by P. J. Night
It all made perfect sense now, and Sam couldn’t help but smile.
I’d make a pretty good detective, Sam thought, if I do say so myself.
If only she could solve the mystery of where Dennis was now, and why he was keeping her waiting, she’d feel 100 percent better.
She hoped his feelings hadn’t changed since she’d left him in the woods.
The sudden thought drained her smile.
What if he had changed his mind and didn’t really like her that much after all?
She stuffed the rest of her blondie in her mouth, then anxiously wiped her hands. That’s when the feel of a hand on her back made her instantly spin around.
“Dennis!” she cried—and a mouthful of blondie spewed out into space.
CHAPTER 8
Jennifer laughed. “Oh, Sam! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” She brushed the pale, sticky crumbs off the front of her shirt. Her face was already flushed from dancing, and her dirty blond hair was damp. Strands clung to her neck in soggy ropes, and a few crossed her cheeks like shiny scars. She pried them off with her fingers, then crossed her arms and scratched at two angry bugbites on her elbow.
“So, who’s Dennis?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Is he why you haven’t been dancing? What’s up?”
Sam bit her lip. Do I tell her? she wondered. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure. The part of her that was still excited about having a boyfriend wanted to tell her friend everything. But the part that was starting to lose hope in his coming wanted to tell her to forget it.
But before Sam could say anything, her sister came skulking up.
“So how was your dance?” Sam asked Ali. “That guy seemed really nice.”
Ali rolled her eyes. “Oh, just dreamy,” she grumbled, then she faked a squinty smile.
“Well, here, have a cookie.” Sam held out a plate. “They have your favorite. Chocolate chip.”
Ali took one, then she grabbed one more as Sam put back the plate. “Thanks, Sam. You’re so very kind to offer me the ones you don’t want . . . just like boys,” she said between sour bites.
“Huh?” Sam stared at her sister, bewildered. She knew her sister was shy about asking boys to dance, and how bored she always got at their dances at school—so why was Ali so upset now, Sam wondered, when all she had done was try to help her have a little fun?
Jennifer, meanwhile, ignored Ali and focused her attention instead on Sam. “I still want to know why you’re hanging out all by yourself, Sam, and who this Dennis guy is!” She peered over Sam’s shoulder at the wall of photos. “Is he in one of these pictures?” she asked.
“Hey, guys! Jennifer! You left us!” squealed Megan, running up just then to join them. Stefi and Georgia were close behind. They were all glowing with excitement and giddy from almost an hour of jumping around nonstop.
“Mmm! Snacks!” said Stefi, grabbing a brownie. Georgia eyed the bowl of chips and took a handful. “Just what I needed!” She grinned. “Then I’m going to ask that guy to dance!” She pointed a chip at a tall boy by the door to the kitchen. “I think he’s been checking me out since we got here.”
The girls followed her gaze.
“Who?” Ali said. “That guy with the blond hair?”
“Mmn-hmn!” Georgia chewed noisily and grinned.
Ali snorted. “Ah, yeah. Good luck with that.”
Georgia’s eyebrows slid bitterly together. “Oh, who asked you, Ali?” she said.
“Whatever,” said Ali. “But he has a girlfriend, just so you know.”
Georgia turned to Sam, who shrugged and nodded.
“She’s right,” Sam said.
“Aw. No fair!” Georgia whined. Then she looked around quickly, waving a half-eaten chip. “Okay. So I guess I’ll just find someone else.”
Just then a group of boys burst through the mess hall doors, and Sam stood up on her tippy-toes to try to check them out.
Was Dennis with them? No. They were too young. Probably fifth graders. Too bad . . .
Ali followed Sam’s eyes. “Don’t even think about setting me up with one of those little twerps,” she snapped.
Georgia whipped her head around to see. “Well, you know, you can’t be too picky, Ali, when you refuse to dance in a big group with us.”
Ali crossed her arms. “I just don’t get the point.”
