“Miss you, too,” I say. I hang up and quickly dial Kate. I’m on borrowed time.
“Hey!” Kate sounds happy to hear from me. “I’m so glad I caught you!”
“Sorry I haven’t been able to call. I have limited phone access, and I only called Margo because I had to ask her something.” It’s not entirely true, but I don’t want Kate to think I’m playing favorites.
“I heard about losing your phone. Bummer,” Kate says. “But you’ve got one now, so we can chat. I really want to hear about camp—another time—but right now I have a crucial favor. Can I pop over to your house and raid your closet? I figure you’re not wearing Laundry dresses in the woods and someone should be seen in them!” She laughs. “We have so many parties coming up, and Margo and I met this awesome girl at the beach club—Amber—you will love her. I need some threads to keep up with her!”
I laugh weakly. So that’s why she wanted to talk to me? To steal my clothes? “As long as you have everything back when I get home in three weeks,” I say.
“Three weeks? Oh, I thought you were gone longer.” Kate sounds sort of disappointed. “Okay. Oh, and if your dad gets any good concert tickets while you’re gone, be sure to tell him to send them my way. Amber would love to go to a concert. I’ve got to get to bed. Love you! Thanks! I’ll talk to you soon.” CLICK.
I exhale. I will be home in three weeks. Everything will be back to normal when I get home. I’m sure of it. I guess I should e-mail Mom though and warn her that Kate will be knocking on our door tomorrow morning.
FROM:
[email protected] TO:
[email protected] SUBJECT: I’m still alive
Hi, Mom! Thanks for overnighting me some new tees!
I’ve survived my first few days! Would you believe I’m a natural at paddleboarding? My new friend Lina is forcing me to do some sports electives with her (crazy, right?). I’m not thrilled, but she agreed to take a hip-hop dance class, so I had to compromise. What I won’t compromise on is a good breakfast. I asked for an egg-white omelet with soy cheese the other morning and our cook, Beaver (yes, that is his real name!), harassed me about it. Their menu here needs some help. The best thing they serve is this stuff called bug juice (which is a camp drink staple, I’m told).
I’m taking a videography class, too. McDaddy would be proud, I know, but do not tell him! I’m still mad. The counselor who teaches it says I have an eye for detail. Must be in the family!
Miss you a ton. Write me back soon. How did your blog session with HGTV go?
P.S.—Kate is stopping by tomorrow, I think, to borrow some clothes from my closet.
XO, H
CREAK.
Uh-oh! Someone is up! I slip Courtney’s phone back under her mattress, then hurry out of the room and into the bathroom so it looks like I was there the whole time. When no one appears after a few seconds, I slip back out and hurry into bed. When I look at the piggy alarm clock it says 1:00 a.m. Wow, I was on the phone awhile. Good thing everyone’s plan has free minutes after nine p.m. Within a few minutes, I’m asleep.
BEEP, BEEP! TIME TO GET UP! TIME FOR MORNING EXERCISE!
Huh? I feel like I just fell asleep! I rip off my sleep mask to look at the time. It’s actually six fifteen. I set my piggy alarm clock so I wouldn’t be late for breakfast duty. I had so much fun working with Beaver on kitchen cleanup that I volunteered to help him out with the cooking this week as well.
Maybe I’m going insane.
BEEP, BEEP! TIME TO GET UP! TIME FOR MORNING EXERCISE!
Why did I set this darn alarm clock so loud?
I pull back the drapes on my sheer canopy and punch at the buttons in a half-slumber state, trying to find the one that shuts my piggy off.
“Harper!” Camilla yells. I’ve noticed she’s the worst early morning riser.
“We talked about this!” Vickie chimes in. It’s hard to understand her with her mouth guard. “Stop setting your alarm! That’s what the bugle is for!”
“I need to get up before the bugle!” I say. My piggy alarm clock seemed like a good option for an earlier wake-up call, but the girls hate how loud it is. I can’t find the button, and for some reason, the alarm only gets louder the longer you let it go on. At this point, I hear the door to Sam and Courtney’s room open and girls in both bunks moving around. I’ve woken up the whole cabin.
