Camp Boyfriend (2 page)

“Semi-gloss is inappropriate for church. Do you want to look like a lady or a roadhouse tramp?” Appearances mattered to Mom, especially in front of her Dallas socialite friends. It was part of the reason she’d made me over when we’d moved. If Dad hadn’t been so preoccupied, he would have put a stop to the eyebrow waxing and hair highlights, insisting, as he used to, that I was fine just the way I was. And I’d believed him until he disappeared into his work the way stars vanished under Houston’s bright glare.

“Maybe I won’t walk down the aisle at all.” Kellianne’s voice sounded teary.

“Oh hush now. Every bride gets the jitters. And at two hundred and fifty dollars a plate we can’t afford them. Why do you think your father’s working so hard? Here’s a tissue.”

I set down my school bag, stepped out of my Keds, and slid across the foyer’s marble floor toward our curved oak staircase.

Hershey, our chocolate lab, lounged at the top of the landing, her square head resting between her paws. Her ears pricked up as I tiptoed upward. I put my finger to my lips and shook my head, hoping she’d understand my plea for silence. No way was I getting dragged into another round of endless debates about seating charts, floral arrangements, music choices, picture locations, cake flavors, entree options…the list grew longer by the day. It didn’t matter that Kellianne had a wedding planner. Mom said the day should have the Carlson family “stamp” on it, and that meant we all played a part.

But I had my own problems to deal with, ones a little more important than deciding if Kellianne looked better in ecru or eggshell. Like there was a difference. Besides, everything looked good on my blonde bombshell sister, something she’d loved flaunting in my plain Jane face until I’d started wearing makeup and upgraded to a C cup bra.

Hershey’s tail thumped as I avoided the squeaky left side of the tenth stair.
Please, please Hershey
, I begged silently, knowing she’d demand a belly rub before letting me pass. She rolled over, round stomach and tongue protruding. She really was cute. Annoying. But cute. I smoothed her short fur and tickled her under the chin. Three more steps and I’d be in my room and home free.

“Woof!”

I whirled and frowned at her wriggling body. Her backside lifted while her front legs pressed to the floor. Great. She was ready to play while I needed to escape Wedding Alcatraz.

“Hush.” I grabbed her favorite play toy, Turtle, and threw it down the stairs. She barked and bounded after it, skidding like Bambi when she hit the polished floor.

“Lauren, honey, is that you?”

I shut my eyes. So close to a clean getaway.

“Lauren!” Kellianne shouted. “Come look at this lipstick and tell me what you think.”

Frantic for an excuse, I blurted, “I’ve got to finish my NASA Aerospace Scholars application.”

“It’s not due until September. Besides you can’t send it in until your father gets Congressman Owens’ letter of recommendation,” Mom yelled. My hand gripped the banister. Would Dad remember that promise? It seemed about as low on his list of priorities as I was.

“Hurry, this is more important,” Mom added.

Lip color was more important than studying with some of the world’s top scientists? Hershey mimicked my snort. Maybe in Mom and Kellianne’s world. But not in mine. Of course, what I wanted didn’t seem to matter. My life was in orbit around everyone else’s. I could be in a coma and they’d be at my hospital bed with color swatches.

I’d hoped to curl up in bed with a good book, distract myself from doubts about tonight’s social suicide plan. Just the thought made my heart skitter along my ribs like a trapped spider. Now I’d have to endure an afternoon discussing lace versus tulle, roses versus calla lilies, and chicken versus fish. At least beef was a given. In Texas, a wedding without steak wasn’t even legal.

Resigned, I slumped back down. Next week I’d be at camp, away from Bridezilla’s clutches. My chest loosened, letting me draw my first easy breath of the day. I could practically smell the Smoky Mountain evergreens and Seth’s outdoorsy scent. This week would go by in a snap if I could stay focused on that.

I hurried into the kitchen to see if Dad had dropped off the reference letter—he hadn’t—and grabbed a glass of sweet tea to console myself. Hopefully he’d give it to me before I left for camp. Getting the application in early meant I had a better chance of making it into the competitive online and weekend program.

In the living room, my mother and sister sat on the couch, their blonde heads bent over a magazine.

“Use a coaster, Lauren,” Mom ordered without looking up from a shot of a pouting bride, her peach lips shining. “And not a good one—get the crocheted ones Aunt Flo gave us for Christmas.”