“Duh!” Megan frowned at her. “The point is to have fun.”
“Right.” Jennifer nodded. “But remember who you’re talking to,” she said.
Ali cut her eyes to Jennifer. “What does that mean?” she asked.
“Nothing.” Jennifer shrugged. “It just means that you don’t seem that interested, most of the time at least, in having fun.”
“Oh, Ali has fun sometimes,” said Sam.
Jennifer turned to her. “She does? Really? How?”
“Well . . .” Sam tried to think, then she turned to her sister, at last. “What do you like, Ali?” she asked.
Ali huffed. “You know what I like?” She shot a look at each of the girls from Bunk 9. “I like people to leave me alone. You guys don’t know the first thing about me. Not even you, Sam,” she said.
Sam stared back at her, stunned, and Ali thought about saying even more. Things like: Think about it, Sam. You don’t know what I like to do or what I’m interested in. And you never ask because you don’t care. You go around acting like the whole world revolves around you, and you have since we were little. Maybe just once in your life you could think about someone besides yourself. But instead she bit her lip so hard she could taste the tang of her blood.
“Well, why don’t we leave her alone,” said Georgia, wiping her hands on the legs of her jeans.
“Yeah, I love this song,” said Megan. “If you don’t want to dance, that’s your problem, Ali.”
“Come on!” Jennifer tugged on Sam’s elbow. “The dance’ll be over soon.”
Sam sighed. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“What is wrong with you?” Stefi asked.
Ali rolled her eyes impatiently. “Oh, why don’t you just tell them? Enough drama already, Sam.”
“Tell us what?” The other girls crowded around Sam even closer.
“Well—” Sam began.
“That she was hoping to meet some guy here at the dance,” said Ali, “but he hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Really?” Megan made a sad face. “Aw, bummer!” She laid her arm across Sam’s shoulders and gave her a sympathetic squeeze.
“Hey, he could still come,” Stefi said. “Right? I mean, the dance isn’t over yet.”
“Oh, face it,” said Ali. “He’s not coming.” She looked Sam squarely in the eye. “You got stood up,” she said. The words felt so good as they came out. “I guess he didn’t like you as much as you thought.”
“Oh!” Now it was Jennifer’s turn to glare at Ali. “What a terrible thing to say!”
“Yeah,” said Georgia. “Even if it’s true, you don’t have to be so harsh, Ali.”
“I’m sure it’s not true,” said Stefi.
“Totally not,” Megan agreed. “But still. That doesn’t mean we have to just stand around here. Come on.” She grabbed one of Sam’s hands and nodded to Jennifer, who took the other one. “This is the best song, and we sure don’t need boys to dance to it. Whenever Dennis gets here, Sam, he’ll find you, don’t worry—and when he does, he should see you having fun!”
And with that, the girls herded Sam out onto the dance floor, leaving Ali all alone. She watched the disco lights swirl over the girls as if to sweep them up. Soon a group of boys joined them, along with the girls from Bunk 10. Ali could see Sam’s smile grow brighter, and her own hands clenched in fists. First Sam broke the rules and still got to come. Then the boy from her dream—who was real—stands her up, and she still has fun. Ali, meanwhile, said one little thing—that was totally true—and the girls turned their backs on her. Well, I never liked them anyway, she told herself, so why should I care? There was only one th
ing that really mattered to her for the rest of the night: Whoever this guy Dennis was, he’d better not show up.
CHAPTER 9
The next morning, a sunny Saturday, there were mixed emotions in Bunk 9. Jennifer, Georgia, Megan, and Stefi were all still giddy from the dance the night before. Ali, on the other hand, was still bitter because the only people—other than the girls from her bunk—who had talked to her all night were people who thought that she was Sam. (Then, of course, as soon as they realized who she really was, they all found some quick excuse to hurry off.) But Ali was also satisfied to know that Sam’s luck had finally run out. Dennis, the boy Sam had waited for, never did appear, and Ali couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of her sister sulking, for once in her charmed life on the verge of heartbroken tears.
