Girl on the Run (10 page)

I
love to watch
How The Grinch Stole Christmas
. My favourite part is when the sled begins to slip off the very top of the mountain, just as the Grinch realizes the real meaning of Christmas, and you hear a scream of brass horns. It's a short piece of music, but one that's very effective.

When Spencer started to read my diary, I heard those same horns. I'm surprised my hair didn't stand on end. People around the room were squirming in their seats at first, but when the kissing description started, everyone leaned forward. By twos and threes, people turned to our table, zeroing in on my burning face.

He read, “The instant kink in my neck should have been my first clue that this was not going to be fun. He started so quickly I barely had time to prepare. One second he was smiling and the next his mouth was grinding against my teeth. I tried to react to the sudden impact…”

Here were my options; I could sit and play dumb or move my ass. The coward in me wanted to slide under the table. But as Spencer continued to read about the disastrous kiss, I remembered writing Devin's name.

The hall was crammed with bodies. Unable to push my way through the crowd, I stepped up and ran along the top of the tables, making my way toward the stage. Ignoring the growing calls and whistles, I kept my eye on the target. Spencer looked up and we locked eyes.

It was like some old spaghetti western. I was the good, he was the bad, and the diary was the ugly truth. He read faster, trying to get out every detail. Devin's name would be coming up in the next sentence.

I launched myself off the last table. My long jump training kicked in, and I soared through the air like some kind of freaky martial arts fighter. I slammed into Spencer, and we skidded across the stage. He squirmed out of my grasp and took off, still holding my diary.

He zigzagged through the crowd and ran out the main door. The sun had just set, but there was still enough light that everyone who had filtered outside could easily watch me chase that turd of Satan all over the green slope. I almost had the collar of his shirt a few times, but my flip-flops were slowing me down. I kicked them off with a curse, and then started chasing him in my bare feet.

“Go J.J.!” Scotty called out from the crowd.

I pumped my arms and let my feet fly over the grass. Spencer looked back and panicked when he saw how close I was. He led me down to the beach, and started crawling over the canoes, hoping to slow me down. But instead of canoes, I saw hurdles.

Attack the first one and set the pace.

I finally caught him and this time I pinned him for good. Wrenching the diary from his hands, I dragged him back to the main hall. We were greeted with applause and laughter. Spencer was too out of breath to say anything.

I pulled him back toward the stage. “You're not done yet,” I growled.

We stood in front of the microphone. I pointed at the page where I wanted him to start. Clearing his throat, he began to read the last few sentences I'd written last night.

“But I guess camp means different things for each kid,” he said. “Some want to find new friends, or a summer romance. Others want to be noticed, and some just wish they could belong. I hope to find my place among them; my four horsemen of the apocalypse, my lost boys, my little men in training…my guys.”

The room was quiet when he finished. I tucked the diary under my arm and went back to our table in the corner. The clapping started, and then built up around us. Duff made a sign.

“He says you've got balls,” Liam said, nodding in agreement.

I glanced toward Kirk's spot, but he wasn't there. Susan took the stage and brought the room under control. “Very exciting ending! I want to thank all the participants for their efforts tonight. The judges will return in five minutes with their decision.”

I glared at Spencer. “Guess who's getting a private lesson in water safety,” I said. “And Lacey's not going to be there to send you to the cabin this time.” A look of terror crossed his face, and I felt a wave of satisfaction.

Then I saw Devin. My stomach rose up my throat then fell down to my feet. I couldn't stand the look on his face. I stared down at my diary, wanting to throw it in the lake. There was a tap on my shoulder.

Susan said, “Come with me, please.” I followed her out of the main hall, taking my diary with me. It felt heavy in my sweaty palms.

We entered her office, and I sat down in the same chair as last time. A steaming mug was on the desk in front of me.

Susan leaned back in her chair. “Jessica,” she started, “that was one of the most interesting talent show acts I think I have ever seen.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “But I couldn't let him keep reading. Someone's name—”

“That's not why I called you here,” she interrupted. She stood up and walked to the window, her hands clasped behind her back.

I guessed she was probably trying to come up with a way to tell me I was fired. How did she word it the last time? She'd reconsider Kirk's decision?

Her silence was a bit eerie. I focused on the steaming mug on her desk. It smelled sweet and spicy at the same time. I inhaled deeply, wishing the tea was for me. Part of me realized Susan had started talking again. Tilting my head, I read the little paper tab on the tea bag. Vanilla chai. I breathed it in again. It smelled better than Lewis's cinnamon rolls.

“I've never seen anyone run like you,” Susan said.

“Huh?”

“You're some kind of machine. And jumping over the canoes! It's like you were born to run.”

That punch of reality came out of nowhere. I leaned away from the tea, putting a hand over my stomach.

“Jessica? Do you remember what I told you about the triathlon cup?”

