Page 2 of Sleepaway Girls


  "Absolutely," Ashley said, sounding chipper. "Old Navy, right? I have the exact same one. Well, the designer version. Mine is Juicy."

  "Hey," a blond girl said to me as she jogged over and stood next to Em. She looked buff and super tan, but I got the feeling it came from being the outdoorsy type rather than a tanning bed queen. Her whole look screamed sporty. "I'm Grace," she said. "Are you the new CIT?"

  "Yes, I'm Sam," I said.

  Grace was staring at me intently. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she said. "Do you play field hockey?"

  "That's exactly what I said!" Em nudged Grace in the ribs. "I feel like we've met before."

  Oh no. They'd seen it. Any second now they were going to figure it out. I searched the group for Hunter. He was standing a few feet away throwing and catching the dodgeball into the air as he talked to a few other guys. Start the game, I begged him silently. Before they realize that I'm --

  Grace gasped. "You're that girl from the Dial and Dash commercial!"

  Shoot. I glanced around. Grace was so loud, people looked over to see what the fuss was about. Including Hunter, and Ashley and her group, who had turned around and were suddenly listening.

  "That's right!" Em seconded. "I love that commercial."

  "It's so genius," agreed Grace. "Your cell phone dies and you can't call your boyfriend to say good-bye before his trip," Grace narrated as a small crowd started to gather.

  "And so you swim through that river, jump over a building, and steal a motorcycle all so you can get to a store that sells a Dial and Dash phone so you can call him immediately," Em finished excitedly. The two of them looked at me expectantly. "That was you, right? Did you do your own stunts?"

  There was no denying it now. "That was me," I said and people began to murmur. "But I didn't actually leap over a building or ride a motorcycle."

  Stupid Dial and Dash moment. There were hundreds of commercials on TV every day, but for some reason the one I made, stuck. I liked making video diaries that were just for me, or video messages for my friends. I never wanted to be the next Jessica Alba.

  "That was the best commercial," Grace gushed. "So are you a model?"

  "No," I said quickly and sighed. "It's a long story, but the short version is that I did this low-budget test video for my mom's company. It was part of an advertising pitch they were making to Dial and Dash Phone. The actress they hired dropped out last minute so my mom enlisted me. No one was supposed to see it but the Dial and Dash people. But when they did, they loved it so much they wanted to shoot the commercial for real. The catch was, I had to be in it. I can't even get up in front of class to make a speech or read a report so it was kind of terrifying. But it was the only way my mom's company could get the deal so I caved."

  "Lucky you," Ashley interrupted. Her arms were folded across her chest and I could tell she was taking me in from head to toe. "I'm Ashley," she said with a bright smile. "I'm actually a real model and actress. I've done some commercial work myself."

  "Sam," I said for what felt like the tenth time today. Ashley was staring at me so intently I felt uneasy.

  "Ash, isn't that commercial the best?" One of her friends nudged her. "I loved the part when you jumped the building," she said to me.

  "She didn't actually jump," Ashley interrupted. "Didn't you hear her?"

  "Stunt double," I told the girl.

  "Have you ever done anything else other than that one commercial?" Ashley asked. "Because the business is tough, you know. I've been working for years and --"

  "You made a commercial, Ash?" her friend interrupted.

  "For the Pines, yeah," Ashley snapped.

  "But a national commercial?" the girl asked again.

  "You guys ready to play?" Hunter interrupted the increasingly awkward conversation at the perfect moment. I had almost forgotten he was standing nearby the whole time. Now he knew my dirty little secret. Hunter had the dodgeball under his arm and he was grinning at me.

  "Yes!" I said a little too loudly.

  "Great," Hunter said. "I like a newbie who's ready for action." I tried not to blush.

  Ashley and the girls dispersed after that, and I walked onto the field and continued to stare at Hunter and his cute, tight butt, covered in navy nylon shorts, as he walked in front of me. "Hunter, wait! Time!" A girl on the other team said and waved him over to talk. I stared at Hunter's bare, sweaty back as he ran. That's when I heard a low groan.

  "Oh no. I know that look," a guy next to me said.

