Camp Payback (4 page)

Read Camp Payback Online

Authors: J. K. Rock

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Social Themes, #Dating & Relationships, #Camp Payback

BOOK: Camp Payback
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Emily nodded, and we strolled out into the soft purple twilight, following a painted, rock-lined path. An orange moon crested the horizon, a warm breeze off our baseball
Field of Dreams
carrying the crisp smell of freshly mown grass.

I kicked a stone aside, wanting all obstacles out of my way. This summer’s good times had to last me through the lonely months ahead at Madame’s School of Anguish and Self-Loathing. And nothing would stop my wild plans. Not even Vijay. Especially not Vijay. My mouth tingled as I remembered Javier instead. He had smelled good. Spicy enough to make me want another taste.

Could he be the leading man in my camp drama?

Of course there was the teensy problem of how he already seemed to hate my guts. Not to mention that staff (even sort-of staff) and camper hook-ups were strictly forbidden. No wonder he’d looked furious about the kiss. I’d gotten him in trouble, and by the sound of things, he was already on thin ice.

I pictured Javier’s sun-kissed complexion and thick-lashed, melt-your-heart brown eyes. Maybe he was exactly the
right
kind of boy for what I had in mind…if we didn’t get caught. The perfect candidate for a summer of fun and payback. A slow smile spread across my face.

Fingers snapped in front of my face as Emily pulled me to a stop. “Earth to Alex. Come in, Alex. Didn’t you say you wanted to hit arts and crafts?”

I looked up at the pine-sided building. “Oh. Yeah. I just need to fix up an outfit if we have time.”

Emily glanced at her oversized, plastic watch. “Will ten minutes do if I help?”

I gave her a quick hug, and we raced inside, my mind full of the changes I needed to make. “Thanks, Emily.”

A little later we were back on the path heading home, my wholesome kid look transformed with the help of a pair of scissors and quick-drying fabric glue.

“I hope that passes dress code.” Emily eyed my tank as it rode above my cut-offs’ waistband. “Didn’t think we meant to cut it that much. I’d like to stay on the camp director’s good side if I want to have any hope of him approving my field trip idea this summer.”

She winked and twirled, throwing an imaginary object—a baton, maybe—in the air and pretending to catch it.

“Field trip?” I hoped it involved something fun and not some stuffy museum.

“It’s a surprise,” she mouthed in a stage whisper. “Let’s hope Mr. Woodrow doesn’t see your shirt and nix the trip because he thinks I let you girls run wild.” She eyed my outfit again.

I pulled at the front of my shirt so I could read its twinkling red sequins spelling out “Sizzle.” It was exactly what I meant to do. At camp, if I wanted to burn red-hot all summer, then I would. I could kiss whom I wanted. Say what I wanted. There were no
Wholesome Home
limits on me here…as long as my parents weren’t called.

“I’ll throw a sweatshirt around my waist. Gollum will never know.” We’d given Mr. Woodrow the nickname forever ago when one of the boys had joked about him loving his whistle like His Precious. “Besides, we don’t have much time to change before the bonfire.”

“Right!” Emily brightened. “You need that time to spill the deets about what happened at registration. Plus you still have to meet your new cabin mate.”

I stopped to tighten a sandal strap. “What’s her name?”

“Yasmine.” Emily’s white smile gleamed in the deepening gloom as we resumed our walk down a smaller path leading to the girls’ cabins. “She’s amazing. You’ll love her. She just moved to Atlanta from Mumbai, and before that she lived in Amsterdam. Can you imagine? Her parents fund charities around the world.”

Wow. That did sound cool, though their good-will approach to life sounded a little too similar to my family. Hopefully Yasmine was fun instead of uptight.

When we neared our cabin, the familiar pine trees whispered to me like old friends. I wondered if Yasmine would like our camp. The most exotic we got were smiley-face pancakes on Sundays.

“There she is!” Emily pointed as our porch loomed. “Yasmine!”

The girl’s flawless brown skin made her white top seem to glow as she crossed to the birch-log railing. Her waving hand was as graceful as a ballerina.

“Hello, Emily.”

I trailed behind our counselor, sizing up this stranger. She was about my height, which was average, but she had about double my curves in every place I needed them. Gold hoops brushed her shoulders, peeking out from silky, flat-ironed hair. Her hooded, obsidian eyes were wide-set and large, bronze eye shadow contrasting with their dark color. Very, very cool. And exotic. Suddenly my “Sizzle” tank felt tacky instead of trendy.

