“Wow,” the Captain said. “The plaques are stunning. They’ll be a wonderful addition to the Dining Hall.” Through the applause, it hit Jenny that she wouldn’t have her name on the wall like she’d once dreamed, and that stung. But then she reminded herself that there were more important things at stake than her bubbly name in a spiral. And, hey, she was only a Faith Hiller—she had time to leave a legacy if that was what she truly wanted.
Next, the Captain brought the Highgate and Sherri Hill Lieutenants up to the stage to announce the Generals’ entrances. General Silver entered as Michael Jackson in a hot-orange jacket and tight orange jeans. He broke through the MTV pyramid and moonwalked across the stage. General Ferrara entered as Madonna in a hot-pink ball gown and fake diamonds. She was carried in by six tuxedoed counselors à la the “Material Girl” music video. General Power made his entrance to “Purple Haze,” costumed as Jimi Hendrix, bare-chested with an open velvet jacket and a red bandana in his ’fro wig. General McCarville came in swinging from one of the mushroom piñatas, costumed as Janis Joplin in a short, sleeveless gold dress with round pink-tinted sunglasses.
As both teams continued to go ballistic, the Generals huddled in the center of the Social Hall for the coin toss to determine the song order. Jenny crossed her fingers that the Blue alma would be last so she could find Jamie right after, the words still ringing in the air. The Captain announced the results: “First up for the march: Blue. First up for the alma mater: White.” Score-sauce! Jenny uncrossed her fingers with a huge smile.
General McCarville and General Power climbed on top of their chairs, their arms out toward their team, ready to conduct. Jenny perked up. TJ cued Steinberg with a thumbs-up, and he played the Foundations’ 1968 hit “Build Me Up Buttercup.” Alongside her team, Jenny leapt to her feet and sang:
“Tune into Woodstock now (Woodstock now),
holy wow, Blue team
Just a groovy sound (groovy sound),
the Beatles break ground
And the funk of it (funk of it), you never sit, Blue team
There’s no time for that (time for that),
you better dance STAT
Listen up, listen up, Jimi Hendrix is playin’
You know it’s the summer of love
So tune on in (tune on in), watch out White, Blue soars above”
By the last chorus, everyone in the Social Hall was clapping. Blue belted out the last line: “So tune on in (tune on in), Psychedelic Sixties has won!” Even though Blue didn’t actually know if they’d won the march and were far behind in the grand scheme of the war, the team sang with such passion that it was hard to believe they wouldn’t be taking home all the wins. Jenny hugged random One Tree Hillers around her even though she didn’t know their names, and then sat down to watch White.
Steinberg played Katrina and the Waves’ 1983 song “Walking on Sunshine.” Jenny noted that the lyrics didn’t fit the music as well as Blue’s, but the chorus was really catchy:
“We’re playing Nintendo (whoa oh)
The Rubik’s Cube—nailed it (whoa oh)
Let’s go Dirty Dancing (whoa oh)
The Awesome Eighties (HEY!)
All right now
The Awesome Eighties (HEY!)”
When they finished, Jenny assessed: White’s march was pretty good; Blue’s was way better. The White team stayed standing for their alma, which was to Cyndi Lauper’s 1986 release “True Colors.” From the first lyric, it was moving: “Hearts beating quickly, seeing new faces stepping off the bus.” It brought Jenny back to that very first bus ride to camp, where her friendship with Jamie had begun. Then her mind skipped from memory to memory: the way she and Jamie shared Creamsicles; the time Jenny braided Jamie’s hair into her own so they’d be attached at the head for the day; the time Jamie was sick in the infirmary, so Jenny pretended she was, too, just so they could be together. Now Jenny looked at Jamie singing the chorus and tried not to cry.
“Our summer home where friendships
Grow so strong
From different places
Yet we come together.
United we stand, supporting each other
Mile wide smiles
Uncontrolled giggles
Bonds beautiful as a rainbow.”