“I can’t believe today’s our last full day,” said Jennifer. “What do you think we should do?”
They’d just come back from breakfast and were stretched out on their bunks. Gwen had suggested they start packing, but that was the last thing anyone wanted to do. There would be a big end-of-session camp color war beginning at one o’clock, but until then they were free to do whatever they wanted, just about.
None of them had been in a color war before, but Gwen had explained it to them earlier. Together with Bunks 1 and 5 they would be Team Red, and all afternoon they’d compete against other color teams in a dozen or so events. There’d be team sports, like volleyball and basketball, as well as some individual ones (which was great for Team Red since Sam was the best archer in all of Minnehaha). There’d also be a team cheer competition and a big relay race at the end, and some other surprise games that they didn’t even know about yet. At the end the team with the most points would get special trophies, but that wasn’t the best part. The winners would also get to have their trunks packed for them by their counselors.
“It’s already hot,” said Megan, fanning herself, as she lay back on her bunk. “I say we go to the pool.”
“Hey, good idea!” Georgia sprang up and began to look for her bathing suit. “I just have to do a back flip off that diving board before I go home.”
“You haven’t done one yet?” scoffed Ali.
Georgia took a deep breath and shook her head. “No.”
“And have you, Ali?” said Jennifer. “I sure haven’t seen you, if you have.”
Ali turned away. “Oh really? That’s too bad for you, I guess.”
“Well, let’s all go and you can show us, Ali!” said Stefi. She kissed Bingo and propped him up just so. Then she jumped down off her bunk. “Come on.” She looked up at Sam, who was still lying back, legs crossed. “What are you waiting for, Sam? Hey, you’re not still thinking about that dumb guy from Camp Hiawatha, are you?”
“Yeah, forget about him,” said Megan. “I mean, I’m sure he was sick, but still, he should have gotten a message to you.”
“What? No.” Sam shook her head quickly. “I’m over his spell! Just feeling lazy.” She grinned and patted the paperback beside her. “You guys go ahead without me,” she said. “I’m going to save my energy for the color war and just hang out and finish this book.”
“Aw!” Stefi frowned, and so did the others. “Really?” she said.
“Yeah, really?” said Ali, leaning out from her bunk to try to see her sister’s face. That had to be the first time ever that Sam felt “lazy.” Or passed up swimming with her friends.
“Yeah, really.” Sam grinned. “Go ahead.” And with that she opened her book. “Have fun, you guys. And good luck with that flip, Georgia. I know you can do it.”
As soon as they’d all changed and had left, Sam started reading, but she didn’t read for very long. She waited till Ali had gone too—not to the pool, but to the latrine. By then she was sure the other girls had reached the pool and weren’t coming back for a forgotten towel or sunscreen. Then she hopped down out of her bunk and grabbed her backpack off her hook. She opened the cabin door, slipped out, and headed toward the woods.
She just had to do it. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. She had a good hour and a half, she figured, to hike to the clearing and back. It was more than enough time to leave the sweatshirt and return to camp before she was missed. And this time there’d be no worry that Gwen would ask anyone where she was. All the counselors were way too busy getting ready for the color war later on. The only question in Sam’s mind was, would Dennis be there again?
And maybe one more, she admitted: Did she want to see him if he was?
Of course she was dying to know why he hadn’t been at his own camp’s dance the night before. Especially when he knew that she’d be there—and when it had seemed that he liked her so much. Had she been totally wrong about that? (And had Ali been right?) Or was there a perfectly good explanation? If there was, she wanted to know. And if there wasn’t, well then she kind of wanted to know that, too. And if Dennis Shaw didn’t like her, then she definitely didn’t want his dumb sweatshirt.