“We just finished picking up those lanyards.” Emily turned and gestured to me. “And this is Alex. She used to be best friends with Lauren—the girl you replaced—so now you two can be B.F.F.s.”

Yasmine eyed me, her sculpted eyebrows rising. “Are you the girl who kissed the boy who knocked over Emily’s bracelet tree?”

I felt myself flush under her scrutiny but forced myself not to look away. Sure that was a dumb mistake. But who was she to judge? Finally, I nodded.

Her delicate nostrils flared, a glittering diamond stud making an appearance. She sniffed, gave me another once over, then turned and disappeared in the cabin without another word.

So much for B.F.F.s. Maybe we’d be B.E.F.s—best enemies forever.

“Friendly,” I drawled, following Emily up the stairs.

“Oh, she is. Her parents are travelling in Indonesia this summer and had to drop her off a day early. But instead of hanging out by the lake, she worked all day to help me finish up those lanyards and set up the display.” Emily held open the door. “Guess charitable acts run in her blood.”

“Emily!” called Bam-Bam from behind us. “Can I talk to you? It’s about the new kid, Javier.”

“Sure, babe!” she shouted, beaming at her guy before she turned back to me. “Go on in, Alex. The girls are anxious to see you, and you can get to know Yasmine better.”

“Saint Yasmine,” I murmured as I breezed inside, then raced past upended suitcases and strewn clothes for my bunk. But when I jumped on the familiar mattress, something felt wrong. My hand swept over the soft blue fabric covering it. This wasn’t my comforter…

Flared hips filled my line of sight, long, squared-off nails tapping on either side of them. “Are you trying to wreck my stuff?”

Yasmine.

What were her things doing on my bunk? My friends huddled on Jackie’s bed, their expressions throwing me silent apologies. My eyes narrowed on them. Traitors. Sure, Yasmine was new here, and we should be accommodating. Still, why hadn’t they defended my turf? I’d slept in this spot for seven years.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that I’d battled for my place in my overbearing family lots of times. I could deal with a pushy camper who would have made a perfect
Wholesome Home
kid. I was so not letting her buzzkill my summer.

“You’ve got the wrong bunk. This is mine.” When I stood, Yasmine didn’t step back, leaving about an inch of space between us.

“Girls,” Jackie warned, but we both ignored her.

I blew a bubble that nearly touched Yasmine’s nose.

Her earrings swung as she shook her head. “Your name wasn’t on it.”

Name? For all her travels, could this be her first time at a camp? Sharing a room? Didn’t she know the rules? New people checked with the old before claiming a bed. On top of everything—my parents, Vijay, the bad start to summer—this suddenly felt like too much.

I marched over to my suitcase, snapped it open, and pulled out my glittery pink “A.” Back at the bunk, I jammed the ribbon on a nail and watched it swing with satisfaction. There. Territory claimed.

“Happy now?” I looked around for my new nemesis and found her stretched out on my old mattress, a dimple appearing high on her left cheek as she smiled.

“That’s cute. My last name is Anderson. So it works for me. Though I don’t believe I’ve had anything pink and glittery like that since I was ten.”

Jackie got to her feet in that fluid, athletic way of hers and pulled me in for a hug. “It’s only a bunk. Hey, I missed you, Alex, and that’s what matters. We’re together.”

Trinity, another bunkmate, joined in the hug, her familiar, patchouli smell bringing tears to my eyes. This was the homecoming I’d wanted. Needed. Not hassle from Vijay, a week of punishment assigned before I’d finished out my first day, a new roommate-zilla, and a stranger whose kiss I couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Maybe it’s meant to be. Karma,” Trinity said in her faraway voice that reminded me of mystical lands and fairy tales. “Like a tree branch is supposed to come through that window and would have crushed you right there.” She pointed at Yasmine, then put a hand over her mouth. “Oops. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” said Yasmine. “My karma’s just fine.” She shot me a meaningful look.

“You have a nice aura.” Trinity nodded. Guess she didn’t notice Yasmine’s glare burning my soul to ash.

“Thanks.” Yasmine pulled out a necklace with a wooden elephant charm, its trunk pointing upward. “An Indian sadhu gave me this for good luck before we moved. So I’m all set.”

Trinity nodded like she knew exactly what a sadhu was…and maybe she did. At least she was trying, unlike me.

Suddenly I imagined Lauren at her NASA camp. What if one of her roommates treated her badly? I’d hate that. I needed to give Yasmine another chance. Girl fights were not part of my thrill ride summer plan.