Jeanie climbs up my ladder, scaring me half to death. Her hair looks like it’s been in a windstorm. She grabs my piggy and I’m afraid she’s going to throw it, but instead she finds the battery compartment and yanks out four AAs. Everyone applauds.
“I’m holding on to these until breakfast,” she says in a gruff, sleepy voice. “And don’t ever think of putting that pig on again.”
We’ve had this same conversation every morning for the last few days. Somehow they keep missing my point: I don’t have a phone that I can set on vibrate mode to the time I need to get up. I’ll just have to make the volume on my piggy alarm lower.
“Sorry, everyone.” I instinctively bite my nails. Must stop doing that. I see they’re all yawning and stretching. Courtney is standing in the middle of our room, rubbing her eyes. “Go back to sleep! I had to get up early to help Beaver. I volunteered for breakfast duty this week.” Courtney raises an eyebrow. “I know what you’re all thinking: me! A girl who hates breakfast is making it, but that’s what I’m doing and—”
“Jeanie, think you can find the batteries on Harper and take them out, too?” Camilla interrupts, and Jeanie and Addison giggle. Trisha snorts loudly.
I’m not fond of Trisha. Any girl who wears clogs can’t be trusted.
“I’ll be on my way now,” I tell Courtney and Lina, who is still half-asleep when I climb down my ladder. They are the only ones who really care where I’m off to, anyway.
Snakes in the lake and mandatory rock climbs might be awful, but the worst part of being at the Pines is the fact that my bunkmates still won’t give me an inch.
Can I help it if I like looking good? Or care about fashion? A person can look nice while hiking. If she couldn’t, there wouldn’t be countless outdoor clothing magazines dedicated to such a thing. I want to tell the rest of our bunk that it wouldn’t kill them to wear a skirt once in a while.
“I’ll go with you. I’m up.” Lina stumbles out of bed to find something to wear.
“Just shut up already,” Jeanie moans.
Hey, she’s wearing her sleep mask! I don’t say anything though as she’s in a bad mood. Thanks to me. I hurry into the bathroom to wash up. I’m not showering. I learned that lesson the hard way yesterday. After two hours in the kitchen, I smelled like a combination of burned toast and pancake batter.
In ten minutes, we’re on our way to the mess hall. The camp is quiet at this hour, and the two of us are still pretty tired, so we barely speak, which is okay. The sun is coming up over the trees, and it basks the lake in a warm orange glow. The birds are chirping happily because no one is telling them to shut off their alarm clock, and the air feels cool rather than sticky. Since most of the camp is still asleep, no one is outside, and it feels like Lina and I have the place to ourselves.
I like it that way.
As we near the mess hall, things get louder. Lina and I look at each other when we hear music blaring from the kitchen. Beaver has been up for hours getting ready for breakfast, but he’s still not the kind of guy I’d expect to have London Blue blasting at seven a.m. Lina practically races to the door when she hears who is playing. Then she stops short.
“What?” I ask. She points inside. I peek in and gasp. She throws her hand over my mouth.
Harper McAllister @HarperMc
Getting up early has its perks: Not only can you see the sun rise, you can also spy on the boys’ pop-song sing-along! #campperks
10
REPORTING FOR DUTY
I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M seeing.
Apparently, the boys of bunks 11A and B are on kitchen duty this morning, too. They don’t noti
ce us as the huge crowd of them bounce around and sing along. I almost die when I realize Ethan and Heath know every word to London’s song. Dirk, Kyle, and a bunch of other guys are banging on things while Justin uses a metal pot and two spoons as a drum. The best part is Beaver and Ethan singing with wooden spoons. They are belting out London’s lyrics as if their lives depend on it. Ethan even gives a little air kick. He’s in mid-riff when he sees Lina and me. We both start to laugh.
“You two do not get off that easily!” Ethan says and pulls us inside the bright silver kitchen with industrial appliances and long countertops. Everything gleams in the early morning light. Beaver is a stickler for a sparkling kitchen. “Kyle, grab Lina!” Lina is stiff as a board as Kyle takes her by the hand.
“We’re testing out a little mood music. Your brother says it will inspire me. What do you want to rock out to next?” Beaver goes to his iPod dock. “Another London song?”
