Not hearing any sound from Courtney’s bunk, Riya shimmied down the ladder. She reached a foot to the ground and hit something sooner than expected. It rocked under her toe, then settled. She wrenched her neck around to peer at it.
Little plastic cups littered the floor around her bed. They stretched seven feet in any direction and were half filled with a dark liquid. Close to her bed, the cups were spaced too closely for Riya to slip a foot in between them.
Strange shapes lay below the cups. Riya squinted. As her eyes adjusted, she recognized her clothing. Every piece of clothing in her dresser had been spread flat across the floor before the cups were placed. So if she messed up and knocked one over, whatever was in the cup would stain her clothes.
Pure evil.
Courtney’s bed was empty. Riya looked around, but the tall blonde did not emerge from any shadows.
Riya slid onto Courtney’s mattress easily. The scent of rose petals wafted up from her sheets and pillow. Riya lay flat on her stomach and picked up a cup, bringing it to her face and sniffing. A sugary, fruity scent greeted her.
She sloshed the red liquid around the cup until inspiration struck. She scooted to the head of the bed and poured the liquid from the cup in her hand into another one until it was full. There was still a small amount left in the cup, so she poured that into another cup. She smiled.
“Should’ve filled them all the way up,” she murmured. Though how Courtney had placed so many cups in the dark without waking anyone, Riya could not imagine. How early had she gotten up? Had she slept at all?
Riya worked slowly, pouring three cups from the foot of the bed into four cups near the head. She carved a foot-wide path into the maze until she couldn’t reach out far enough to grab another cup.
Carefully, focusing on every movement, she stepped down into the hole she’d made and squatted. She continued clearing a path in front of her, pouring the liquid into cups on each side.
When she’d finally reached the edge of the cups, she pumped both fists into the air, resisting the urge to cheer. Around her, campers still slept, but a soft giggle sounded from the bathroom area.
“Courtney?” Riya whispered.
The girl’s willowy frame sauntered toward her. She just stood there, arms crossed, as Riya finished cleaning up the mess.
“Hurry up and change so we can head out,” Courtney said.
Riya changed, and they walked out the cabin door thirty minutes late. Clouds obscured the sun’s position low in the eastern sky.
“You kinda pranked yourself, too, with this one,” Riya pointed out.
Courtney shrugged. “Worth it. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t spill anything, though. I thought for sure…” She trailed off.
It was the most she’d said to Riya in four days. Luckily, there was so much at camp to distract her from Courtney’s aggressive brand of frigidity that she’d barely noticed the chill in the air every time they had to share the same space.
A thinning mist danced across the lake’s glass surface. They walked past the other girls’ cabin in uncompanionable silence. The camp was so quiet at this hour it was easy to pretend they were the only two there.
Their sustained muteness weighed heavily on Riya, until the pressure finally pushed words out of her mouth.
“Courtney,” Riya began, voice cracking. “Thanks for the other day. Arguing with Becky on my behalf.”
Another shrug. “It worked out for me.”
“It reminded me of that one time, at the mall, with the boy from my school.” Riya released the smallest of chuckles. “Remember?”
Riya heard a puff of breath that could have been a laugh and took it as encouragement.
“I think he might have peed his pants, he was so scared of you.” Riya laughed.
Courtney hadn’t raised her voice—she never did—or threatened him, just calmly detailed everything that would happen to him in prison after her parents sued him for harassment.
Riya risked a glance at Courtney and discovered her lips twisted, trying to contain a smile.
“He ran away and knocked all the bags out of that man’s hand,” Riya said, pausing between words to stifle her giggles.
Courtney burst out laughing. “Mr. Baskwill,” she mocked. Her laugh sounded high and clear in the cool mountain air.
The man had turned out to be their principal, shopping with his wife.
Courtney leaned forward, doubling over with laughter. “Oh, he deserved it, though. Calling someone the ‘r’ word is just wrong, especially when it’s my—” Courtney sobered abruptly. “My friend.”