Jenny caught Jamie’s eye on the last line of the chorus, and Jenny lost it. The tears slipped down her burning cheeks. Jamie’s face went into pre-cry mode, lip-biting and all. Did that mean Jamie was ready to forgive her? Or was she just emotional from the song? When White finished, Jenny gave them a standing ovation. She could feel her team eyeing her like she was possessed by the magic of SING, which she probably was, but whatever. This was for Jamie.
White sat down, so Jenny sat, too. General McCarville rose onto one of the chairs. Alma time! In her head, Jenny ran through the opening to the Blue alma mater. She tried to imagine what Jamie’s face would look like if the memories rushed back to her as they had to Jenny in the shower.
“Jenny? Is Jenny Nolan in the house?”
Jenny whipped her attention to General McCarville. Her heart began to race. She rose with hesitation. “Yeah?”
General McCarville pointed to the empty chair beside her. “You’re conducting with me, girl.” Jenny let the words echo in her head before she was able to fully understand them. Conduct? With her? When the meaning hit, she could hardly breathe, she was so overwhelmed and excited. Conducting was one of the biggest honors in all of camp. No camper, not even the one who had grown up to be a real-live conductor, had ever conducted in Rolling Hills history. It was reserved for the Generals and the Generals only. What was happening?!
She looked over at General Power basking in the trippy lights. He gave her a “go ahead” nod. Her eyes wandered to a sexy Play Dough in a dreadlocked wig, bell-bottoms that were six inches too long, and a white fringed shirt. He gave Jenny a thumbs-up that knocked the nerves right out of her.
As Jenny made her way to the chair, she looked back at Jamie. “This is for you,” she mouthed. Jenny stepped up beside General McCarville. She wiped her face dry and looked out at the 150 sets of eyes focused on her.
As the “Hey Jude” intro swelled, Jenny realized that, facing her team, she wasn’t going to be able to sing to Jamie. She wasn’t going to be able to track Jamie’s emotions or gauge her forgiveness. But that was OK, she told herself. She didn’t want to stifle her best friend. All Jenny needed to do was conduct her team and trust that the message would hit Jamie as hard as White’s alma had hit her.
“Hey, you, I miss your smile,
Been a while since I wrote a letter
The mem’ries live inside of my heart
And then they restart and everything’s better”
Jenny’s left leg began shaking. She couldn’t tell if she was uneasy conducting, or worried that the judges wouldn’t like her song, or terrified that Jamie wouldn’t relate, or all three. Keep it together, she pleaded.
“Hey, White, although we fight
Our friendship cannot be broken
Remember the cuddle-spoons that we’ve shared
No war can tear the bonds we have woven”
Now her face was damp. Sweat? Tears? Probably both. She wanted to wipe it, but her arms were busy conducting. The wetness amplified as her arms waved around to the beat. She felt crazy and overheated—was she having early onset hot flashes? Her grammy once told her they ran in the family.
“So hug it out and let me in, hey friend, we win
Regatta a lotta stars to thank tonight
The winter’s long but summer’s strong, hey friend, this song
Will carry you through ten months for just two
Nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah nah, yeah”
Her team had their arms slung over each other’s shoulders, swaying to the beat. Normally swaying was cheesy and distracting, because everyone moved in different directions, but not this time. Blue was totally in sync.
Jenny suddenly got the urge to be bold. She looked
at General McCarville. She was doing great. She looked back at her team. They were doing great. It was time to check on Jamie. She hopped off the chair, walked toward her best friend, and sang the last verse directly to her.
“Hey, you, I see your smile
Been a while since I got your letter
The mem’ries soar inside of my heart
Now they’ll restart and make it better”
As the music faded, Jenny could hear the entire camp sobbing. She imagined that, if her home friends were here, they’d think every endangered species had just gone extinct. She’d have a hard time explaining that, no, it’s just that everyone’s obsessed with camp and didn’t want it to end in two days. Jenny let the emotional chaos fade to white noise and took in Jamie’s glassy eyes. They looked like melting Hershey’s Kisses.
Jenny held the letter out to Jamie, and she hesitantly took it. “Jamie. Before you read this, I just want to say three things.”
Jamie nodded an OK.