I swallowed dryly. “Am I going to be fired?”

“Fired? Of course not. I want you to do the running portion of the race!”

There it was. “You want me to race?” The blood drained from my face and whooshed all the way to my toes.

“Your run on the beach was very impressive.”

“I don't run…anymore.” The true reason for this meeting was dawning on me. The door opened and closed behind me.

“Kirk,” Susan said, looking over my shoulder. “I've asked Jessica to run for us.”

He reached in front of me and took the cup of tea. “What you did just now was very”…he searched for the word. “Impressive.”

I kept my mouth shut. I wasn't sure if he meant the embarrassing diary or the humiliating chase. It was like someone telling you they like your hairdo when you're standing in front of them naked.

Susan was practically dancing on the spot. “She's our best bet for the cup.”

“I agree.” He brought the cup up to his mouth and took a sip.

Transfixed, I watched the steam circle around then slip into his mouth.

“Jessica?”

I whipped my head in her direction. “Sorry?” I stammered.

She patted the empty glass case. “Twenty long years,” she sighed.

“Um…there's no time for proper training.” I pulled that out of the air.

“Don't be nervous,” she said. “We have all kinds of athletes here that will help you.”

“No, sorry.”

“No?” Kirk said.

I studied his face. He knew I had success in track and field. Was he going to tell her? My heart hammered inside my chest, waiting for him to say more.

Susan tried again. “What if we had Spencer run ahead of you on the course, and you could chase him? You seemed to enjoy that.”

“It has nothing to do with chasing Spencer, or anyone else…I just…I just don't run anymore.” My grip tightened on the arms of the chair, turning my knuckles white. “Is there anything else?” I asked.

She clasped her hands as if in prayer. “Will you think about it?” she asked.

“I can't.” I stood up on shaking knees. “I'm sorry.”

I quickly left her office, hoping to disappear into my closet/bedroom. The fact that Cabin 4A was my refuge proved how pathetic the day had been.

Clumps of kids were milling around on the darkening lawn. A familiar posture caught my attention. I couldn't escape yet, I had some apologizing to do. I took a deep breath and walked down to the beach where he was sitting on one of the canoes.

“Hi,” I said.

Devin jumped up and glared at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm so sorry,” I began. “I never meant—”

“Shut up! Someone will hear.” He ran a hand down his face and took a few steps back. “Listen, we're not a couple. We're nothing.” His Adam's apple rose and fell. “I wish I'd never met you.”

My pulse was still racing from my episode in Susan's office. I shifted my feet in the sand, wishing my knees would stop shaking. “He stole my diary,” I finally said.

He held up a hand. “It doesn't matter. No one would believe anyone would want to kiss you anyway. You're nothing but a bitch.”

He sniffed then brushed past me. After a few steps he broke into a jog and disappeared into the shadows.

My cabin hated me. Devin hated me. Kirk only hung around when I was in the most embarrassing situations. Welcome to my summer of hell. I was beyond crying. I felt numb, actually, except for the familiar knot in my stomach. The issue with Devin proved one thing that I'd been lying to myself about.

It didn't matter what I did to make up for my mistake. This was my punishment. I couldn't be mad at Spencer or Devin or even Kirk. The truth was, I didn't deserve to be happy. Old Jesse died with Dad, and there was nothing I can do to bring either one of them back.

I
promised Mom that I would only call in case of an emergency, and vice versa. She wanted me to have complete privacy without feeling obligated to check in. I think we were both worried we might cry over the phone. I sat at the desk in the counsellors' lounge and logged onto the computer. Chloe had sent a quick reply to my last email.

Dear Jesse,

Your mom was on the local cable yesterday talking about backyard BBQ parties. I DVR'd it for you. She looked great!

It sounds like the camp is crawling with cute guys. You are so lucky!

Devin seems like he needs some work. But don't be discouraged, it could be a smart investment with high potential for large returns (if you know what I mean!)

I find it interesting you wrote two full pages on this Kirk guy you can't stand and only two sentences about Devin. Hmm? You always did like a good challenge on the track ;). You can take the girl out of the competition, but you can't take the competition out of the girl!

Sam and I had our second date, and that, my friend, is worth ten pages! Which I will save for the next email. Also, Ben was asking about you.

Ben? Oh, right—Dill Pickle, the hot lifeguard.

I promised I would let you know. So, I'm letting you know. I think he's hoping for an invitation to Kamp Jesse. What should I tell him?

I drummed my fingers on the desk. Ben hadn't really been that bad. Maybe if he'd been drinking vanilla chai tea, his kiss would have been much better. Then, instead of thinking about Kirk, I would be anticipating a weekend with Ben.

Thinking of Kirk!

I rubbed my forehead. Get a grip, Jesse.