“Do we really have to invite her, Momma?” Kellianne twisted her ring. “Remember how she was at the engagement party—reading auras and talking about crystal powers. What if she brings her Tarot cards and predicts my marriage won’t last?”

“Is that her guess or yours?” My smile faded when Kellianne covered her face. Crap. Sometimes my sister seemed as armored as a rhino and other times as thin-skinned as the tissue she held to her nose. I leaned over and gave her a quick hug. “Hey. I’m kidding. You and Andrew are great. I’ll ask her to read my future. It’ll keep her off your back, okay?”

My sister nodded as I plopped in a deep-cushioned chair and gulped my lemon-flavored tea. My nose curled at the smell of clashing perfumes wafting from the bridal magazine. Even bug spray would be better. Kellianne’s glistening blue eyes flew to mine.

“She’ll probably warn you that you won’t keep Matt looking like that.” She shook her head at the broken-in jeans and rumpled Batman tee I’d rescued months ago from a ‘To Donate’ bag of my old clothes. Today had seemed like the perfect day to resurrect my former look. “Don’t you want to be at Matt’s side when he joins his daddy’s business?” Kellianne pressed her acrylic nails into her temples. “They own the biggest car dealership in town, and while that’s not in the same class as
Andrew’s
business, it’s still decent.”

Kellianne’s fiancé was Andrew Jackson Buford III, heir to the state’s biggest cattle ranch and as close to Texan royalty as we got. They’d met at Texas A&M University, where she’d earned her Environmental Science degree and an engagement ring. My sister was actually no slouch in the brains department, and it still surprised me that she’d agreed to give up her dream job when they’d set the wedding date.

“I’m going to be too busy discovering our cosmic roots and revealing humanity’s place in the universe to worry about that, Kellianne.” Ice cubes clanked as I swirled my straw.

My sister rolled her eyes. “Are you still in that astronaut phase? Do you want to be a princess when you grow up, too?”

“Girls,” my mother warned. “Can we focus?”

I ground my teeth, mad I’d let Kellianne bait me. Charity events, country club dinners, and junior league socials might suit Kellianne, but they were definitely not in the cards for me, Tarot or otherwise. I wanted to explore planets glimpsed on mathematical charts, orbit the world rather than rule it, discover places I’d yet to imagine.

“Fine. What do you think, Lauren?” Kellianne pointed at the picture, puffing her full lips out like the model. “Is semi-gloss trashy or classy?”

My mother raised her plucked eyebrows and flared her nostrils.

“Ummmm,” I stalled, not sure which answer would please them both. “How about a matte lipstick for church, then switch to the same color in semi-gloss for the reception?”

Smiles broke out across both their faces. Bingo. Another epic wedding crisis avoided. One down, a thousand more to go…

“Thanks, Lauren.” Mom squeezed my hand. “We can always count on you.”

I wondered if she’d feel the same way after tonight. Her values were traditional and she’d always stood by her man. Would she be okay with me breaking up with Matt?

Like Dad, my mother had earned a geology degree from Cornell. But when the college offered him a professorship, she stopped looking for a job, married him, and become the perfect housewife and mother. Not that I faulted her choice, but I’d caught her watching the National Geographic Channel many times, and I knew she maintained her membership in the Geological Society of America, and read its monthly magazine the day it arrived. When we’d returned to her wealthy parents’ hometown and had an easy in with their oil company as a consultant, I noticed she’d seemed happy to put her skills to use. I wondered if a part of her wished she’d chosen a different path long ago.

“I’m rethinking that tiara, Kellianne. It doesn’t have nearly enough crystals.” Mom flipped a page and studied another bride.

Then again, maybe not.

They debated headpieces that wouldn’t flatten Kellianne’s hair while I self-consciously fluffed my straight, auburn-streaked brown locks. This morning, I’d skipped the hairspray that normally kept it at acceptable Texan standards—meaning fuller than a small shrub.

Seth used to tug on my ponytail whether it was wet from the lake, sticky from bug spray, or dusty after a hike. He’d called me a natural beauty, despite my glasses and braces.

What would he think of me now? Uncertain of how Seth or my bunkmates would view the new me, I hadn’t posted any recent pictures to my Camp Juniper Point Facebook account. I had a separate account in the camp group that was visible only to campers, allowing me to keep my school and camp worlds apart.