I pulled out my lavender quilt and tossed it up on the top bunk. “Jackie’s right.” I forced a smile at the newest addition to Munchies’ Manor. “Yasmine—the bunk is yours.” My parents would have applauded—and blogged about how it was all thanks to their parenting—if they’d been here to witness.

Trinity’s mouth stretched wide. “Your aura just lightened, like, three shades, Alex. Now what happened with you and Vijay? We’ve only got a few minutes before the bonfire.”

Jackie hustled to the door. “I’ll watch out for Emily. Looks like she and Bam-Bam are still talking.”

Crap.

Really?

Did I honestly just get trapped into this tell-all?

I whirled toward my suitcase. “Later, guys. Got to find a sweatshirt. Plus I don’t want to miss out on good seats or the first chorus of ‘B-I-N-G-O.’” I raised my head and howled at the vaulted ceiling, my trademark addition to the song. No one laughed.

“Weren’t we just playing that game, Truth or Dare?” Yasmine drawled behind me. “Your cabin mates said it’s a first-day tradition.”

My hands froze, and I dropped my hoodie back in the suitcase.

“That’s right.” Siobhan clutched Yasmine’s arm like they’d been best friends since preschool. “And you were already dared to sing ‘Yankee Doodle’ on the porch. Now it’s your turn to pick the next person to truth or dare.”

“Perfect!” Yasmine’s eyes gleamed. “I choose Alex.”

……………….

Air rushed from me as I turned. Yasmine smirked from my bunk—her bunk—and tossed a piece of kettle corn in her mouth. I looked to my friends but saw curiosity mixed with sympathy. Crap. I was going to have to choose. And who knew what wild card Yasmine would dare me to do? I took a deep breath. Maybe this was for the best. They’d find out soon enough anyway.

“Truth.”

“Why would you kiss a boy you don’t know and get in trouble?” Yasmine asked, her dark eyes narrowed as if prepped to see through a fib.

I plunked down beside Siobhan and traced my finger along the hefty spine of her math textbook, imagining it flying at Yasmine’s smug, perfectly coiffed head. Despite the surging anger bubbling back to the surface, I kept my voice even. I mean, seriously, did she not sense how close I was to losing it?

“A—I didn’t mean to get in trouble and B—since when is kissing someone a crime?” I slid back and pressed my tense spine against the wooden cabin walls.

Yasmine swung her legs over the side of the bunk and crossed them like someone at a Parisian café. La-de-da. “You ruined Emily’s display. And you still didn’t answer my question.”

I popped another bubble, then looked to Siobhan. “I did so answer the question.”

Siobhan shook her head, her asymmetrical bob swishing across her cheeks. “Technically, you equivocated which means you evaded the question with a non-answer.”

“What?” I pinched the bridge of my nose at a sudden stab of pain. Siobhan was so smart she made my head hurt.

Actually, all the girls in Munchies’ Manor were brilliant in different areas. Mine was more in entertainment than academics, my goal to win a Broadway role rather than a Harvard scholarship.

“Come on, Alex. Just answer the question.” Jackie peered out the door, then dodged a Nerf football Trinity chucked her way.

“Exactly.” Yasmine held up a brush and gestured for Piper to join her.

Who asked Yasmine anyway? And why was Piper hurrying to her side? My fingernails dug into my palms.

“Fine. I kissed him because I wanted to make Vijay mad.”

Siobhan pushed up her slipping glasses and peered at me. “What happened? Last summer you were so into him.”

“Now, I hate him.” The words burst out of me. “He dumped me after you guys left last summer…right before the last bus took us to the airport. He called me a prude because I wouldn’t, um, you know…” My eyes flew around the room.

Siobhan’s eyes widened. “Because you didn’t hook-up?”

“As in
go all the way?”
breathed Piper.

“Aren’t you a little young for that?” Yasmine’s hands stilled over Piper’s hair, a nearly finished French braid angling diagonally across her head.

Saint Yasmine strikes again. Piper grinned ear to ear as she ran her hands over her new style, Trinity looked awestruck, and Jackie and Siobhan nodded at the old-fashioned logic. They already worshiped her, and I felt branded with a scarlet letter “A”—or a pink glitter one at least.

“Some girls are married at my age,” I pointed out, just to be contrary.

Yasmine secured Piper’s hair with a clip and frowned at me. “Unfortunately true. In some countries I’ve visited, girls marry as young as twelve. You should be happy that you are free to be a girl as long as you want. Free to do everything a guy can do.”

“Whatever,” I said, knowing how annoying I sounded but unable to help it. Her little holier-than-thou act was driving me up the cabin wall. She could have been quoting one of my parents’ books. Ugh.

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