A pang of regret traveled from Riya’s stomach outward into every limb. In her head, there were two Courtneys, and she couldn’t reconcile the disparities. Which one was real? The one who’d defended her as a kid and argued on her behalf yesterday and laughed with her ten seconds ago? Or the one who left her hanging in a tree with a broken heart and now acted like she could not care an ounce less? Riya didn’t even know if it was worth it to find out the answer.
“Do you want to go to Penn State?” Courtney asked, gesturing to Riya’s T-shirt. It was heather gray with penn state emblazoned in dark blue.
Riya stared down at her shirt, which she’d grabbed blindly from the pile of clothes she’d scooped off the floor into her dresser. She suppressed the surge of hope and excitement that welled up at the sight of the bold letters with practiced constraint. “I guess.”
Courtney turned to look at her. Her blue eyes looked gray in the cloud-filtered sunlight. “You don’t sound very sure.”
“I mean,” Riya began, clasping her hands together behind her back to keep herself from fidgeting. “I’d love to go there. I’ve talked to their coach. But I have to go where I can get a scholarship, and they may not want me enough.”
“Why the hell not?” Courtney’s words were defensive, but her tone was soft.
“They’re consistently one of the top ten teams in the NCAA, and they have great academics. They can take their pick of setters.” She’d been so careful the past year to not get her hopes up.
Shaking her head, Courtney frowned, then sighed.
“What?”
“You sell yourself too short. You always have.” She tugged on her high ponytail, then wrapped the long strands around her hand. “Never mind.”
“You have no idea how good—or not—I am at volleyball. You haven’t so much as said a word to me in four years.” Riya felt the uneasy warmth of a flush creeping up her cheeks.
“I’ve been watching the games here, remember?” Courtney said.
As if Riya could forget Courtney lying out next to the court every other day sporting the skimpiest bikinis the camp would allow.
Riya squeezed her hands together. “Those games are…recreational, at best.”
“You got that scholarship, so you must be good.” Courtney’s words came quick and low. “You always get whatever you decide you want. Plus, you’re good at everything.”
Riya already had her rebuttal prepared, but Courtney’s last statement halted her words. Good at everything? “I am not good at everything. Hardly anything. I can’t even use the bathroom without giving myself a bruise.”
Courtney laughed a brisk, tight laugh. She pointed to her right, where the short path leading to the volleyball court lay. “All I’m saying is, if you decide you want it enough, you’ll find a way to make it yours.” She paused. “Talk to you tomorrow morning.”
Riya stood there for a couple of seconds, watching Courtney jog the short rest of the way to the arts hut. She glanced down at the logo on her T-shirt, then back at Courtney, then back at her shirt. A ghost of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth before she shook her head to dispel it, reminding herself whom she was dealing with. One minute of conversation didn’t make up for years of iciness. And it didn’t change the fact that Courtney was now a seasoned heartbreaker who felt nothing for her.
Riya wiped away the last remnants of her smile and turned away, jogging to the voll
eyball court.
Colt and Trey stood outside the cafeteria when Riya walked up with the rest of her bunk.
“Good morning, ladies,” Trey said, before turning his full attention on Riya. “How are you liking Pine Ridge so far?”
His mess of curls flopped unevenly to one side, shading half of his face so that one eye looked golden in the morning sun and the other looked brown.
She smiled at him. “Can’t complain.”
“Yeah.” His smile had a weight to it. “Me neither.”
He walked her to her table, lingering to chat. Riya kept one eye on the door, half hoping Courtney would walk in and catch them flirting. Riya wanted Courtney to see how happy she could be without her. But breakfast was starting. Becky gave Trey some serious side-eye, so he retreated to his table. Courtney still hadn’t arrived.
