cabin. Heidi and I jogged to catch up with her. The minute we hit the front porch, the door swung open.
CHAPTER 10
Heeeeeeey, my ladies!”
A buff shirtless guy in dangerously low-riding track pants pushed the door open, a red plastic cup clutched in his free hand. A riot of noise and light poured out into the quiet Vermont darkness. The three of us exchanged glances.
“This way to paradise, Betties!” he proclaimed, and turned around, walking back into the cabin. “JJ” was scrawled in permanent marker on his back.
“And this must be JJ,” I murmured. “What a clever way to save time on introductions.”
“Too bad I left my marker at home,” Amy sighed.
We followed him in. I was pretty sure it was the same guy who had been shirtless at the Bait ’n’ Bite. Did he even own a shirt?
Inside, the place was packed with guys in hoodies and littered with empty beer bottles and crushed red plastic cups. The music was so loud it drowned out all conversations; I could see peoples’ mouths moving and hands gesticulating, but couldn’t hear anything. The floorboards vibrated pleasantly under my feet with the thump of the bass.
“You guys, volumes this loud can cause permanent damage to the inner ears,” Heidi said, wincing. “It could ruin our ability to match pitch.”
“Lighten up, Grandma,” Amy joked, jostling Heidi in the ribs.
“Who is this, anyway?” I asked.
“It’s CKY.” Taylor Griffith had emerged seemingly out of nowhere to answer my question. “Camp Kill Yourself,” he elaborated.
“Clever,” I approved. “Very thematic. Is that your general attitude towards Camp Dunmore?”
“Usually.” He leaned in conspiratorially, until I could feel his breath tickling my neck. “For some reason, I feel a lot more like living tonight.”
“Oh God.” I rolled my eyes. “Is this your usual level of cheesiness? Or do you feel less need to try because we’re in the backwoods of Vermont?”
“Could this be? The Bowser himself? Schralped again by the sickest Betty in this godforsaken state!” JJ crowed, pounding his bare chest like Tarzan. “If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it! Bow-ow-owwww!”
Heidi raised her eyebrows at the dog howls. I could tell she was not impressed.
“Smooth, JJ,” Taylor said, as JJ gulped his beer and busted out a resounding belch.
“Don’t tell me the girls in L.A. fall for that shit.” I poked him playfully in the chest. It was solid as a rock.
“Actually, they usually do.” He straightened, and I thought I might have seen a gleam of admiration in his eyes. “How did you know I was from L.A.?”
“Aren’t all skaters from L.A.? All the real ones, anyway. Not the ones sliding down the bike rails in the Shop Rite parking lot.”
He laughed. “Gotta start somewhere, yeah? That’s where I used to be.”
Amy coughed discreetly.
“Oh, Taylor, you remember Amy, right?” I said.
He nodded, as Ragner the Norwegian possible-prince zoomed to Amy’s side, raised her hand, and kissed it.
“Vi møtes igjen, Prinsesse,” he murmured, as Amy blushed. If Ragner the pretend-prince kept this up, we might end up scrapping this whole Drew scheme. Although I would certainly miss the opportunity to spend several weeks torturing Drew. Maybe I could even make him cry. Wouldn’t that be a beautiful sight?
“And this is Heidi.” I dragged her into our circle. She was looking extremely uncomfortable and in danger of edging toward the door.
“It really is Charlie’s Angels.” Taylor smiled, and I couldn’t help but notice the nice way his eyes crinkled.
“Access to some kind of secret Betty stockpile. I like it!” JJ yelled from across the room as he vigorously pumped a keg, refilling his cup.
“Lemme introduce you to the guys, new Betty,” Taylor said, addressing Heidi. “I’m Taylor. We’ve got JJ, Ragner, Skittles, Ferret, and Thiago.” Taylor looked around. “I guess Thiago’s still out back playing Stump.”
“Who are all these other people?” I asked.
“Sheep and yoinkers.” He shrugged. “Who the hell knows? Locals. Guys who help out with camp, run the skate shop, that kind of shit.”
When he said guys, he meant it. I looked around the room and realized we were the only girls there.
From the corner of the room, Ferret walked toward Heidi, like a moth drawn to a flame. She turned and walked toward him with the same purpose, until I realized it wasn’t Ferret himself she was seeking out. It was the creature draped around his neck. Heidi seemed far more enamored of the actual ferret than of the human who shared his name. The ferret deserted his owner and began blissfully twining himself around Heidi’s neck as she stroked his tiny furry head, whispering sweet nothings into his little ferret ears. Ferret pushed his dreads back to get a better look and continued staring at Heidi with awe.