“One: You were so brilliant tonight, and you were brilliant all week as Lieutenant, and you’ve always been brilliant, and I should have given you room to shine a long time ago.”
The residual anger in Jamie’s eyes washed away, and Jenny could feel their psychic-squad connection come alive. Jamie was giving Jenny access to her mind, and the message was loud and clear: I miss you, Jenny. I want to play jacks with you and dance with you and have everything go back to the way it was, only better.
Jenny knew she could respond to Jamie in her mind, but she didn’t want their revived friendship to be a secret. So she carried on with her list. “Two: I miss you so much it hurts.”
Jamie’s hands, which were in little fists, began to uncurl.
“When I wrote the alma I realized how much I treasure our friendship and how I would do anything to win you back. Jamie Lynn Nederbauer, you are my Bestest Best Friend.”
“What’s the third thing?” Jamie asked.
“I’m sorry. Like truly, truly, for-real sorry.”
Jamie smiled weakly, and then the tears started streaming down her face. “I’m sorry I called you a cheater.”
“It’s OK,” Jenny said. “I did cheat.”
“I’ve been excluding you and only hanging out with Missi.”
Jenny shrugged. “Sometimes I watch the two of you and I’m like Wow, they’ve got a really good friendship, too, and I think that makes me really jealous because we’re best friends,” Jenny admitted. “But what if the three of us were besties?”
“That would be nice.”
“Miss Jen-Jam.”
Jamie laughed. “You’re so genius at mash-up names!”
For a brief moment, they took in the rest of the camp. Everyone seemed to be hugging it out, a mosh pit of Blue and White love. Blite love.
“I’m so sorry about Christopher,” Jamie blurted. “Play Dough told me. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve told myself, ‘It’s a Christopher crisis and Jenny needs me,’ or, like, ‘It’s a J-squad crisis and we need each other.’”
Jenny shook her head. “Christopher’s a jerk. There’s a bigger fish in the sea.”
“Do you mean plenty of fish?”
Play Dough passed by behind Jamie, and Jenny felt her heart flutter-kick at twice its normal rate. Was it possible that his rejection just made her like him more? Or did she just like him so much that she didn’t care if the feeling was mutual? Jenny searched her mind for an analogy and thought about Beauty and the Beast. It was almost like Play Dough was a beast and she was a beauty, except on the inside he was a beauty and she was . . . well, she was also beautiful on the inside now. And she dug Play Dough’s outer beauty, too, even if everyone else was blind to it. Wow, my life really is like a Disney movie, Jenny thought. Except without the happily ever after.
Jenny finally broke her gaze to look at Jamie, who was gaping at her. Jamie glanced over her shoulder and then back at Jenny. “Omigod, you were staring at Play Dough!”
“Omigod, no!” There is no way I was that obvious, Jenny thought.
“Omigod, yes, you were! And this letter”—Jamie waved it in the air—“tells me exactly how you feel about him.”
Jenny froze. “Wait.”
Jamie began to read the letter aloud: “Dear Play Dough, Sometimes love finds you on the lake at midnight. We’re not the likeliest pair. But when I’m with you—”
Jenny snatched the paper from Jamie’s hand. “That’s the wrong letter.”
“You think?!” Jamie asked. “So, you really like him?”
“I do,” Jenny admitted. “I kissed him on the trambopoline. Is that ‘ew’?”
“JENNY!” Jamie squealed with joy. “If you actually like him, then he’s not ‘ew.’ He’s hot tamales. Smooching on the trambopoline? That’s so romantic.”
Jenny grinned. “I thought so, too.” She was aching for a Jamie hug. How had she survived this week without her best friend? She needed to double confirm this fight was over. “So . . . ,” she said.
“So . . . ,” Jamie followed.
“Are you still mad at me?” Jenny asked, crossing her fingers behind her back.
“No way. Like you wrote in the alma, ‘Our friendship cannot be broken.’”
Jenny uncrossed with relief.
“She-FFs are BFFs!” they squealed together. “Jinx! Double jinx! Triple jinx! Quadruple jinx! What does She-FFs even mean? Omigod, I’ve missed you.” Jamie and Jenny stared into each other’s eyes, at a loss for more overlapping words, and then embraced.
