Do Over (7 page)

Ian threw out his freckle-covered arms and slapped his palms on the ground. “No matter how I move, there’s a stick under my back.” His puffy jacket ballooned around his torso, making his legs look even skinnier. “I can feel it.”

“Yeah,” John said. “We’ll need to grate the field before prom.” He crossed his arms over his letter jacket-covered chest. “I didn’t want to level the area before now because of all the Prairie dog holes.’

“I wonder how much of your decorating fund a backhoe will use up?” Trey looked at me with a half-smile as he further threatened my pathetic prom budget.

“Ergh.” I turned away, trudging down the rows of tents with my bags. We were camping on a warren of prairie dogs, rodents that would cost us a chunk out of our budget. I read my assignment card again.
Pez Johnson, tent 13
. They’d put my nickname on my name card instead of my first name. Thanks, John.

I paused with my bags and scanned the grounds. The tents were arranged in a circular fashion. Positioned in the last arc, a small flag flew over tent number thirteen, beckoning. Lucky thirteen.

The narrow wheels of my roller bag ate the rough terrain until I got to tent thirteen. Finally. I grabbed the tab on the tent’s oversized zipper. Nothing happened. I jerked and wiggled the tab and got it up halfway before the teeth caught in the fabric and refused to go any higher.
Ergh.
I dropped and crawled into the dark green cave, trying not to picture doing any of this in a prom dress. Reaching back out, I turned my luggage onto their sides and dragged them through the canvas hole.

Someone outside struggled with the zipper for a few seconds, muttered, then dropped down and crawled in too.

Trey.

He reached back, yanked a gym bag in with him, and then attempted to stand in the entry. He had to hunch because the six-foot ceiling wasn’t tall enough to accommodate his full height.

“What do you want?” I asked.

He flicked his tent assignment card at me.

I caught it in one hand, and lowered my eyes to read the print.
Nicholas Tresmont, tent 13.
“Huh.” I lifted the lid on my first bag. “I can’t believe guys and girls are sharing.”

“Whatever.”

After withdrawing the blowup air mattress, I unfolded the sides so they lay across the canvas floor. “Watch out,” I said and hit the inflate button. The mattress filled with a whoosh sound and filled the space from one green canvas wall to the other.

His blasé attitude surprised me. “No, really. This assignment can’t be right.”

“It’s no treat for me either. They roomed me with the one girl who doesn’t put out.”

I rolled my eyes and freed the purple fitted sheet from my bag. “And don’t you forget it.” I popped the pleated elastic over one end of the mattress. The fresh laundry smell of the fabric softener helped alleviate the tent smell. “Get the other side.”

Trey knelt to get both ends. “Sometimes you sound like Coach.”

“I know. Sorry.” I crawled up the mattress and shoved the sheet over the edge. The back of my fingers scraped the rough tent wall, making a giant rusty screech. I withdrew my fingers with more care, thinking how happy I’d be never to hear a fresh manicure against canvas ever again. I looked from the end of the inflated mattress to the few inches of space at the entry. Given the size of Trey, he had nowhere else to go. “Stay on your side of the mattress.”

Trey nodded.

***

The thumping sound of the rain discouraged any attempts to leave the tent. “You’re still shaking the air mattress,” Trey said.

“I’m c-o-l-d.” I shivered again and clutched the blanket tighter.

Trey sighed and rolled to the center. His weight caused me to roll toward him and we met in the middle, only a few inches apart. He threw his arm over my waist, and I moved closer to his heat. The move might have been exciting if the air weren’t freezing.

“T-h-a-n-k-s,” I said.

He rubbed a hand against my back. So warm, he practically radiated heat. I snuggled closer. His warmth made me shiver again and it felt great.

“They have a bonfire going.”

“It’s too c-o-l-d. I’m not leaving the blankets.” I tightened my arms around him. “And you have to stay here ‘til I warm up. You’re so warm. And you smell nice. I’m so glad you’re my roommate.”

Trey stiffened. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“You’re warm.” I clutched him and dropped my forehead to his chest.

Trey laughed and kissed my neck. “Fine.”

Tingles radiated from the spot where his lips touched. “Do that again.”

Trey pulled away and searched for my eyes. The darkness inside the tent made it hard to read him, so I gave up trying and closed my eyes. He leaned down, and his mouth was on mine. Warm, open, sure. He tasted like hot chocolate and summer. I dug my hands into his hair and moved closer, opening my mouth, kissing him back. He was big and warm and--.