“May I get you ladies some liquid refreshment?” JJ asked. “Refreshment of the beer kind?”
“I never put toxins in my body,” Heidi declared emphatically, stroking the ferret tenderly. Human Ferret stared at her for a solid minute, then bolted toward the kitchen. Maybe her beauty had overwhelmed him or something.
“Here, Cass, lemme grab you a beer,” Taylor said as he walked off to the fridge.
“Cass,” Amy whispered, “we’re not supposed to drink.”
“Well, duh. We’re underage. It’s against the law.”
“No, I don’t mean legally.” She shook her head. “Did you read anything in the Welcome Packet? Drinking at SAD is a fireable offense. And the SAD directors reserve the right to randomly administer breathalyzers and drug tests.”
“You seriously think Lola St. Clair has a breathalyzer lying around?” I asked skeptically. “She can’t even be bothered to show up for rehearsal, let alone administer a random drug test. Are we entirely certain she still exists?”
“Oh, please. She exists, Cass. She just hasn’t been particularly, well, present. And breathalyzer or not, better safe than sorry. This party is so not worth getting fired for.” Amy flipped her hair dismissively. “They don’t even have stuff for making cocktails. I should show them how we do it in Beaver Falls.”
I had a feeling Amy had been way more into the party scene at her high school than I had been at mine. The drama dorks at Weehawken High had occupied the social rung only slightly above the Mathletes, AV nerds, and chess club kids. Consequently, I spent most of my weekends watching Rocky Horror in someone’s basement while eating SmartPop. Yes, it was a thrilling existence.
At that moment, Ferret returned with what appeared to be, somewhat improbably, a steaming hot mug of green tea. Heidi sipped it appreciatively as the ferret nuzzled her cheek.
“It’s my favorite brew,” he explained. “It’s sencha, which is a Japanese green tea, specifically one that’s made—”
“Without grinding the tea leaves!” They finished the sentence in unison, grinning at each other.
“Sencha’s one of my favorites, too,” Heidi agreed warmly. “If I had to only pick one tea, though, I’d have to say I’m an oolong girl—I tend to prefer the Chinese teas. But there’s just something about a nice sencha.”
“It’s mellow, you know?” Ferret and Heidi were nodding at each other, smiling broadly. Amy and I exchanged glances. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in you
r philosophy. Like Hamlet said, life was weird.
“Here, Cass,” Tyler said, handing me a cold beer bottle, cap already off. “I got you one of the good ones,” he added with a wink.
I accepted it and took a sip. A small sip. Definitely not enough to show up on any impromptu breathalyzer. Still, I did my best to avoid Amy and Heidi’s disapproving looks. I’d already broken more rules in a couple days at Lake Dunmore than I had in my entire high school career. I felt somehow simultaneously exhilarated and extremely uncomfortable.
“You want, blondest Betty?” JJ asked, holding out a red cup.
“No, thanks,” Amy said disdainfully, flicking her eyes toward the cup. “That’ll just slow me down. Who’s in charge of the music around here?”
Ragner executed a small bow and led her over to an end table that held a lamp, an iPod docking station, and a mountain of empty Doritos bags.
“So, are we the only girls you could convince to show up?” I asked. “Why are there only guys here?”
“Well, we scoped out the town, and we’re not so much into the barrels. And if you ignore the jailbait, it’s like a fucking barrel shop out there,” JJ moaned dramatically.
“I haven’t seen any barrels,” Amy said quizzically as she started scrolling through the music on her iTunes. “Oh, wait. Do you mean the pickle barrel at the Bait ’n’ Bite?”
“I don’t think they mean literal barrels.” I cocked my head, thinking. Because that would be crazy. “What’s a barrel?”
“You know.” JJ puffed out his cheeks and stomach, and started waddling around, miming something.
“Penguin?” Amy guessed as she put her iPhone into the docking station. “Santa! Fat Santa! Fat people?” she finished, a question in the arch of her eyebrow.
“Wait a minute. There’s no other girls here because you thought they were too … fat?” I asked, appalled.
“That is—that is horrible,” Heidi sputtered. “The pressure on female body image in this country—the impossible standards of modern media—”
“Not just fatties. Also jailbait,” JJ added helpfully. “You Betties are all eighteen, right?”
“Stop being a chode, man.” Taylor rolled his eyes at JJ. “C’mon, let me show you out back, Cass. Sick view.”
The Taming of the Drew Page 9