She made her way to the Old Stump Trail, happy at once for the shade. It wasn’t as cool as a swim, but it was still a relief from the surprisingly early heat of the late August day. As she walked, she kept her eye out for the trail marker and the spot where the path to the clearing began. There, just ahead, she saw it and took it, weaving through the leafy tree limbs. She wasn’t as worried this trip as the last one about getting lost or losing the trail. She remembered how it zigged and zagged in places and recognized a few trees here and there, and it was early and the sun was high and bright and clearly not going anywhere. Plus this time Sam had brought her compass with her and even her map. Why waste four weeks of orienteering? she’d thought when she tucked them in her bag. She didn’t pull them out, though. She didn’t have to. Once again the trail was surprisingly easy to follow, considering it was barely there. And the farther she went, the more strongly it pulled her, step by step by step. Her heart was beating fast and only got faster as she moved along.
At last, like a lighthouse, a ray of bright sun signaled that the clearing wasn’t too far ahead. Sam reached it and pushed through the last prickly thicket, prepared to feel the sun again. But she didn’t. To her surprise the clearing was every bit as cool and maybe even cooler than the trail. And the pleasant smell she remembered was replaced by a sweet, moldy smell, like a pile of leaves in the fall. The sweetness almost stung her nose. The grass was so dead it looked like hay. Everything looked so much more alive yesterday, she thought.
A shiver shot up her spine suddenly, and instinctively she rubbed her arms. Then she held them out and looked down. She could see the sun shining down on them, but they were covered with goose bumps. She thought of the sweatshirt in her backpack and considered putting it on. But no. It wasn’t hers. She’d come to give it back.
So, is Dennis here? she wondered, scanning the clearing. It was so quiet and still. Even the butterflies seemed to be resting, barely moving their papery wings. Sam listened and realized her breathing was the loudest thing in the whole place. Or was it her heart steadily thumping away between short breaths? She was almost afraid to break the silence by calling out Dennis’s name. She opened her mouth, then she closed it and decided to walk up to the cabin and peek inside instead.
If he was there, great. Then maybe he could explain. But if not, fine. She’d leave the sweatshirt there for him to find when—and if—he came back.
This time, Sam watched where she was going and was careful to stay clear of any holes. She stuck to the grass and made a wide circle around any suspicious patches of leaves. Now and then she looked over her shoulder, not exactly sure why. She hoped to see Dennis, but she didn’t. Nor did she see anyone else. And yet, it sure felt as if eyes were on her, carefully watching her every step.
Snap!
The sudden sound of something breaking made Sam jump and spin around. Then she spotted the twig beneath her shoe. Relax, she told herself. It was nothing, Sam, only you.
At last she reached the cabin and stood outside the door. I
t looked more dilapidated than she remembered it being yesterday. Her crush on Dennis must have blinded her. She could knock, she guessed, but she was sure by then that no one was inside. If Dennis was there, he would have seen her—or heard her—by now and come out. A sinking, hollow feeling told her she’d come here for nothing. She had no boyfriend, after all. She took a deep breath, full of disappointment, and slowly let it out.
There was an old, weathered latch on the door, and she lifted it. She reached for the handle, about to pull. But it hurt—“Ow!” she cried, letting go.
The handle was so cold that it burned!
Stunned and stinging, Sam winced and stood there. Then suddenly her eyes grew wide.
The door before her was swinging open . . .
Cr-e-e-eaaak . . .
All by itself.
CHAPTER 10
Too stunned to scream, Sam fell back and landed on the grass. Still she kept her eyes on the doorway, sure that something awful was about to jump out. The door was open just a fraction, so she couldn’t see inside. She could make out only shadows. Was that the chair? She couldn’t tell. Not only was it dark in the cabin, it was murky, as well. It was as if the place were filled with smoke. Sam sniffed, ready to smell the acrid odor, but something quite different met her nose. She inhaled again. It was familiar. She knew she’d smelled it before, and she was just beginning to remember where, when suddenly she heard the groan of a loose floorboard.