I wrote a quick email with a few details about my run tonight with Spencer, making sure to keep it light and funny. I was still performing as the grieving but coping teenager. Then, just for the hell of it, I added I'd like to see Ben if he would be so inclined to press his hot lifeguard smile against my lips.

I logged off the computer and jogged down the steps, planning on locking myself in my room. Out of the shadows four figures ambushed me, flattening me against the grass.

“J.J.!” they screamed.

“Leave me alone,” I moaned.

They grabbed my hands and pulled me up. “We won!”

I scrunched up my face. “What?”

Liam said, “The judges said it was genius to use a pretend diary.”

“A pretend diary?” I repeated. Thank. You. God.

“And the running all over the grounds,” Scotty said.

Duff signed as Liam interpreted. “And how you acted all mad and stuff.”

“Okay, so you weren't really acting,” Spencer said. “But we let on you were.”

I stared back at them. “You won the talent contest?” I asked.

“No,” Scotty smiled. “We all won. Cabin 4A means you too.”

I studied their vibrant faces. One wanted to be noticed. One wanted to have friends. One wanted a summer romance. One wanted to belong. And I wanted
all
of those things.

Cabin 4A was more excited than a group of girls on prom night. I had never seen them so giddy. A knock at the door revealed four pizzas, a thirty-inch flat screen TV, and video games.

“Just Jesse,” Kirk smiled, putting down the TV. “Congratulations.” His shirt rode up when he bent over, giving me a three-second glimpse of that strong, tanned back again.

“It was mostly Spencer's idea,” I mumbled. I stepped back and tripped over one of the boys' sneakers. Spencer gave a big smile, pleased to take credit for anything that brought him attention.

Soon the sound of screaming zombies and gunfire filled the tiny room. Two of the pizza boxes already lay empty—the boys were garbage trucks.

Kirk had stayed to make sure they set up everything properly. “You've got it for two more hours,” he said, leaning against the door frame. “Enjoy.” He tipped his ball cap and started to leave.

“Hey,” I said, opening up a new pizza box, “at least take a slice.” Food tastes better when it's shared. And so what if he has milk chocolate eyes?

He chose pepperoni and motioned toward the porch. “Have it with me outside,” he said.

“Um…okay.” I grabbed a veggie slice and followed him, secretly hating how my heart was keeping the rhythm of a techno dance song.

We sat on the steps, looking at the moon reflecting off the lake. Kirk still hadn't said anything, and I was aware my chewing seemed to echo across the lawn.

His silence was freaking me out. “So, yeah…” I began. “I can't believe the guys won.”

“You won too.”

“Sort of.” I peeled off a mushroom and popped it into my mouth.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Spencer came up with the idea, huh? All by himself?”

“Mmm,” I nodded, suddenly interested in the pattern of the wood on the steps.

“Okay,” he grinned. He took the last bite of crust and leaned back, resting his elbows on the step. His wrinkled button-up shirt was untucked. I pictured him bare chested in his room, looking for a shirt to put on, his tanned hands groping the laundry strewn about.

My mind raced.
Think of something smart to say. Think of something funny to say. Think of something, anything, instead of staring at this guy!

“Are you sure about not running?” he asked.

That brought me slamming back to earth. “Yes,” I said.

“Yes, you're sure, or yes, you'll run?”

The pizza tasted like sawdust. I swallowed, hoping it wouldn't come back up. “I'm not running,” I finally answered.

His face was full of hope. The words tumbled out quickly. “You seem fast, and this might be my last year here. I'm just saying it would be really great if…”

I stood up and hugged my elbows, feeling chilled. “Thanks for bringing the prizes.”

“Oh…yeah,” He stood up after me and narrowed his eyes, confused by my reaction. “I'll be back for the games.”

“Awesome, thanks!” I gave him a big fat fake smile then walked through the boys' party to my room.

After everything that had happened today, I was more upset by Kirk wanting to have pizza on the porch only so he could ask about the running.

Devin's words repeated in my head.
Who would want to kiss you?

I stood in front of the small oval mirror on my wall and leaned close. I was nothing outstanding. Chloe always made my eyes look better with makeup. I had been perfectly happy being a jock, never worrying about that stuff.

There was a light tapping on the door.

Scotty stood there. “There's someone to see you.”

Devin, I thought. Oh god. But it wasn't Devin waiting for me on the porch.

“Hey, Jazzy.” Lacey smiled. “Since the boys are having this thing…” she paused, then looked around at the pizza boxes and dirty socks strewn about. “Um…maybe you'd like to escape to our cabin for a bit?”

I spent the next two hours having my nails done, hair crimped, and various layers of powders and creams applied to my face. I chewed pink bubble gum and listened while the girls filled out love quizzes in their magazines. Lacey's cabin was much larger and even had curtains on the windows. Her own bedroom was actually a room, not a closet.