Riya had already taken several bites of her amazing blueberry French toast casserole when Courtney finally strolled through the door of the cafeteria. She’d slipped a roomy lavender dolman sweater over her tights. The flush on her cheeks was natural, but the long, fluttering lashes had a little help from mascara. While everyone around her lumbered through the room like zombies, she moved with a supreme grace, like she floated across the floor instead of walked.
She slid easily into the seat her friends had saved for her on the other side of the table without even glancing at Riya.
Once again too chipper for the morning, Becky was running through the day’s upcoming activity schedule.
“And tonight’s activity is one of my personal favorites,” Becky gushed, pausing to squeeze her shoulders together and give them an open-mouthed smile. “Capture the flag!”
At their tables, the ten- to eleven-year-old crowd cheered at hearing the same news. Riya thought it could be fun, but then she caught the expressions on her tablemates’ faces.
“Why do you guys look like she just told us we’re going to square dance tonight?” Riya asked.
“Square dancing would be more fun,” Elise said, and Riya couldn’t tell if she actually thought square dancing would be fun or if she hated capture the flag that much.
“They don’t separate out the age groups,” Tiffany explained. “And the younger kids run around screaming with no strategy or game plan. The teams are too big. It’s chaos.”
Stefanie nodded in agreement. “Last year we tried to leave to play cards, but the counselors guilted us into staying.”
“But they always have good snacks on Capture the Flag night,” Elise pointed out.
On the walk back to their cabin, Riya told her friends about Courtney’s prank.
“Oh, the bug juice prank!” Elise exclaimed. “I always thought that one was fun until I realized how wasteful it is, with all those plastic cups.”
“So what’s next?” Tiffany asked.
“I’ve got some ideas,” Dee offered.
“Don’t you worry,” Riya said. “I’ve got one all ready for her. Just don’t get up early to use the bathroom tomorrow morning, okay?”
The girls giggled.
“I knew the moment we met, you’d fit right in,” Dee said, slapping Riya on the back.
Riya couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. It’d only been a week at camp, but Riya’d never had a group of friends like these girls at any of her schools. Of course she’d had friends before—she wasn’t entirely incapable of talking to people, just mostly—but not like this. Not the kind of friends you know have your back, no matter what. Not the kind of friends she’d miss when she moved on again.
…
Dewey, the pool lifeguard, blew the whistle signaling the end of the swimming session. Lunch time, finally. Courtney’s stomach growled with impudence. That’s what she got for being late to breakfast. Kids groaned and splashed toward the pool ladders and stairs.
Bridget, lying next to her on a towel, stretched her arms above her head. Her legs and stomach, like Courtney’s, glistened from a mixture of sweat and tanning oil. She and her friend had gone with a very loose definition of “swimming” during the activity period.
They’d been assigned different cabins this year, and Courtney found herself missing Bridget terribly over the past week. This was their fifth summer as camp friends, though they never talked during the school year besides exchanging occasional likes on Instagram. Bridget wasn’t super deep or even very nice, but she was easy. She didn’t ask complicated questions or force thoughtful conversation. And, despite her perfect body—with incredible C-cups, wide, swaying hips, and a flat stomach between—Courtney had never felt the tiniest hint of attraction toward her. What she’d told her brother was true, she assured herself as she stared at Bridget’s smooth skin without a single prick of desire. She didn’t like girls.
“So, you’re going after David this time, huh?” Bridget asked, too casual to be as uninterested as she sounded.
Courtney shrugged. “He’s cute enough.” Though she’d gotten the same thrill she always got when she managed to snag a boy on her hook, she felt nothing for David himself. No spark, despite squeezing the biceps she’d heard other girls swoon over. “Why?”
Bridget swept to her feet and started straightening out her crumpled dress. Her gold bikini glittered in the sun. She didn’t look at Courtney. “No reason.”
“Uh-huh.” Courtney wasn’t buying it. She stood up and stepped into her shorts.
Bridget pulled the dress over her head. She sighed. “He was on my short list. Which has gotten shorter the last couple of days.”