Someone banged on the outside of our tent, causing the canvas to rattle. “Hey, Trey. You in there?” Ian asked. There was a squeal from the metal zip, then a curse word when the tab stuck.

I rolled away, flat on my back, and put an arm over my eyes. My heart pounded and I blew out a breath.

Trey lifted his head and told Ian where he could go.

Their back and forth ruined the intimate atmosphere. I turned on my other side, feeling warm and tired now that my whole body was no longer tense. I patted my pillow. “Night,” I said, my voice sounding slurred in my relaxed sleepy state.

***

Creak.

I rubbed my eyes and blinked. The pillow beside me bore an imprint but the tent was empty and Trey was gone. How Trey of him.

Creak.

I looked up. The roof of the tent slowly bent and folded toward me. Weird. When the plastic touched my face, I came fully awake and scrambled for the exit. I yanked the zip up to its maximum height and dove through the hole. My hands and knees sank into new mud as I pulled to freedom.

Chapter Six

The morning air nipped at my face as I rinsed mud off my hands with a jug of half-frozen water. The runoff caused the prairie dog dirt to liquefy and pool around my cream ballet flats. I inched back and continued to pour. When my fingers grew numb, I hurried to finish and joined the others by the fire.

I sank onto a fallen log, pulled my sweater over my knees to hide the mud stains, and stretched my fingers toward the flames. Most of the campers did what I was doing. But John and Carla were more industrious. John scrambled eggs in a huge cast iron skillet, making the air smell like breakfast. Carla handed out wicker baskets containing granola bars. I snagged a cinnamon one and passed the basket to Ian.

The dark shadows under Ian’s eyes stood out against his pale skin, testifying to his sleepless night. Ian put a hand to his lower back and stretched. The satin of his puffy jacket had a few new snags in its weave. His jacket didn’t like sitting on a log any more than I did. “My back hurts.”

A few murmurs of agreement emerged from the other campers.

Carla doubled up a hair band and wound her black hair into it. “We had to sleep three to a tent.”

It was odd to see people’s morning routines.

Lauren wrapped a plaid blanket around her head, poncho style. “It’s arctic, freezing. I can’t feel my nose.”

“Yeah,” Carla said around a bite of granola bar. “My
roommate
forgot her blanket and had to share.” Her words were sharp and she frowned at Lauren.

Lauren pulled the blanket closer and tightened her grip.

“Um, maybe we should look into staying at a hotel after prom, instead of out here,” a brave voice from the crowd said.

I think that was Amy. I straightened in pleasure, almost feeling warmer. The winter took out Napoleon, surely this cold front could wipe out a prom in a field.

John shook his head. “It’ll cost too much.” He scooped the cooked eggs onto a platter.

“Even a cheap motel?” An edge of pleading shadowed Ian’s voice. The toe of his sneaker dug in the mud in front of him.

John’s hiking boots moved in sure-footed steps. “Yeah. Too much.”

If we had to run from the prairie dogs, he’d make it, but I’d be one of the first to fall. I examined the slick bottoms of my flats and thought I could feel mud seeping into the sides. They’d been an impractical choice. I knew that when I packed them, but they matched my sweater perfectly.

I searched the horizon, hoping for a glimpse of civilization, but the fog cocooned us in a world made up of mist, mud, and fire. Were the prairie dogs using the fog as cover? Hiding behind it, waiting to pounce?

“We simply don’t have that kind of budget anymore,” Carla said, drawing my attention back to the circle.

“Indoors…” Amy’s voice trailed off wistfully.

John flipped the contents of the skillet with his spatula. “It won’t be so cold in May.”

“No. it’ll be a hundred and ten degrees and humid,” Lauren said.

John crossed his fingers. “It won’t be a hundred and ten ‘til July.”

Amy swatted at her arm. “There will be mosquitoes and new prairie dog litters.”

“We’ll get Mad Cow disease,” Lauren said.

“Mosquitoes carry West Nile virus, not Mad Cow disease,” Carla corrected her.

“That sounds better.” The blanket muffled Lauren’s words. “All those prairie dog holes. They’re hibernating now. But, prairie dogs come out in the spring, you know. Monkey pox…”

“My roommate talked in his sleep.” Ian’s pointed stare let everyone know he roomed with John. John flipped the eggs again.