  I looked left, then right, and then realized the guy was talking to me. "What look?" I asked him before I actually turned to face him, which was probably good considering he was beyond cute. He had slightly curly short brown hair that fell in his blue eyes and he reminded me of a Jonas Brother -- tall, thin, and dark-haired. He was wearing red nylon shorts and a white t-shirt that was already muddy. I could make out the outline of his toned abs and muscles through the slightly sheer shirt and I quickly looked away and then couldn't help looking back again.

  He gave me a sly grin, revealing a dimple in his right cheek. "The look that all the girls here get when they're falling for Hunter Thomas," he pointed out.

  I inhaled sharply. "I'm not falling for Hunter." I folded my arms. "I was actually looking at the other team. I'm just trying to scope out our competition."

  He laughed. "Whatever you say," he said. "I'm Cole, by the way, not that you'd notice when you're drooling over Hunter."

  "I wasn't drooling," I said, feeling a swell of indignation. I had no idea my Hunter infatuation was so obvious. What if Hunter overheard Cole? I'd seriously pass out right there and they'd have to play over me. "I do not like him, okay?" I seethed.

  Cole looked at me curiously. "Good," he said softly.

  Wait. What? "Why? I mean, what do you care?" I asked.

  Cole shrugged. "The truth is, a girl like you could do a lot better than Hunter."

  "What makes you say that?" I had to know.

  "Maybe I'm wrong, but you look normal. And nice." Cole said. He had an arrogant grin on his face that I wanted to wipe off. "Nice girls with potential acting careers have a lot more going for them than to spend their summer fawning over Hunter."

  "I'm not an actress," I pointed out. I guess Cole had overheard our conversation too. "I'm anything but."

  "You could be," Cole said. "People flipped for that commercial. I bet Hollywood came banging on your door."

  "They did," I admitted without thinking. I usually didn't tell people that. "But I wasn't interested. I'm not. I really don't." How did I explain it? "I'm not one for being the center of attention," I said. "I like to help people, and I like to get involved, but I don't really want to be the star." Wow. I had never really told a stranger that before.

  Cole shook his head. "I get it," he said, "but I have a feeling that you're going to be one around here. Hunter is going to be all over that."

  We both looked over at Hunter, who had finished talking to the girl from earlier and was now leaning on two short CITs, laughing. Why wasn't he starting the game already? I wanted all these awkward conversations over with. "Don't get me wrong," Cole added. "I like the guy. He's a decent friend to other dudes, usually, but to girls, well..."

  I was starting to feel defensive of my crush. "He's friendly," I said.

  Cole sighed. "He is friendly. Too friendly, and I feel it's my duty to warn you that he's also a major flirt and a serial dater. He loves hitting on CITs because he knows it will never go any further than that."

  I looked at Hunter again. I didn't see anything particularly flirty about him, even if he was talking to two CITs. Cole moved closer to me then and I took a step back. Wow, his eyes really were unreal. They were as blue as the cloudless sky, and he had long eyelashes that I would have killed for.

  "Don't fall for Hunter Thomas, okay?" Cole told me, sounding serious, instead of just teasing, like before.

  Em already told me we couldn't date counselors and besides, I hadn't come to camp to find a boyfrien
d. "Don't worry, I won't," I assured him.

  "Good." Cole looked satisfied. But why?

  "Game on!" Hunter yelled, interrupting my thoughts.

  I hadn't taken more than two steps to get into position when the unthinkable happened.

  BOOM!

  The dodgeball smacked me in the face, dizzying me. The next thing I knew, my flip-flops were slipping on mud. I tried to regain my balance, but like a movie in slow-motion I felt myself slide backward. I was falling into the muddy grass below me and I couldn't stop myself. I felt a sharp thud, then blinding pain in the back of my head. I closed my eyes before the dizziness could take over.

  What a way to make a first impression.

  2 Home Sweet Home?

  When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Hunter.

  "Hey, champ. That was quite a spill," he said as he leaned over me. "Are you functioning okay?"

  I tried to speak, but all I could manage was a gurgle. Everything came flooding back. I got hit in the face with the ball and wiped out. In front of all the counselors. I'd only been at camp for an hour and I'd already made a fool of myself. Hello, bad camp nickname! Everyone was going to call me Slipper or something stupid like that all summer. I just knew it.

