Friends ForNever (12 page)

Nicole rolled her eyes like she couldn't believe my reaction. “Of course. You know I didn't mean it. I'm glad everyone has made up now. Honestly.”

I took a deep breath. I didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing. “Okay. No more fights—that's all I'm saying.”

“I hear ya,” said Sarah.

“Me too,” Nicole said, giving me a playful bump with her hip. “We promise that from now on, everyone in Cabin Three will be one big, happy family.”

I smiled back at her. “Sounds good to me!”

We had just come back from a three-mile hike to Lookout Point. We were hot, exhausted, and dirty, but the hike had been worth it for the great views.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I told Nicole. “I know hiking isn't really your absolute favorite activity.”

“Well, maybe not my favorite, but it was fun,” she said. Lately she'd been a really good sport about doing the stuff I wanted to do. Tomorrow I'd make sure we did something she liked.

We were walking down Middler Line when we saw Claudia heading our way. “Hey! I am so glad I found you. You have a visitor waiting in the cabin for you.”

“A visitor?” I asked. “Who is it?”

“She says she's Nicole's neighbor. She's pretty upset about something. I was just coming to look for you guys.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said.

Even before we walked in the door, we could hear the sobs through the window screens. We walked in to find Mary Claire all alone in our cabin, sitting on Nicole's bed and crying her eyes out.

“What's wrong?” I asked. Nic and I both sat across from her on my bed.

“Alyssa. She's being so mean to me,” she managed to get out between sobs. From the looks of it, she'd been in here crying for a while.

“What's she doing to you now?” asked Nicole.

“Well, she . . . she threw my pillow on the roof of the cabin!” Mary Claire wailed. “And then she said
I
did it—that I was sleepwalking, and that
I
was the one who put it up there! But I know I didn't do it. I don't sleepwalk, do I?” she asked, like she needed Nicole's reassurance to convince herself.

“No, of course you don't sleepwalk. She's just a vicious little brat.”

“What did your counselor say about this?” I asked.

“She helped me get my pillow off the roof. She knocked it down with the broom handle.”

“Is that all?” I asked. So far I hadn't been too impressed with the way this particular counselor supervised her cabin. It seemed like a lot of stuff was going on that she either wasn't aware of or maybe she just didn't care about.

“She told us to be nice to each other and respect other people's property.” In between talking to us, Mary Claire sniffled and chewed on the edge of her shirt. It was a weird habit, but it seemed to comfort her a little.

“Like that's going to help,” scoffed Nicole. She looked directly at Mary Claire. “You want Darcy and me to take care of this problem for you?” I glanced at her, not sure exactly what she was volunteering me to do.

Mary Claire nodded. She reminded me of a puppy with an old sock in its mouth.

“Okay. We will.” Nicole stood up. “Let's go find Alyssa. We'll straighten her out.” Her eyes were flashing with anger, and her mouth was set in a thin line.

I didn't move from my spot. “Ah . . . how? What are we going to do?”

“We will teach her the meaning of the word ‘respect,' said Nic, half-jokingly, half-threateningly.

I shook my head. “That won't work. We can't threaten the kid.” I thought about all my failed efforts to deal with Alyssa. And how stubborn she'd been with Libby. She wasn't easily ignored or intimidated. That strategy might work with some little kids, but not this one.

“Sure we can!” Nic rubbed her palms together eagerly. Mary Claire had stopped crying and now she sat and watched us, sniffling quietly.

“Look, I'm not saying I wouldn't enjoy throwing
her
on the cabin roof. I just don't think that threats are going to work. We have to think about this—figure out how to get her to be nice for a change.”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “There's not an ounce of
nice
in that little monster. She wants to bully someone? Well, bring it on! We'll let her know that she'll get worse than she gives if she doesn't lay off Mary Claire.”

“No, if we do that, she'll just . . . dump all of Mary Claire's clothes in the lake. Where's it going to end?” I looked at Mary Claire. “You can't do anything to get back at her. You need to take the high road.”

Nicole snorted. “The high road? Where'd you hear that expression?”

I'd heard it from Paul. He used it a lot. Anytime someone honked at him, Blake begged him to give it right back. But Paul wouldn't.
Take the high road
, he'd tell us calmly.

“Everyone's heard that expression.” I picked up my pillow and clutched it to my stomach. “If Mary Claire tries to get back at her, or if we do it for her, it'll just make Alyssa that much meaner.”

Nic sat down on the bed beside me, obviously disgusted that we weren't going to go threaten a little eight-year-old girl. “We can't let her push Mary Claire around!”

“I know.” I had to think about this. “Why were you friends with Alyssa anyway?” I asked.

“Because she's in my cabin. Her bed's above mine.”

That whole “you're friends with whoever's nearby” thing again. “That can't be the only reason. Why Alyssa instead of the other girls in your cabin?”

Mary Claire gave this some thought. “Well, Alyssa started talking to me. She asked me what activities I was going to, and then we went together. That's why I liked her. And she liked me because I was nice to her.”

Nicole raised her eyebrows. “No. She liked you because she could push you around.”