“Play Dough was right. I should have made up with you a long time ago.” Jamie gasped. “Uh-oh.” She pulled away, and Jenny watched as the color in her face drained from caramel to manila-folder beige.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re gonna hate me. I’m scared.”
“I could never hate you.” Jenny held Jamie’s cheeks. “The only thing I hate about you is not being friends with you.”
“OK, well, I may have, out of really big anger and jealousy, told Play Dough you were using him and that he shouldn’t be your puppet.”
“When?”
“At Rope Burn. Please don’t be mad!”
So that’s why Play Dough rejected me at the Regatta! Jenny realized. They’d shared this magical moment of love, and then Jamie had stomped on his hopes and dreams. Jenny wasn’t his PR nightmare. Play Dough just had to learn that Jenny thought he was amazing and would never hurt him again, and then they could share kisses and happiness and a camp wedding and a honeymoon in Hawaii and three teacup maltipoos and the nickname “Dough Jenny.”
“Jenny!” Jamie waved a hand in front of Jenny’s face. “You’re smiling. Why are you smiling? Say something, you’re scaring me!”
“I didn’t like Play Dough like that at first, Jamie, and I did use him to get you in trouble—it’s not like you lied. But I’m a woman now, and my feelings have changed. Play Dough’s only upset with me because he has no idea where I am emotionally.”
“Where are you emotionally?”
“I’m here.” She pulled Jamie’s hand over her heart.
Missi was lurking a few feet away, clearly jealous of their reunion. “Missi, get your butt over here,” Jenny demanded. Missi scampered over, and Jenny let her feel her heart, too. Now that Jenny knew how sucky it felt to be left out, it was the least she could do. Plus, Missi wasn’t so bad. She was only half as mean as Jenny was to her, and Jenny couldn’t blame her for wanting a taste of popularity. It tasted good. But it wasn’t everything.
“It’s beating really fast,” Missi said.
“Sometimes fate just, like, happens,” said Jamie.
Jenny sighed. “At some point, you have to stop planning it and just live your life.”
“Totally,” Missi and Jamie said together.
“Wait, so are we all friends again?” Missi asked.
Jenny deferred to Jamie with a smile.
“You know it,” Jamie said. “We’re Miss Jen-Jam.”
“Ooooh
!” Missi said. “I like it!”
Jamie snatched back Play Dough’s letter and slipped out of the huddle. “I gotta get this in the right hands,” she said. Before Jenny could protest, or Missi could voice her confusion, Jamie shuffled off in her “Thriller” heels.
The Captain interrupted with an announcement. “Blue and White, we’ve calculated the SING scores and, well . . .” Even though they were on opposing teams, Jenny and Missi squeezed hands like they were in this together. “We’re in an unprecedented pickle: Color War is tied.”
FLASH APACHE RELAY
A series of events tied together with a baton handoff.
Archery. Must get bull’s-eye.
Tennis Ball Bouncing. One hundred consecutive bounces, no mess-ups.
Tennis Ball Sweep. Using a broom, weave through orange cones.
Rollerblading. Around perimeter of the court.
Backward Foul Shot. Get it in. Not facing the hoop.
Chocolate Bar Ingestion. Swallow it.
Color Bowl. Camp Rolling Hills trivia.
RULES
The first team that finishes wins it all.
Making Your Mark
Play Dough took a deep breath and flipped over the final index card from the judges’ table. Up top it read ANCHOR and below that, CAMP TRIVIA.
“That’s it, folks,” TJ announced. “The winner of this summer’s Color War will depend on a first-ever tiebreaker: a flash Apache Relay. We’ve got seven events for the officers. First team to complete the relay wins!”
Play Dough swallowed and tried to digest the magnitude of what was to come. He and Melman were going to be the last leg. The Apache Relay would come down to them and their brainpower. The stakes? Oh, just the highest they’d ever been. He peeled off his wig and shook his head, his sweat flying in all directions.
Breakout! Page 14