  "Don't try to get up too fast," someone said, and I realized Cole was sitting next to me, cradling my head as he held an ice pack to it. He smiled down at me. "You hit your head on a rock. That must be some bump." It sure felt like it. The back of my head stung even with an icepack on it. I was suddenly aware that Cole's hands were on me and I struggled to get up. "Don't move. We're going to get the nurse," Cole instructed me.

  "Samantha! Are you okay?" Ashley was standing over me now, looking worried. "I'm so sorry. I threw the ball and I guess it went in the wrong direction."

  Their faces kept coming in and out of focus and I could barely hear them my head hurt so bad. "It's okay," I managed.

  "I'm just glad I didn't break your nose." Ashley clutched her chest.

  Someone nearby snorted, and I could make out an African American girl in a tight black tank laced with bright pink ribbon, and short denim shorts, sort of laughing. Everyone looked at her. "Come on. You guys don't believe her, do you?" she asked incredulously.

  "Nice, Courtney," Ashley pouted. "Trying to make the new girl hate me just because I accidentally hit her with the dodgeball."

  While the two of them argued, Hunter spoke to me softly. "Do you think you can get up, champ?"

  "Hunter, I think we should wait for the nurse," Cole said sharply.

  "I can get up," I said and struggled to get out of Cole's reach. But everything went blurry and I had to let Cole's hands catch me. "Whoa."

  "Cole's right, Hunter. She shouldn't walk right now," an older girl with brown hair and pretty gray eyes said. "Sam, I'm Alexis. I'm a senior counselor here. I think you should lie down and rest. We'll get you to your bunk. Your cabin is 8B."

  "That's with us!" Em said excitedly. I didn't realize she was here. So was Grace.

  "I think Meg, who is your bunk counselor, just got here so she's probably setting up her bunk," Alexis added. "I'll ask Nurse Nancy to stop down." I tried to lift my head again and Alexis grabbed my arm. "Don't move. You should be carried."

  "I'll do it," Cole and Hunter offered at the same time.

  NO WAY. "I can walk," I insisted, feeling my face get hot at just the thought of Hunter scooping me up and walking away with me, like a scene out of some romantic comedy I'd seen one too many times on TBS.

  "Hunter, you take her," Alexis said.

  I glanced at Cole and he gave me this weird sort of smirk. I looked away quickly.

  "Sam, just rest," added Alexis. "Everyone will be heading to their bunks for a break after lunch anyway. We'll send food to you."

  I was missing lunch? Not only was I late that morning, but now I had to miss more social time by being on the disabled list. Some first day it was turning out to be.

  "Okay," I said, feeling weird as Cole handed Hunter the icepack and Hunter effortlessly lifted me into his arms. He had put his shirt back on, thank God, a gray one that hugged his chest. I might have imagined it, but at that moment, I thought I heard a few girls sigh. Now that I was airborne Hunter's face was so close to mine I wasn't sure where to look. Instead, I stared ahead at Em, who winked as Hunter carried me away.

  This was awkward.

  What do you talk about when a guy who is cuter than Orlando Bloom is carrying you across a field of sunflowers to bring you to your new bedroom? Especially when you look like I did at the moment -- my face probably covered in dirt, mud all over my clothes and makeup melted off my face. I didn't even want to think about the weight issue. I always hated sitting on a guy's lap for a school group picture. And here was Hunter, having to carry me what felt like miles. My blush was never going to go away after this moment.

  "So, champ, you didn't tell me your name," Hunter said suddenly. He wasn't even huffing or puffing and we were heading up a hill, walking past several old, worn wood buildings with signs that said POTTERY, NEWSPAPER OFFICE, and ARTS AND CRAFTS. They were nestled between lots of large leafy trees that the sun was poking through, sending bursts of light everywhere. None of the buildings looked modern. As far as I could tell, most of them didn't even have air-conditioning. This wasn't meant to be a tour of camp, I know, but my first thought was that the place was really pretty in a rustic sort of way.

  I knew I told him my name earlier, but after all that happened, I wasn't surprised he'd forgotten it. "Sam," I said without looking at him. "Sam Montgomery."

  "I think I prefer champ," he told me. I snuck a glance at him. Hunter's face was all sweaty, in a cute way. I wasn't even sure what to say to that so instead I said, "I'm sorry you have to miss the start of lunch."