“No, she didn't!” I said suddenly. “She liked
pushing
you around
. She didn't like
you
. And she didn't like you because she didn't respect you.” I pointed to Nicole. “You're right. Teach her the meaning of the word ‘respect'!”

Nic looked at me like I was delirious. “What are you talking about?”

“Think about it! Sure, I would love it if someone jumped every time I snapped my fingers, but I wouldn't really like the person.” I turned to Mary Claire. “You think you're being nice to Alyssa when you act like her servant, but then she has no respect for you. You can be nice to her, but don't let her push you around. That's how you'll earn her respect.”

“Darcy, can I say something without hurting your feelings?” said Nic.

I looked at her cautiously. “I guess so.”

“I know you mean well and everything, but you're not very good at giving people advice. That's really more my department.”

“Oh, really?” I tried not to be offended, but that was a pretty blunt thing to say.

“Look, don't get mad. I'm trying to help Mary Claire,” said Nicole calmly.

“Well, so am I! What do you think she should do?” I asked helplessly.

“I think
we
ought to let that little munchkin know that if she doesn't leave Mary Claire alone, she'll have to answer to us.”

I clenched my teeth. “That won't work! Remember the lake? I think she threw the towel in mostly to get back at us instead of Mary Claire.”

“Okay then.” Nicole patted Mary Claire's hand. “You be nice to your little friend and all your wildest dreams will come true.”

“I could give her my peach cobbler,” said Mary Claire.

Nic and I looked at each other, confused by this totally random statement. “Um, okay,” I said.

“One time I gave her my peach cobbler. I'm allergic to peaches, so I gave her mine. She was really happy. She didn't expect it.”

I smiled. “So she didn't say, ‘Hey, Spud. Give me your peach cobbler,' that time, huh?” We all had a laugh over that. “Good idea. Let's think of other things you can do to be nice to her.”

“I didn't mind making her bed. I'm taller than she is. She can't reach the top bunk like I can. But then after I helped her, she told me to empty the trash too. That was her job that day. I didn't want to, but I wanted her to like me.”

“See, that's the difference! It's okay to be nice to her, but don't let it cross over so that she's using you.” I thought about it for a second. “Tomorrow morning, why don't you offer to make her bed? Tell her you want to help her out, since it's harder for her to do it than it is for you. But tell her you won't do any other chores for her. And if she starts being mean, the favors stop.”

“Perfect! That'll solve everything,” said Nic mockingly.

“Maybe you could pick her some wildflowers . . . or make her something in crafts,” I went on, ignoring Nic's remark. I saw my pot holder lying on the shelf beside my bed. “Here. Give her this pot holder. Tell her you made it for her in Crafts Cabin and it's a token of your friendship.” I tossed the pot holder to Mary Claire.

“Hey!
I
made that for
you
as a token of
our
friendship. And you just give it away like it means nothing to you.” Nic turned her head away and tilted her nose up, trying to snub me, but I could see that she was trying not to laugh.

Mary Claire looked at us. “Okay. I think I remember what to do. One, I'll make her bed. Two, I'll give her my peach cobbler the next time we have it. And three, I'll give her this pot holder. Then she'll like me.”

Nicole let out a sputtering laugh. “You do all those things and you'll be BFFs before you know it!” Then I started giggling too. I had to admit, it sounded pretty ridiculous.

“Darcy's Three-Step Guide to Turning All Your Enemies to Friends!” Nic laughed. We were really cracking up now. The sight of Mary Claire sitting there holding my pot holder and watching us just made us laugh even more.

“Should I give her my banana pudding too?” she finally asked. That question made us scream with laughter. I sat up and looked at her, trying to get a grip on myself. Nic was gasping for breath.

“This is what you need to remember. Tell her that you're going to be nice to her, so you expect her to be nice to you. Don't let her boss you around. If she's mean to you, don't do mean things back. And if all else fails, try the banana pudding!”

The rising bell hadn't even rung when we heard the knock at the door. Then the screen door was pushed open and Madison Abernathy, one of the CATs, peeked around it. “Darcy Bridges?”

Even though I'd been half-asleep when I heard the knock, hearing my name made me sit bolt upright in bed. Why was Madison coming to our cabin so early, looking for me? “That's me,” I managed to squeak.

“You have a phone call in the office.” Then Madison closed the door softly, and we could hear her walking back down Middler Line.

My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped working. I sat in the exact same position, staring at the screen door where Madison's face had been.

Eda, the camp director, told our parents to avoid calling unless there was an emergency. They could write or e-mail us every single day if they wanted to, but phone calls could supposedly make us homesick. In my three years at Pine Haven I'd never once gotten a phone call. Never. I could feel Nicole looking at me from her cot, but I couldn't move.

“Darcy? You'd better hurry, hon. Whoever it is must be waiting on the line.” Libby got out of bed and reached for her robe hanging from a hook on the wall.

Sarah sat up and looked around groggily. “What time is it?”

“Seven thirty. You girls stay in bed till the bell rings.” Libby came over to my bed. “Are you cold, sweetie? Get dressed and I'll go to the office with you.”

I realized I was shaking like crazy. But it wasn't because I was cold. As soon as Madison had said my name, I knew what the phone call was about—my dad.