Courtney laughed. “I’m not attached. I’ll back off if you want.” She tugged on her pale blue tank.
Bridget ceased fidgeting with her dress and looked at Courtney, gauging her reaction. “Oh, would you?”
“Yeah, of course,” Courtney said. “Anything for my camp BFF.” Not that she cared either way. David was a beautiful distraction, but she appreciated his six-pack and dimples the same way she appreciated Monet paintings. She acknowledged they were pretty, but she didn’t experience an emotional response to them. Not like she did with Picasso paintings.
Bridget beamed, tossing her brunette waves over her shoulder. “Besties,” she sang.
They began the long walk to the dining hall.
“Wish you could sit with me at lunch.” Bridget pouted. “Everyone in my cabin this year is so basic.”
“Me, too. My cabin isn’t any better.”
“Oh, I heard you have a new nemesis this year.” Bridget perked up at the prospect of gossip. “Gimme all the deets.”
Courtney groaned a complaint. Why did everyone insist on talking to her about Riya all the time? “Just some girl in my cabin. She helped Delores prank me before she even knew who I was, then I did the same. Now, it seems, we’re enemies.”
Bridget shot some serious side-eye at Courtney’s tone. “I thought you loved prank wars.”
Courtney shrugged, knowing Bridget would accept it and let it go. She didn’t want to explain why this time was different. She didn’t want this time to be different at all.
“Well, if you need any help, let me know. Even if you just need a lookout. It must be tough being in the same cabin with her, knowing she could walk in at any time.”
And that was, quite possibly, the most insightful thing Bridget had ever said to her, and the girl didn’t even know it. “Thanks, Bridge.”
Courtney switched the topic to David’s abs, and Bridget picked up the conversation, running full-speed with it until they walked into the dining hall.
Riya and Trey stood in an aisle halfway between their two tables, talking. Their cheeks were flushed. Riya had pulled her hair into a side braid and loose strands stuck out, caressing her shoulder. Courtney walked right by them without so much as a nod, but neither of them seemed to notice her presence. Riya was laughing, hand fisted over her mouth, her brown eyes wide with amusement.
Ugh, Courtney wished she could grab a plate and sit with her brother. But that was strictly against the rules. She’d gotten away with not sit
ting at her table at a couple breakfasts, but only because she’d moved from table to table, never lingering too long in one spot. Plus, it had left her starving, and she needed the energy. She planned to dance during the post-lunch quiet time.
Courtney slumped into a spot on the end, as far away as possible from where the other pair of twins and the loud-mouthed Elise sat, knowing Riya would sit with them again. Across the room, her brother met her gaze and raised an eyebrow, smirking. The bastard.
She sat up straight, raising her nose high into the air, and pulled on a practiced mask of self-importance.
Courtney smiled at Jenna and Kanda, her two friends in her cabin this year. Luck of the draw, she’d ended up in a cabin with so many jocks. Jenna and Kanda were both sweet and—even though they played sports at camp—were definitely not jocks.
Riya finally joined their table when Delores delivered the tray of food. Courtney watched her scoop heaps of mac and cheese onto her plate, then top it with veggies and a thin slice of turkey, mixing it all together. Courtney decided to try it the same way. When she looked up from mixing the dish, she caught Riya watching her with a half smile on her face.
Courtney did not look at Riya again.
At the end of what felt like a four-hour lunch, Colt sauntered up to her.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” he said.
She raised one shoulder, then dropped it. “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out how many times Dewey will let me lie by the pool and call it swimming.”
Colt laughed. “Probably depends on which bikini you’re wearing.”
She made a face. “Gross.”
“Come on, Court. Dewey’s a nice guy.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Colt rolled his eyes. “You’re terrible. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d join me for singing. David apparently has plans to help Bridget with…something? I’m not really sure. So I need someone to keep the beat.”
Keeping Her Secret Page 6