"Well, my knight in shining armor duty is over," Hunter said, bowing slightly. "I guess I'll see you at dinner, champ."
"Thanks, Hunter," I said awkwardly.
Meg sat down at the edge of my bed and waited for the screen door to slam behind him. "I have a feeling you're the envy of every CIT girl here right now," she said with a grin. "I could name a dozen girls who would kill for alone time with Hunter Thomas."
I blushed. I didn't know why the topic of boys was so foreign to me. I guess my lack of boyfriends was part of the answer. "He's really nice," I said.
"We'll see if you still think that way halfway through the summer," she said wryly. "That's the trouble with being the newbie. You don't know everyone yet. But I'm sure you'll catch on. Do you have any questions so far?"
"A million," I laughed. "But I guess Hitch will go over everything at orientation."
Meg nodded. "The most important stuff you'll pick up quickly. The camp is co-ed, which you know, and we have about 250 campers, most of which stay the whole seven weeks. Each bunk has six to eight campers and one counselor and either a CIT or a junior counselor. By the end of your third day here, Hitch will assign each CIT to a senior counselor. You'll work with that person all summer taking care of that one group of campers. You'll spend two sessions a day with them, and have occasional kitchen duty, but for the most part you'll still get to have regular camper privileges."
Meg went over more camp logistics -- what the canteen was (the snack shack), what food to avoid (tuna salad was awful), and the best camp activity to sign up for (she swore by the hiking group that got to take an overnighter). Before we knew it, the nurse was there to bring me a plate of food (a hamburger with all the fixings and fruit salad) and check my head. ("Just a nasty bump," she decided, and handed me some packets of Tylenol.) Before I knew it, the screen door was bursting open and a group of girls was racing toward the bunk beds.
"I call this one!" I heard Grace yell as she zipped past me. "Em, I have our bunk!"
Ashley and two others ran by. One I recognized as the spunky girl who had the nerve to take on Ashley at the dodgeball game, and another I didn't recognize: tall, thin, dark tan, big chest, tiny waist, with perfectly curly, long light brown locks -- looked like a model, too. The three of them stopped short at my bed.
"Did you already claim the single?" The brunette supermodel-in-training asked me icily.
"Gabby, I'll handle this," Ashley told her. She grinned. "I usually get the single," she said. "I don't know if anyone told you, but I'm the camp director's daughter, and the single usually goes to me."
"Give it a rest, Ashley," snapped the fiery girl, pulling angrily on the pink ribbon of her tank top. "You use that excuse every year. You're a camper just like the rest of us. It doesn't mean you automatically get the only single every season."
"Sam was here first," Meg tried to intervene kindly, but the way Ashley and the supermodel girl were looking at me, like I had a huge red bull's-eye on my forehead, made me instantly want to move. I hated being the cause of tension.
"That's okay," I said quickly. "I prefer a top bunk anyway."
The minute I slid off the bed, the three of them dove on top of the mattress. Ashley was on the bottom and she screamed triumphantly. "I was here first!" she said, sounding like a three-year-old. "This is mine."
Her friend dove on the bunk next to the bed, her chest cushioning her fall. "I call lower bunk! And since we're short one girl in here, this bunk is mine alone."
The African American girl with short brown hair, whose attitude was growing on me, looked disgusted. "Nice one, Gabby. I wouldn't do upper bunk again this year anyway. You snore." She looked at me and smiled. "I guess I'm going to be your bunkmate." She extended her hand. "Courtney, but you can call me Court," she said with a smile, and then leaned over and whispered in my ear. "To be honest, I didn't want the single. I just like watching Ashley squirm." I tried not to laugh.
"You're lucky you're with us, Sam," said Court as she looked over her shoulder at Ashley. "8A is super cliquish and they're stuck with Sara for a head counselor. She snores. Loud. Sort of like a few people in here." Ashley and Gabby glared at her.
"Girls, I'll give you a half hour to set up and then we can chat," Meg told us. "I'm just in the other room if you need me." Meg looked at me. "I share a room with Sara, 8A's head counselor. Our room bridges the two cabins." I nodded.