  "No biggie," Hunter said and shifted his hands under my body. His hand skimmed my butt when he did it and I couldn't help but jump slightly. "I'm sure Beaver -- that's our cook -- will make me a burger if they run out," Hunter added. "The most important thing is getting you back to your cabin in one piece. I'm sure no one's taught you how to ward off a wolf yet."

  "You have wolves?" I croaked. "The brochure didn't mention wolves."

  Hunter started to laugh. "I'm just kidding," he said and his hand closest to my arm tickled it slightly. "You should have seen your face!"

  "It's not funny," I insisted. For weeks, I had a recurring nightmare that they ran out of beds and I was forced to sleep in the middle of the woods where I was attacked by a family of wolves.

  "It's not funny," he repeated in a high voice. "I'm sorry. You're just adorable."

  Adorable? How could Hunter call me adorable? Baby chicks are adorable. Golden retriever puppies are adorable. Fifteen-year-old girls like me are sweet, or smart, or any number of adjectives I couldn't think of at the moment because my head was on fire. Hunter had stumped me for a response again.

  "Hey," he said, after he stopped laughing. "Look up there." He nodded toward the top of the hill and I could see what looked like several life-size wooden dollhouses. They were white with red porches and screen doors and red shutters. "That's what we call Candy Land," Hunter said. "Upper campus is where we house the senior campers, aka marshmallows, some counselors, and CITs. Lower campus, which we passed before, near the zip cord course, is dubbed Gumdrop Forest. That's where the peeps and pez sleep." He smirked. "That's where I sleep too. Senior counselors bunk with their charges and I've got peeps."

  "Peeps, pez, and marshmallows?" I repeated.

  Hunter grinned. "Cheesy, right? I know. They're all campers. Peeps are eight and under, pez are nine to eleven, and marshmallows are twelve to fourteen. The cabin division names are the only lame thing about Whispering Pines."

  I tried to memorize the categories, but it was hard with a throbbing head.

  "You'll get the hang of it." Hunter read my thoughts. "The most important thing you need to know is where I chill. That's the counselors' lounge." He nodded past the cabins and I saw a Swiss Alps-styl
e wood lodge, the roof touching the ground, forming a large triangle. The building was surrounded by a huge porch. "I'm sure you'll get to hang out there sometime, if we counselors like you enough."

  "I'm beginning to feel like I just parachuted into a foreign country and I don't speak the language," I admitted.

  "Well, first things first." Hunter headed up the steps of a cabin that had a sign that said 8B. "Let's introduce you to your home away from home." The white front porch was adorable with red-trimmed windows and a red roof and three cute blue rockers waiting to be rocked in. The place looked like the dollhouse I had when I was little. I used to spend all my Christmas money sprucing it up. One year I even retiled the roof with real miniature shingles. They only lasted a month before my cousin Cara pulled them off one by one, thinking they were dominoes.

  I reached out, since Hunter's hands were tied up, and pulled open the creaky screen door.

  "Meg!" Hunter yelled. "You've got your first injury."

  "What?" I heard a girl shriek. She ran out from the other room wearing a maroon Boston College tee and khaki shorts. She was pretty even with zero makeup, which let you see her freckles, and her blond hair was pulled casually into a loose ponytail.

  "This is the champ -- I mean Sam," Hunter corrected, giving me a lopsided grin. "She got slammed in the face by a dodgeball during the game and hit her head on the way down. Alexis wanted her to rest." He walked me over to the single in the room and gently placed me on it. I looked around. The room was full of black metal bunk beds, covered by saggy mattresses. The walls were made of -- surprise -- wood, that was decorated like the back of a bathroom stall. Etched everywhere were things like "Jess and Sara were here! 2006!" and "Kyle will love me 4EVR! -- Sue '08." The room smelled faintly like bug spray.

  "Are you okay?" Meg asked me worriedly. "I'm Meg Bauer, your bunk counselor. Do you want some ice? Something to eat? A magazine to read?" She looked around. "Your bags are probably in that pile over there." She pointed to a mound of duffels. I could sort of make out my oversized olive green sack on the bottom.

  "Thanks," I said gratefully. "But I think I'll just lie here."