“Yes!” Lina manages to say, even though Kyle is holding her hand.
“I heard this one is her next single.” He fires it up. “Have you heard it yet?”
Kyle and I exchange glances. McDaddy did the video already. “I think so,” I say.
Beaver throws Lina and me each a wooden spoon. “Then let’s hear it!”
Lina and I look at each other. “If I can survive a mud bath, you can sing in front of my brother,” I whisper in her ear. “Make him want to ask you to the canteen again.”
Her eyes widen. “Will he?” she squeaks.
“Come on, Adventure Barbie!” I say. That’s what we call each other now as a joke—I’m Camping Barbie, she’s Adventure Barbie. “You won’t know if you don’t try it.” I lean into her and start to sing the song. Lina looks like a deer caught in headlights at first, but I start making all these goofy faces and she starts to laugh.
Justin uses his wooden spoon to make music on all the hanging pans. Two guys from the other bunk have pots on their heads and are dancing behind me. I sing louder, and Beaver joins me on the chorus. He knows every word of London’s song! I notice Ethan standing near one of the counters watching us and I dance on over.
“You don’t want to sing?” I yell over the commotion. All this singing and dancing at seven a.m. has put me in a good mood. “I know you know the words.”
“And you know that how?” Ethan asks, smiling.
“I saw you singing on the last one,” I say. “Come on!” This time I grab his hand and pull him into the middle of the room with me. At first Ethan just stands there, but he can’t ignore the beat and finally starts to sing into my spoon. I join him. Then he spins me around like a top. I’m sort of dizzy after that, and Ethan reaches out and steadies me. I’m disappointed when the song is over.
“That was great!” Beaver marvels. “I wish we had taped it to send to London.” We all groan. “Why not?” He places his hands on his hips. “We were good!”
“Maybe we should take our act to the talent show,” Justin suggests.
“I could juggle while you guys sing,” says Dirk, who grabs a few strawberries and begins his routine. A few of the other guys try to join him.
Beaver holds up a hand to stop them. “We need those. Don’t drop them.”
Kyle moans. “Come on, Beaver. Let’s try juggling kitchen utensils next. They do that all the time on Daredevil.”
“You watch Daredevil, too?” Lina freaks out. “I live for that show!”
“Xtreme Sport Television, Exotic Sports Locales, and Daredevil are my faves,” Kyle says.
I see Lina start to twitch. Now that she has realized Kyle is into her, she doesn’t know how to act. As much as I do not want this pairing, I can’t let her hang out there to dry. “Lina also loves Armed and Dangerous,” I say, and notice Ethan watching me.
“That’s the one with the guy with no legs, right?” Kyle is getting excited. “That dude is awesome! Did you see when he went skydiving?”
“Yes!” Lina’s too into the topic to panic now. “That time the dude went—”
“You two—talk about skydiving while you set the tables,” interrupts Beaver. Lina begins to blush, but I nudge her forward. “The rest of you guys tackle cleanup duty.” The other bunk groans. I notice Heath, Dirk, and Justin hanging back to avoid being handed a mop, but Beaver is too smart for them. He walks right over with a bucket and Windex. “We got an early morning delivery and they tracked dirt in, so I need you guys to make it sparkle again.” Justin and Dirk salute, then take the guys with them through the kitchen’s swinging doors. Beaver points to Ethan and me. “You two prep the strawberries and the melons. I have to check on the bagel delivery.”
Ethan and I move over to the prep table where the strawberries are waiting. The London CD is still playing in the background, and I can smell the pancake batter Beaver whipped up. A few days ago, this huge kitchen with its fancy appliances stressed me out, but since Beaver has shown me where things are, I feel more comfortable. The only thing making me feel weird right now is being alone with Ethan. He grabs a few melons and gets to work. I begin chopping strawberries. The two of us work quietly side by side, but it feels strange to not be talking.
“So,” Ethan says suddenly as he dices melon. “How have you been?”
I try to concentrate on my strawberries, but my mouth starts to twitch. “You mean since I saw you yesterday when we had a group sailing lesson?”
I see him blush. “It’s been twenty-four hours.”
“You can admit it,” I joke. “Twenty-four hours is too long to go without seeing me, I know.”