“My tent smelled like new plastic.” Lauren sniffed. “It was probably toxic. I hope my lungs are okay.

“At least they roomed you with a girl,” I said. “I can’t believe they paired girls and guys together.”

Silence.

Heads swiveled in my direction.

“No,” John said. “We didn’t.”

Carla said, “Like parents would allow that.”

“Who’d you bunk with, Pez?” Ian asked.

“Uh.” I couldn’t see Trey, which worked for me. Before I could come up with an answer I didn’t have, someone across the fire smirked.

“My tent was co-ed too,” a girl said.

I didn’t recognize the girl, but the people around her laughed.

“Mine too,” a guy quickly bragged.

“Well, I’ll sure remember this campout,” Ian said.

“It was kinda fun, huh?” another guy said. Unbelievably, buoyed by the sugary powers of one granola bar, the tide had turned.

“We should do a senior campout after graduation, too,” John said.

I closed my eyes as the murmurs of agreement followed his words.

***

I entered Dad’s office, giggling with Lauren about my date tonight with Blaine. I’d met him at Aster’s art event. “I bet I can get him to take me to prom.”

Lauren slid onto the counter. “He’s perfect. Model gorgeous.”

“Yep,” I said, and dropped off my bag.

“Yeah. So, why are you ruining your chance with him by taking him to a costume exhibit?”

I held out the jar of lollipops. Lauren shook her head.

Grabbing a purple one, I said, “It won’t.”

“Duh. He’s a guy.”

I shrugged and spun the grape sucker in my mouth, thinking I’d have to fix my lipstick before I left on my date. The fluorescent lights in here were bad for makeup application, but they’d do for a lipstick retouch.

Lauren’s head tilted and she hopped off the counter. “Hey John.”

Trey and John stood just inside the door.

Lauren smiled. “You said you’d show me your regional win trophy.”

John’s eyes glinted. “Yeah. Come on.” He waved at me and led her out.

Trey looked at me in an odd manner. “Look, I know we kissed, but…” Trey paused and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll put it out there. I heard you talking to Lauren, and I’m not going to the clothes museum with you.” He said
museum
with as much disdain as if I’d suggested an evening of dumpster cleaning.

“Huh?”

“I know there’s some type of costume thing there. It’s not me. Okay? My mom--”

I rubbed my hands together. “The museum’s exhibiting costumes from several different decades: evening gowns, coronation gowns. It’s going to be really cool.”

My ringtone jingled a song.

“Hello?” I paused and listened to Blaine on the other end. Hot, preppy Blaine.

“I’m at the door.”

“I’ll be right out.” I disconnected, rooted through my bag, and slicked on a layer of cherry slush lip-gloss. “That’s my date. You know, for the museum, for the costume exhibit. See ya.”

I met Blaine outside. He wore a navy blazer and khaki pants. I bet he’d know how to pick out the perfect tux. None of that group dress crap like the swim team was talking about: matching tuxedos.
OMG.
I hoped someone talked the mermen out of that fashion failure.

Despite the bright afternoon sunlight, Blaine wore his black-rimmed sunglasses atop his trendy forward-swooped ash blond bangs. “Hey.”

“I should say, ‘Hi.’ to your father.” Blaine winked. “Maybe take a look at your playbook.”

“Dad’s on the field with Aster.” I narrowed my eyes. Had Blaine’s brown eyes brightened when I said Aster?
Ew.
They better not have.

“Well, next time then.”

A throat cleared behind me and I turned to Trey. “Yeah?”

His eyebrows lifted.

“Oh, sorry,” I said and introduced them.

Blaine shook Trey’s hand with a toothy grin. “Good luck today. You win this one, and you’ll see us in the playoffs.” Blaine took my elbow, steering me toward his small navy-colored car. “Beamer’s waiting.”

I looked over my shoulder at Trey. “We’re off to the museum. You know the building, the one with pretty pictures inside.”

Trey remained by the building and said nothing. I had to work to keep a smile from my face.

Blaine removed his jacket and hung it on a hook behind his seat before opening my door. I was coming in second to a blazer, not the best start to a date, but at least his jacket wouldn’t rumple. “It was really far to come and get you.”

I made a noncommittal noise. Dates had mentioned this before. Did they want praise for their sacrifice?