Chapter 1:
"What were we thinking?" Tawni asked.
I'll admit, it had been my brilliant idea. As a matter of fact, most of our ideas started out as my brilliant idea.
It's not that my best friend, Tawni, isn't creative. She is. She's incredibly artsy, especially when it comes to crafty projects. She made the shoulder bags that we carried around at school. Mine was purple with felt shaped puppies on it. Hers was pink with fringe and sequins. They actually started a trend, and for a while she had a business going. She also created a lot of the jewelry I wear: Earrings, bracelets, necklaces. She always make them kinda whimsical: a lady in a flowing gown sitting on a crescent moon, a unicorn. Stuff like that. Real originals. So Tawni is definitely creative.
But the idea to rearrange the furniture in our dorm was definitely mine.
"We were thinking that four beds lined up along one wall looked like something from the mental ward in a psycho movie," I reminded her. Maybe we'd been a bit harsh with our original assesment of our surroundings. Maybe it more closely resembled an army dormitory. Which I figured was fitting since we were basically at boot camp. Counselors' boot camp.
Anyway, I'd suggested we shove the beds so each one was angled out from the corner of the room.
"Now we have something from Charmed," Tawni said. "All we need is a pentagram in the middle . . . " Her voice trailed off and she released a tiny giggle. "Bad, bad idea, Sonny." She giggled again. "I mean, it just doesn't. . . work."
I started laughing and fell back on the bed.
It wasn't often that my ideas didn't work. The problem with this one was that one of the beds angled in a corner blocked the door to the bathroom. So yeah, it definitely wasn't going to work.
"Okay," I said. "For now, let's just put everything back the way it was."
I got up and started pushing my bed back against the far wall, while Tawni started pushing had spent the last four summers coming to Camp Lone Star. In the past, we'd been designated as nothing more than campers, having a great time, goofing around, working on the craft projects that Tawni was so good at, telling scary stories while sitting around the campfire, becoming friends with kids from other schools in the area. Last summer, our favorite pastime had become checking out guys and rating them according to cuteness factor.
But this year we wanted to do more than follow orders. And we wanted to do more than check and rate the guys. We wanted to seriously connect with them. And one of the things that our previous observations had shown us was that guys tended to gravitate toward the counselors. Since Tawni and I were now old enough, we'd applied to be those all-attention -getting counselors.
And we'd both been selected!
I was totally psyched!
Of course, the first step in being a counselor was attending leadership boot camp-" a week of intense team building," according to the letter we'd recieved announcing our selection as counselors. Not that I thought neither of us needed leadership training. My younger brother, Jason, was always telling me that I was too bossy. So I figured I'd be a natural at this job. Since Tawni and I tended to excel at the same things, I was convinced she, too, would make an excellent counselor.
Our parents had dropped us off almost an hour ago, with the usual, hugs, tears, and promises to call, be careful, and to have fun. We wouldn't see our parents for almost a month, a week longer than we'd been gone before, since the summer camping sessions were divided into three-week intervals. Strange how a month seems so much longer than three weeks. But I had Tawni and she had me, so we knew we'd survive the longer seperation from our families. No problem.
We'd registered, recieved our uniforms, and headed to the dormitory. We'd put our gear in the footlockers at- you guessed it!- the foot of the beds. Then we'd decided to do the extreme room makeover. Now we had everything to the way it was. Boring. Maybe when the other two girls we'd share the room with arrived we could come up with another arrangement.
"Guess we'd better get ready for our first"- Tawni wiggled her fingers, making quotation marks in the air- "official team meeting."
"Yeah, we don't want to be late for that."
Quickly we got dressed our "official" camp counselor uniforms. Then we stared at each activities- Did we play games like Twister or did we string beads or create artwork using leaves? - and our outdoor adventures- hiking, plant-life identification, trail marking, swimming. They had total control.
As much as I loved camp, the previous summers I'd experienced a few moments when I'd felt totally out of control. And very uncool. Thanks to one Chad Dylan Cooper. We lived in the same large town in California but didn't attend the same high school until our junior year where he switched schools, something I was definitely not looking forward to. Anyway, in the past we sorta had that school rivalry thing going. At least, I think that's what started his let-me-see-what-I-can-do-to-irritate-her shenanigans. From there it had escalated into obvious can't-stand-the -ground-she-walks-on dislike.
He'd gone so far as to nickname me Twinkle Toes the first summer. Simply because he'd spotted me sitting alone on the dock at the lake painting my toenails bright red. According to him, toenail polish shouldn't be anywhere near hiking boots. As though he would know.
"There aren't any bears in these woods," Chad had announced, like we'd been totally stupid for falling for their gag. If Chad Dylan Cooper showed up at camp this year, I planned to assign him toilet-scrubbing duty. We'd see who was laughing , this year I'd be totally in control. It was going to be the funnest summer yet!
"Okay," I said to Tawni now. "This is fixable."
Do you consider yourself adaptable?
Question five on the application I'd completed in hopes of being selected as a counselor.