The other girls dove for their duffels and started pulling things out quickly. Within minutes, Ashley and Gabby were fighting over where to hang their Jonas Brothers poster -- over Ashley's bed, or Gabby's bunk. Em was stacking what looked like romance novels on a shelf above her top bunk and the whole shelf looked like it was going to come crashing down at any moment. Below, Grace was hanging these inspirational sports posters that said things like COURAGE and BELIEVE IN RAW WILL.
Court laid her bright yellow comforter on the bed and fluffed a pair of royal blue pillows. They had bright shiny stars all over them. Then she started to decorate the wall behind our bunk with hot guys from every ad I'd ever seen in a magazine and a Chris Brown poster, and filled her half of the stacked egg crates next to our bed with US Weeklys and Cosmos.
How come all I brought was my dated jade comforter and my drab brown trunk? Everyone else was decorating with millions of cool stickers from camp, bands, and their schools. I made a mental note to call Mom and tell her to send some Carle Place stickers, Orlando Bloom pictures, and Magnolia Bakery cupcakes in her first care package so that I had some sugar to bargain with around here. Since I hadn't brought any decorations, the only thing I had to do was make my bed.
"Has everyone met Sam?" Ashley asked. "Gabby, you haven't, right?"
"Hey," Gabby said unenthusiastically, and looked at Ashley out of the corner of her eye. Gabby was just as pretty as Ashley, but in a more California-girl kind of way. She was wearing terrycloth shorts that had the word sweet embroidered across the bottom in hot pink, which matched her belly-baring tank top. Suddenly I wished we had to wear camp uniforms. We only had to wear our red Pines counselor tees on a few special occasions.
"So, Sam, other than the fact you're the Dial and Dash Phone girl, we don't know anything about you." Ashley was sitting on her fluffy comforter. "What camp did you go to last year?"
"Warning," Court whispered to me. "Watch your back."
"I haven't been to camp before," I said uncomfortably.
"Never?" Ashley's eyes opened wide. I shook my head, aware that everyone in the room's eyes were on me.
"Then how did you get picked to be a CIT?" Grace asked, sounding more than a bit miffed.
"I applied online and Hitch called me and did a lengthy interview," I explained. "I had to fax him all these recommendations from teachers and people I babysat for."
"So you got picked even though you've never done anything to prepare for being a CIT?" Grace looked baffled. "I thought Hitch had a strict system for picking his CITs. I wrote a thousand-word essay on my merits when I handed in my application."
Essay? What essay?
"That's because you're a psycho overachiever, Grace." Court rolled her eyes. "Hitch didn't even ask for an essay."
"Your campers are going to eat you alive," Gabby snorted. "They can spot someone who doesn't know what she's doing from across the lake."
"So what if Sam's never been to camp before?" Em sounded defensive and I couldn't help but smile at her gratefully. "Maybe she'll be better at this CIT thing than any of us because camp is all new to her." She turned to me and smiled. "I've only been coming here for five summers. Before this I went to Bellcrest, but they were super cliquish. The Pines is much friendlier. You're going to love it."
"Okay, lame-o, we get it, you want her to be part of your geek squad," Gabby said, sounding beyond bored. Then there was a knock on our cabin door. A group of girls walked in and rushed over to Ashley, talking a mile a minute about clothes, bunk groupings, and some sort of party they were all keyed up over. Each girl was prettier than the
next.
"Do you think you'll get to have another sleepover at the ranch this summer?" a girl with a midriff-baring top asked.
"Absolutely," Ashley said. "I can only invite twelve girls, of course, but everyone will be considered."
I looked over at Court, confused, and she whispered in my ear. "Ashley has this invite-only sleepover at her dad's ranch, on the property, for her birthday every summer. Girls get desperate to be invited because then it means they're on Ashley's accepted list." She rolled her eyes. "Lucky them."
A girl who looked like Barbie stared at me. "Hey, you're the CIT who is in that Dial and Dash Phone commercial, right?" She walked toward me and the others followed. "That guy who played your boyfriend in the commercial was so hot and --"
"Guys?" Ashley interrupted. "I don't mean to be rude, but we have to finish unpacking. Catch you at dinner?"
As they filed out, I heard Court gasp. "I forgot! Everyone hide your cell phones," she warned as she started flinging even more clothes out of her bag looking for her phone.
"Meg will find it," said Em. "She can find anything. She once found the stash of chocolate I stuck below a cut-out in the floorboard. I wasn't allowed to go to the canteen for a week. She was so mad. She said I could have given the bunk termites."