It was like some kind of alternate universe. Everything was clean and smelled fresh. No one burped or farted. None of the girls called each other names like “meat stain” or “dick breath.”

The girls began to ask me questions about the boys.

“Do they talk about us?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do they think I'm funny?”

They don't care.

“Did Liam notice my hair today?”

He noticed your boobs.

I was like a visiting dignitary from a newly found continent, and they were the explorers, hungry for answers about my mysterious tribe. Lacey was a great host and I started to think I had misjudged her.

“Girls are so much easier,” she whispered. “I don't know how you stand those boys.”

When I was sure the horror fest at Cabin 4A was over, I thanked the paleontologists and returned to the boys. Kirk was in the room with them, playing the last round. They all stopped talking and stared at me.

“What?” I asked.

“You look like a girl,” Liam said.

I hadn't even looked at myself before I left Lacey. The makeup suddenly weighed a ton on my face. I probably looked like a clown. I stood back and held the door as they gathered up the video games.

Each boy took a piece of equipment and helped carry it back to wherever the secret treasures were kept. I couldn't even look Kirk in the eye.

I took in our messy cabin. “I look like a girl because that's what I am,” I whispered to the walls—a good comeback but a little too late.

There was a small cough from the porch. It was one of the cupettes.

“Hey there,” I said.

She twirled her blond ponytail. “I wanted to see you in person…like privately.”

“Oh?”

“Right, well, um…I'm sorry you didn't find your necklace. In crafts this afternoon, I made you one.” She held out a little box decorated with plastic gems and glitter glue.

“Thanks,” I said. “Sorry, what's your name again?”

“Diana,” she said. “But I mostly get Diane, everybody seems to leave off the ‘a' at the end.”

“That must be frustrating.”

“Yeah,” she laughed.

I turned the bejewelled case in my hands, examining the detail. “This is so awesome, thanks.”

“Your name is on it,” she said, “just in case you lose this one too.” She stayed on the porch, and snuck a look through the window.

“The guys are returning the video games,” I told her.

“Um…could you maybe do me a favour?” She gave me a pink envelope folded a few times. “Please give this to Liam.”

“Okay. Do you want me to tell him it's from you?”

“No. He'll know.”

I heard familiar joking and turned to see my boys walking across the lawn. “Wait and give it to him yourself,” I said. But she had already started running back to her own cabin.

All four arrived, pushing and shoving. As the first three went into the cabin, I took the last twin aside, so the others wouldn't see.

“Here,” I put the envelope in his hand and leaned in close. “A cute blond from Lacey's cabin dropped this off for you.”

He frowned at the pink envelope. Then, just like his admirer had done, he snuck a quick look inside the cabin. I'm sure he read that note five times before going inside. I couldn't help but smile when he blushed and gently put the letter in his pocket.

I sat on my bed and opened my new jewellery box. I blinked a few times, realizing the universe has a wacky sense of humour. The colourful beads were meticulously knotted in place. I ran my fingers over the big letters in the middle, spelling my name: JAZZY.

Putting my necklace aside, I looked at my diary, wondering what I should leave out from this entry. I decided that would be useless, and that there was no point in writing in it anymore. Damn it. Spencer had even screwed that up for me. I threw it onto my duffel bag in the corner, and got ready for bed.

My feet kept
the rhythm, my arms were the tempo, and my breath was steady and sure. My ponytail streamed out behind me. The sun was warm on my face.

“Feet and lungs, Jesse,” Dad called out.

I knew I was dreaming. I ran for hours, it seemed, without ever getting tired.

“Hey, Legs!” Grandma was beside me, handing me a dish of deep fried ice cream.

I woke up, trying to hold on to the feeling of running. It was the freedom I missed as much as the wind through my hair.

I grabbed my bathrobe and snuck out the window, avoiding the stench of my little men. Barefoot, I ran through the dewy grass and left footprints to the end of the dock. Krystal Lake perfectly reflected the shore line, spreading out in front of me.

My dream about Grandma reminded me of her list. The last week had been a gruelling test, and now I felt like I was doing this to prove a point. And just like Chloe reminded me, you can't take the competition out of the girl.

Nobody puts Baby in the corner.

The bugle call wouldn't wake the campers for at least another hour; I'd have the whole lake to myself. I dropped my bathrobe, slipped out of my underwear and soccer T-shirt, and dove in before I could change my mind.

Holy crap.
The water was freezing!

I forced myself to stay in and tread water. As my muscles warmed up I began to relax. I planned to stay close to the dock, but the float was too tempting, the risk too exhilarating to ignore.

My strokes sliced through the flat surface. The water was refreshing, making me feel alive. I stopped swimming and tilted my face toward the sky, stretching out my arms and legs. I floated on my back, tits up to the sun, like Da Vinci's Vitruvian man.

It. Was. Awesome.