I'd hadn't hesitated one sec before using my number-two pencil to shade in the oval next to Yes.
I knelt beside the footlocker where I'd put my things shortly after we arrived. I pulled out a red camisole and waved it at Tawni. "Find something red that matches the stiching, so we're at least color coordinated."
"Do you think it's okay for us to alter our clothing?"
All right, so maybe Tawni wasn't leadership material just yet. I was usually the one with the ideas, and she always had to make sure we weren't going to get into trouble- or at least ahe wanted good odds that we weren't going to get caught. I didn't blame her. "Her mom's two favorite words were "You're grounded," for the smallest of infractions. Like once, during a sleepover at Tawni's house, our friend Joanie brought over the DVD of Brokeback Mountain. We're all Heath Ledger fans.
Unfortunately, Tawni's mom came into the room while we were watching the movie. Tawni isn't allowed to watch R-rated movies. So she was grounded for a week. Getting away from the grounding machine was one of the reasons that Tawni loved summer camp. (A/N: btw they were around 12 in this but now they are 16) The worst that happened here was an hour in the "jail."
"Do you really want to go out there looking like the UPS delivery guy?"
"Good point." She knelt beside her footlocker and began scrounging around. "I spent a lot of time looking at Cute Casey last year, and I sure don't remember him wearing this."
Cute Casey had been one of the counselors last summer. He was tall with dark hair, and looked exactly like this guy in Abercrombie ad. He was way older than us- way out of our league, of course- but that was okay.
If we were honest with ourselves, he was another reason- a major reason actually- that we wanted to be counselors this summer. Counselors had a later curfew than campers. After we all were supposed to be in bed, we could hear the counselors outside our dorms laughing and talking, just loud enough to be heard but not understood. They had secrets and we wanted to be part of their secrets.
Another reason was Gorgeous George. He had shaggy blond hair and blue, blue eyes. We didn't want either one of them to view us as kids any longer.
"Maybe we didn't notice what they were wearing because we were too busy studying their faces," I said. I pulled out a scarf that had red, white, and blue swirling through it. Talk abaout patriotic. I could use it as a belt.
"They?" Tawni asked.
"Cute Casey and Gorgeous George."
"Oh, right, and don't forget Hot Hank."
It was a game we'd played last year, identifying the counselor with a word that began with his name. We'd done the same thing with the girl counselors, but we weren't nearly as complimentary. Crazy Claire- she hated the outdoors and was always finding reasons for us to have to stay indoors. It was crazy to come to Camp Lone Star if you didn't like the outdoors because the only time we were indoors during the day was when it rained. Moaning Mary- she moaned about the heat, the rain, the bugs. Patien Paula-she was never in a hurry, which meant if you got her for a counselor, you were the last in line for everything.
It wasn't that we didn't like them or tried to find fault with them, but they were competition. And I have kind of a competitive nature. The girls counselors held the attention of the guy counselors alot more easily than lowly campers did.
This summer would totally different.
We would be sure of it. For one thing, we would be counselors. For another, we'd come better prepared. We'd bought these cute American Eagle visors, lots of short tops, and low-riding jeans and shorts.
It didn't take us long to add some flair to our outfits. Tawni wore a red tank beaneath her brown shirt, while I wore the camisole. We'd unbutton the shirts, gathered the shirttails, and tied them to our waist. Then we'd rolled up our shorts until they were mid-thigh.
"When we have more time, we'll have to cut and hem these babies," Tawni said. "I'm so not going to start Junior year with a half-tanned leg."
"I know. This uniform is the worst. It still needs major surgery." And we could only take accesorizing so far. "Remember the crafts we did with the beads last summer?" I asked.
"Absolutely! Are you thinking-"
"We could cut the sleeves into strips-"
"Braid the strips-"
"Thread them throught the beads. Add some color, some pizzazz."
"I like it!" We both said at the same time, following our mind-reading session.
"Think we can do it before we head to the meeting?" Tawni asked.
I glanced at my watch. It was actually my dad's, on loan for the summer. It was really way too big for my narrow wrist, but Dad had punched extra holes in the wristband so it wouldn't slip off. It had all kinds of gadgets. A compass, a face that lit up with the flick of my wrist, and a button that would take me through the various time zone.
"We have only a couple of minutes before we need to report." I looked in the mirror that was on the back of the door that led into the bathroom. "I think we have a fashion statement going here that'll do for now."
I gathered my glossy black hair into a ponytail and pulled it through the hole at the back of the brown baseball cap that had CLS embroidered in red on the front. I really wanted to toss the hat into the footlocker and grab my visor, but I figured we were pushing the limits on rebellion enough already.
Tawni had also pulled her blond hair through the back of her cap. She was several inches taller than me. Most people are. I tried not to be bothered by that, but sometimes I couldn't help it. I wished I was taller.
White socks and hiking boots completed our outfits.
"Are we ready to rock?" I asked.
"As ready as we'll ever be," Tawni said.
A/N: So what did you think? Should I keep it going? I really like this story hope you do too.