He smirks. “Kyle’s right. You can be funny.” I bow. “When you’re not shoving mud in my face.”
“You deserved that.” I take another few strawberries and place them on the cutting board. I stop when I realize Ethan is watching me. “What?”
“You dice pretty well,” he says.
“I’m not completely helpless,” I say with a laugh. “I cut a mean pineapple, too, but I can’t stand cutting kiwi even if I do love to eat it. Too much work.”
“So are potatoes,” Ethan says. “I know they’re not fruit, but I hate peeling them. Somehow I always get stuck with them on Thanksgiving and here when Beaver is on a homemade french fry kick.” He grins. “Can’t he just use the frozen ones?”
“No way! Put love in it, and it tastes better.” I drop a few more strawberries into the bowl. I’m quiet for a second, and the only sound I hear are our knives. “Beaver taught me that in cooking class. I really like that elective. Karate, not so much.”
Ethan turns to the prep sink and washes another melon. “So the Pines isn’t killing you slowly, like you thought it would?”
I wash off another pint of strawberries. “I’m surviving, which is more than I thought I would last week. I still don’t like bugs, mud pits, or canoeing, and I can’t handle not having a phone! How can you stand not being able to check Facebook?”
Ethan shrugs. “The only updates I really care about are from people at the Pines with me already. I don’t think I’m missing out on much at home.”
“Well, I am missing out on a lot.” I mince a strawberry. “My friends and I had a lot of plans.”
“Slow down.” Ethan puts his hand on top of mine. “We’re not making preserves.”
I feel funny with our hands touching.
Ethan must, too, because he slowly removes his hand. “Kate must have freaked that you were coming here. I picture her micromanaging every detail of your summer ahead of time.”
I laugh. “That’s Kate.”
“She must really miss you,” Ethan says. “Has she sent you care packages? Jeanie’s always getting candy sent to her. Her best friend’s dad owns a candy store.”
I’m not sure which part of that question I want to tackle first. Kate hasn’t sent me anything. She’s just told me she wants to borrow all my clothes. I don’t really want to tell Ethan that. I’m not sure I want to ask about Jeanie, either, though, but I’m curious. “I heard from Kate yesterday,” I say, fudging things
a bit. “She’s really busy with… stuff.” Ethan nods. “Does Jeanie give you some of that candy she gets?”
Ethan carves another slice of melon. “Yeah. She knows I love Skittles.”
Deep breath, Harper. “So how long have you two been going out?”
“What?” I watch as his hand slips, nicking his finger. “OUCH!” Ethan grabs his finger and sucks on it. “Ouch,” he mumbles again.
Oops. That might have been my fault.
“What are you? A vampire?” I look on the wall and spot the first-aid kit. I pull it down and grab Band-Aids and ointment. “Give me your finger,” I say, and Ethan does as he’s told. His cut doesn’t look too bad. I put on the prep sink faucet and run Ethan’s finger under the water, watching the blood disappear. Then I blot his finger with a clean towel and squirt ointment on it.
“Thanks,” Ethan says quietly.
“You’re welcome.” I grab a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid and put it on him.
Ethan looks at me. “Jeanie and I are not going out, by the way.” I can’t help thinking his warm brown eyes remind me of my teddy bear stashed under my comforter. “We’re just good friends. We have been for years.”
“Oh.” I try not to smile. “I just assumed from the way you two acted…”
“Just friends,” he says firmly. “And you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
The sound of the faucet dripping slowly behind me suddenly sounds magnified, as does the London Blue CD on play. The two of us just stand there. Ethan opens his mouth to speak, but Beaver busts back through the kitchen doors.
“The bagel delivery won’t be here in time!” His eyes are wild. “I knew this day would come! What are we going to do without bagels? Our next cereal delivery isn’t till tomorrow and I don’t have enough pancake batter on hand.”
“Good!” I say, and they both look at me strangely. “Aren’t you tired of making the same thing every morning? There’s got to be something else we can come up with.”
“Don’t say egg-white omelets with soy cheese,” Beaver interrupts. “You’re the only one who wants them. And we don’t have enough eggs to cook regular omelets for the rest of the camp.”