Title: Crickets and Kisses
Category: Who's the Boss?
Characters: Angela, Tony, OC
Summary: It's all about Angela and Tony meeting at camp, oh so
many years ago... Part one of ? I thought I'd see if anyone was
interested before I wrote any more. Feedback is much appreciated!
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Who's the Boss? But I do like to borrow its characters every now and then. : )
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The sun shone bright and fierce down on the playing field at Camp Wildwood. Thirteen year old Angela Robinson wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand and thumped her bow down in the dry grass, hot even though she was dressed in a light blouse and khaki shorts. For the past two hours, she and three other girls had been engaged as a team against four other teams in an archery competition. They all watched as a tall, broad-shouldered woman paced back and forth behind the targets some fifty yards away. This was Ms. Birkenschlager, likely the meanest camp counselor there ever was.
"Okay, girls," she thundered in her deep, throaty voice. "Teams three and four are tied for the lead with six bull's eyes each! Now we go to sudden death! Both teams need to pick their best marksgirl to represent them! Whoever hits closest to the center, wins! If both girls make bull's eyes, we'll go another round until we get a champion! Do you hear me? Okay, let's go! Go, go, go!"
Angela, in team three, felt her already overheated face flush with pride as her teammates unanimously voted her as their representative. They seemed to have forgotten that she had overturned the boat when they went rowing two weeks ago, that she'd clocked Elsie Goodman on a return serve in tennis last week, and that she'd tripped over her own size nine feet in the relay race only yesterday. They only remembered that she had made all six of the bull's eyes that had propelled their team to near victory today. For the first time since she had arrived at camp nearly a month ago, Angela finally felt like she had found her niche.
Notching an arrow on her bowstring and pulling it taut, she closed one eye and took a deep breath, focusing on the distant red circle that was the bull's eye. Regina Loveless, the appointed marksgirl from the other team, had already made her shot - her arrow quivered in the ring just outside the center. It was a pretty good shot, but Angela knew she could do better. Breathing in again, she tightened her grip on the fletching…
"You can do it, Angela!" came a shout from one of the girls in group one. It was Ginny, Angela's roommate and perhaps the only girl at camp who was more of an outcast than Angela herself. She was also perhaps the only girl at camp who had known Angela's name prior to today. They hadn't really talked that much, both of them being pretty shy, but there had always seemed to have been an unspoken understanding between them. A sort of 'rejects of Camp Wildwood unite' sentiment. Angela knew it must have taken a lot for Ginny to speak up like that, and she would have appreciated the support if it had come at any other time.
But at that very moment, Angela was preparing to fire her shot and Ginny's unexpected call caused her to jerk in surprise. The bowstring twanged painfully against Angela's cheek as she released it prematurely and the arrow shot off across the clearing, completely missing the target and disappearing into the forest. The camp, all except for Regina's jubilant group, let out a collective groan.
"ABIGAIL!"
Angela winced, knowing all too well that Ms. Birkenschlager was really referring to her. And she didn't just sound angry. She sounded furious.
The camp counselor stalked over to her, hands on hips. It had the same effect as the sun going behind the clouds. Everything was now very dark and very still.
"Abigail! You get that arrow back right now, young lady! That is property of Camp Wildwood! I don't want to see your face until you have found it, do you hear me?"
Her face flushed now for an entirely different reason, Angela hung her head so as not to let the others see the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "Yes, ma'am," she whispered.
"Now go! Go, go, go!"
Dropping her bow, Angela dashed off in the direction of the forest, the giggles and taunts of her campmates chasing her. Oh, how quickly they had turned on her.
"Way to go, Alice!"
"Yeah, good going there, Andrea!"
"You might want to take a compass with you, in case you get lost!"
"…and dinner!"
"…and breakfast!"
"…and lunch!"
"Because you'll be out there a long time!"
Once among the tall, leafy trees of the forest, the cruel jokes of the other girls were drowned out. Angela collapsed against the sturdy trunk of an oak tree, trying to catch her breath. Hot tears dripped down her face, stinging as they ran over the welt raised by the bowstring. Just the thought of that awful moment when her arrow went awry caused her to cry harder. Her one chance to prove herself to the camp as one of the 'cool kids', even if it was by winning some stupid archery contest, and she had blown it. And it was her fault. Not Ginny's. Not Ms. Birkenschlager's. Not anyone else's. She had been confident, too confident in her newfound ability, which was never a good thing.
How long she stood there, hugging the oak as if it were her only friend left in the world (and in her estimation, it very well could have been), she didn't know. Gradually other things besides the sound of her own sobbing began to filter into her senses – the continuous ache on the side of her face, the rough bark underneath her hands, the quietly cheerful chirping of birds, and the taste of salt when she licked her parched lips. Straightening up, she ran a hand carefully over her face in an effort to compose herself.
She had no idea what time it was, but surely it was getting late. She knew she needed to find the arrow. The only question was "how?" It could be anywhere.
Think, Angela told herself. Where did the arrow look like it went after it left your bow? She closed her eyes and pictured the playing field. The forest had been to the left of the row of targets, nearly perpendicular to them. When she had released the bowstring, the arrow had shot up and only slightly off to the left. So it must not have gone too deeply into the forest. She was still facing in the same direction she had been on the playing field, so all she needed to do was walk forward and the arrow should be somewhere not too far ahead.
Or so she hoped.
She quickly discovered after setting out that walking in a straight line in a forest was impossible. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, constantly searching for the telltale red of the arrow's fletching against the variegated browns of the forest floor. Thank goodness it was summer; otherwise, it would be dark so early she couldn't see where she was going, much less what she was looking for.
She had been walking for what she guessed to be nearly half an hour, completely absorbed in her search, when suddenly a cracking report shattered the silence of the forest. Startled, she jerked just as she had when Ginny had called out, and then inwardly berated herself for being so jumpy.
Still, her heart couldn't help but race when another snap sounded nearby. She whirled around, trying to determine from where the sounds were coming.
Stay calm, she chanted to herself. Stay calm, stay calm, stay…aaah!
A third snap was accompanied by a horrible scream that sounded as if it came from right behind her, and all thoughts of staying calm left Angela's head. Panicked, she started running deeper into the forest. Like some Snow White nightmare come to life, branches clawed at her and tree roots reared up out of the ground to ensnare her. Before she knew what was happening, her feet had connected with something large and soft, tripping her. Her scream was cut off when she hit the ground and the air left her lungs in a violent 'whoosh!'
Panic and pain mingled together as she blindly rolled over and scrambled to unsteady feet. She was trying hard to recover from her fall…she couldn't seem to breathe in properly…when her vision cleared somewhat and she saw what she had stumbled over.
If she could have screamed all over again, she would have.