"Why can't you have a cell?" I asked. I had to find a good spot to hide my video camera. I could go without my cell phone, but I was not giving up my palmcorder.
"No cells. It ruins the camp experience," said Grace without a hint of irony. "Camp would be lame if everyone was walking around with phones all the time."
"You are such a purist, Grace," laughed Court. "Sam, I hate to break it to you, your cell phone is a goner, but don't worry, you can use mine."
"Meg isn't taking yours?" I wondered.
"She's taking what she thinks is mine." Court held up a Voyager. "I'm giving in my old phone, which still works, and keeping my new one on me at all times."
"Nice," Em said with admiration. "Wish I'd thought of that."
"I'll let you eat up some minutes if you share some of those cookies your mom sends," bargained Court.
"Deal," said Em.
"That's my plan too," said Gabby, showing everyone two matching pink Coach cellphone cases. "I can't go a day without talking to Joshy. Have I mentioned my almost college freshman boyfriend?"
"Three times already." Ashley sounded annoyed. "While we were supposed to be talking about my prospects this year. And my theme for this year's sleepover."
"You have nothing to worry about this summer," Gabby pointed out. "I'm the one who has the major dilemma. Stick with Joshy or go after Gavin. He's so cute." She sighed and clutched her pink throw pillow to her chest. "I totally missed camp, but so much happened while I was away. My parents took us to the Greek Islands for Christmas and I got a killer tan. I went out with both Tommy Waters and Blake Edmonds, and then dumped them both when Joshy asked me to go to prom."
"And that's got to do with me, how?" Ashley looked bored. "We were talking about me finding a boyfriend. I've never gone a summer without one."
"It could happen this year," said Em, looking up from one of her books. She was holding one of those saucy romance novels that had a guy on the cover with a steriod-looking oiled bare chest and a loincloth as his only cover-up. "You've dated almost every guy here. There's almost no one left." Ashley glared at her and Em's face turned pink. "No offense."
"There are the counselors," Ashley reminded her. "Technically I am one so it's okay."
"Pul-eeze. You're a CIT and rules are rules," Courtney corrected her. "We may be almost sixteen --"
"I am sixteen," Gabby declared. "At least I am in two weeks."
"Well, the rest of us are almost sixteen and that means we're barely a step-up from a camper," Court corrected. "Not that I don't have my eyes on a counselor myself."
Gabby squealed. "Who cares about any of that! The point is we're back here. I've been counting down the days till camp for months. TGIH!" she said, breathing in deeply.
I looked at Em. "Thank God I'm Home," she explained. "Gabby likes to abbreviate everything. Or at least she thinks she is. Sometimes her made-up abbreviations are longer than the real words."
Ashley was sitting on top of a serene blue comforter and a mound of throw pillows. Behind her head was a black and white poster of two people kissing in the rain along with pictures of her with friends and guys. There was even a picture of her with Hunter and Cole. Cole looked really cute in a navy polo, his curly hair blowing in the wind. "Girls, this is going to be an amazing summer," she said confidently. "As long as you do things my way, of course."
Gabby laughed sort of uncertainly. Court rolled her eyes at me. Grace and Em just shook their heads.
Ashley caught me staring and smiled thinly. I got the feeling that the "you" she was referring to was me. And that what she wanted to add was: And Sam, don't you forget it.
3 Getting to Know You
After four hours, eight handouts, and a lecture on poison oak, Hitch used the second afternoon of counselor orientation for some "gender bonding time," as he called it. Grace said it was code for "matchmaking." The guys went sailing while the girls went on a hike. All three CIT bunks -- 7B, 8A, and 8B -- plus the counselors were going. Personally, I would have preferred boating. It was 95 degrees out and it was only 1 PM.
We were heading up the first trail and already I was behind. The 7B girls and some of the other counselors had shot ahead and I could see their dust and footprints on the pine-laden path. I could also see the outlines of Grace and Meg, both avid runners, at the front of our pack, along with Ashley's older sister, Alexis. Ashley, Gabby, and the CIT girls of bunk 8A were right behind them. It took all my effort not to laugh at some of the girls from 8A who were panting and sweating just to stay on Ashley's heels. They were hanging on her every (loud) word about filming the new Pines video. Somehow Court, Em, and I were the ones bringing up the rear. I wasn't sure if they were just as slow as I was or if they just felt guilty leaving the new girl on her own.