As if sensing my attention had wandered, Kellianne narrowed her gaze at me over the magazine. “What am I going to do without you this summer? Momma, can’t you make her stay?”

My heart stopped. What if Mom agreed? I’d missed camp, and Seth. After a year of trying to fit in—succeeding on the outside, but failing on the inside—I understood that he and I shared something special. Since he was a year older than me, it was our last summer together and my only chance to make our relationship year-round. I had to go. I would walk there if I had to.

“We’ve gone over this.” Mom tucked a loose strand back in her updo. “The wedding planner will handle the big issues. Then, Lauren and I will assist you with things that need a more personal touch.” She handed Kellianne a tissue. “No need to get upset. Remember, we made that list for Lauren.”

List? What list? I was looking forward to hanging out with my old friends and Seth. Speaking of which, I still hadn’t responded to his email.

Kellianne unfurled a piece of paper as long as my arm. For a moment I fantasized about it fluttering over the side of a canoe and disappearing into the depths of western North Carolina’s Nantahala River. Preferably while Seth paddled me around, his muscles flexing as he worked with his oar. Would he remember the meteor shower we’d planned to watch this summer?

“Here are some things I need you to do.” Kellianne waved the paper under my nose and reeled off a list about bridal party gifts, place cards, and thank-you notes. My heart sank. Even ten states away, I’d still be her wedding slave. Sure. I’d have plenty of time to fit all that in around five camp activity periods a day. Maybe I could address the shower notes while rock climbing, or write out her place cards on a whitewater rafting trip.

“Fine. Got it.” I snatched the list but halted my headlong rush out of the room when a thought occurred. “Is Dad going to be home for dinner?”

Mom’s face fell into disappointed lines. “Something came up on one of the oil rigs, so he flew down this afternoon to supervise.”

Emptiness rose at the thought of another evening without Dad. What did that make it? Eight, nine days without a family dinner? I understood that his new job was demanding, but it was like he’d forgotten he had a home too. Forgotten about me. He used to be my wall of support. Now he was a shadow that flitted in and out of my life. “He’ll be back before I leave for camp, right? To say goodbye?”

Kellianne and Mom exchanged a long look, and then Mom cleared her throat. “I’m sure he’ll do his best, dear.”

I trudged upstairs to my room, heart heavy, and closed my door behind me. A picture of Dad and me in front of Manhattan’s Hayden Planetarium caught my eye. Our grins were as bright as the IMAX show we’d watched while Kellianne and Mom shopped on Fifth Avenue. Back then, we’d all had clear priorities and alliances.

I pushed away thoughts of Dad, grabbed my laptop, and sat cross-legged in the middle of my canopied bed. While the computer whirred to life, I glanced at my open closet, wondering what I’d pack for camp. Would Seth recognize me wearing designer labels and carrying a Gucci backpack?

His email popped up on my homepage.

7 days until the bonfire and our FKOC

Our First Kiss of Camp. Just the phrase made my heart race. We’d started the tradition two years ago when we’d snuck away during a bonfire sing-a-long. While a rousing chorus of
John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt
sounded behind us, we’d sat on the dock, swinging our legs over the inky waters. I remember the electric feel of his skin every time his calf touched mine, the jittery sensation in my stomach that made me babble about different types of meteors… Being that close made it impossible to focus on anything but us. And he must have felt the same way because he had cupped my cheek, bringing me closer until our lips brushed as softly as a moth’s wings. After five years in the friend zone, we’d reached official boyfriend-girlfriend status, at least for that summer and the one after that.

I flopped back on my pillow and pulled a picture of Seth from my nightstand drawer. I traced his short, sandy blonde curls and looked into his amber eyes. I loved the way they lit up whenever he saw me. Would they still glow when I told him about Matt? Not that I should feel guilty. Seth and I agreed to break up at the end of every summer and get back together the next year. It was his idea, in fact. No pressure, he’d said. But for me it was. I was tired of the two months on, ten months off schedule.

I touched my finger to my lips and then to Seth’s picture. After I cleared my conscience and broke up with Matt, I’d answer his email.

To have the summer of my dreams, I’d have to survive the worst night of my life.

Chapter Two