"You guys can go ahead," I urged them after I had stopped, yet again, to take a swig of water from my bottle. "I can manage on my own."
Court looked at me like I was crazy. "Don't be such a martyr. I'm not being slow on account of you; I am slow."
Em started to giggle. "Me too!" she admitted. "This is as fast as I go so you're not holding me up at all. I'm glad to have the company. Usually it's just me and Court and all she wants to talk about is boys." Court punched Em in the arm. Court had a habit of doing that. She told me the one sport she did like was kickboxing and it had become a force of habit to use her hands.
"I thought you guys felt sorry for me because I'm as slow as a slug," I told them. "No one ever picks me first when it comes to team sports."
"Me either," Em and Court said at the exact same time. I smiled. I had a feeling the three of us would get along just fine. I looked up. I could hear someone coming down the path in front of us. It was Grace. She was sweaty, even down to her ponytail, but she didn't look out of breath. She looked at me and smiled. "Another non-athletic type," she said. "Good. These two could use some company. Last year on one of our hikes, they were half an hour behind the rest of us. One of the counselors had to go back and check on them to make sure they were okay."
"We were enjoying the scenery," Em said, and took a puff of her inhaler. "Something you never do, Grace, because you go so fast."
There really was a lot to see up here. The air just smelled clear, like a fresh load of laundry, and I could hear every bird chirp and the crunch of dead leaves under my feet -- something I never would have heard at home with all the street traffic and noise. From this spot on the hill, you could see the entire camp laid out below, like a miniature set, dotted with dozens of trees and tiny cabins. I still couldn't get over how large the Pines camp was. I'd overheard someone say it was about two miles wide. That was bigger than my whole town.
Grace gave Em a look. "Maybe today I will stop and smell t
he flowers, so to speak. I got to the end of the hike and then told Sophia I was heading back for you guys. I couldn't stand hearing about Ashley's latest camp video shoot one more time."
Court moaned. "I know. If I have to hear one more time about how she had her hair and makeup done professionally for the shoot I'm going to scream."
"Ashley offered to give me a makeover two times already," Em said, with a snort. "I had to keep telling her, nicely, that I only wear lip gloss, so a makeover wouldn't help me. She looked annoyed. I guess that means I'm off the sleepover list for sure."
"You didn't make it last year, so why would things change now?" Court quipped, but Em didn't laugh. "I'm sorry, Em. I didn't realize you were still bent out of shape over that."
"I'm not," Em said hurriedly. "I just, well, I was on the list, and then dropped off the A-list, I guess."
Court patted her shoulder. "Take it from someone who has never made the coveted list -- you're better off."
"How did you fall from grace?" I asked, stopping to scratch my left calf. I had forgotten to put bug spray on and I was beginning to realize that was a huge mistake. "Is it a camp thing?"
"Last summer, I fell off the list the day before the party because I didn't lend her my brown polka-dot bikini," Em explained. "It was brand new! And my mom had just sent it and I didn't want to part with it." Em looked sort of bummed. "After that, Ashley would barely talk to me or Grace, who was sort of lumped along with me for the 'betrayal.' Two kiss-butt girls who are now CITs in 8A, Sierra and Delaney, took our places. Now Ashley barely speaks to us."
"Don't worry about it, Em," Grace said. "I've told you time and again it's not your fault. We're better off this way."
"Grace is right. You don't need Ashley," Court said. "You have me. And Sam here seems pretty decent, which means she's off Ashley's list for sure." She nudged me. "There is no way Ashley wants to compete with the Dial and Dash girl."
"So what's your reason for being anti-Ashley?" I asked.
"Two summers ago I caught her kissing my boyfriend, Paul Brock," Court told me, sounding not the least bit bitter. "Ever since then it's been war between us. Well, at least I pretend it is." Court giggled. "The truth is, I was totally over Paul by the time Ashley hooked up with him, but Ash was so freaked out that I caught her, I've been using it to my advantage ever since. I'm repaying the torture she put me through my first year here. She pretended to be all nice to me at first and then she totally humiliated me. It's her MO."