Girl on the Run (4 page)

S
ince the other kid was a no-show and Spencer's whining about starving to death made me want to break his iPhone for real, the Three Musketeers and I walked up the grassy slope to the Main Hall. There would be a lunch buffet, welcoming announcements, and the official opening of Kamp Krystal Lake.

The boys made a dash for the food lineup, putting as much distance between me and them as they could. Once I had my plate of spaghetti and meatballs, I scanned the long rows of tables and benches that were filling up. Not one familiar face. Anonymity, I now understood with a sinking feeling, comes with a price.

The tray felt dangerously lopsided in my sweaty hands as I walked around groups of kids, hoping to find any empty space to slink into.

“Just Jesse,” Kirk said, right behind me. “You're still here. That's a good sign.”

I straightened my back, and switched to offensive mode, ready for another staring contest. We were both in flip-flops and my eyes came to his chin. He stared at my necklace. For a second I couldn't breathe. He cleared his throat, making eye contact again. “The boys' cabins can seem a bit rough for a girl.”

“You have no idea how tough I am.” I turned away, purposely paused for a moment, and then faced him again. He was still standing there, half a smirk on his face. I reached into my pocket and handed him Spencer's iPhone, like I was Perseus giving Athena the head of Medusa. “Here you go,” I said. “Apparently Spencer was under the impression he's above the rules.”

The look of surprise on his face was gratifying. Of course, I didn't mention that Spencer threw it at me and then it fell to the floor and smashed.

A huge belch from the far end of the room made us both turn.

“Time to join your table,” he said, nodding to my Three Musketeers.

Well, that victory was short lived, I thought. “I'm still waiting for the other kid,” I said.

“He's already with the others.”

A head of thick black hair had joined Spencer and the twins.

“His name is Scotty,” Kirk said. Then he walked by me without a glance.

Jerk.

I plunked my tray beside Spencer's and sat opposite the new kid. “Hi, I'm Jesse,” I said.

“I know,” he smiled. “I'm Scotty.”

“Did you get a chance to unpack your stuff?” I asked.

“Yup,” he nodded. “I know my way around. I've been coming here for a while.”

Since meeting Devin, this was the first pleasant conversation I'd had all day. Scotty was my favourite already. And what about Devin? Where was he? My eyes scanned the room, but there were too many people. I tried not to get my hopes up; he was probably nice to all the new girls.

Yeah, that's me, the new girl, still striking out with the boys. Grandma's condoms might as well be a pair of moon boots, since I have a better chance of travelling to outer space than having sex this summer.

What was wrong with me? I couldn't care less about making out. Besides, what I really wanted I could never have. What I really wanted, I didn't deserve.

I half-listened to the boys' discussion about the latest horror video game. High praise was being given to the amount of blood spilled. I twirled my spaghetti on the spoon, watching Liam talk with Duff. Their hand movements were so fluid it was quite beautiful, actually.

“It's rude to stare,” Liam said.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I find it fascinating. Do you think you could teach me?”

Liam and Duff exchanged a glance.

“Um, yeah,” Liam agreed. “Sure.”

They taught me about ten signs in a few minutes. “The real secret to doing it well,” Liam said, “is to practice every day.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. Hurdle number two successfully cleared. But I was cautiously optimistic. I hadn't had this many highs and lows in one day since Grandma and I broke the record for most consecutive turns on the Cyclone roller coaster last summer vacation.

Spencer had finished with his meal, and was now working on dessert. A thick slice of blueberry pie lay oozing on his plate.

“Oh man, are you going to eat that whole thing?” Liam asked.

“The blueberry pie here is the best,” Spencer said. He looked up at me. “You should try a slice.”

The background chatter quieted as the camp director stood up at the front of the room. A thick brown braid snaked from under her Tilley hat, wrapping over her shoulder and down her chest. With a clipboard in one hand and a megaphone in the other, I could tell she was all meat and potatoes.

“Welcome to another summer at Kamp Krystal Lake,” she began. “I know everyone is anxious to get outside, so I'm going to make this quick. Any kind of electronic device, including cell phones, is strictly prohibited. Your parents did not pay good money to have you texting two-word sentences eighteen hours a day.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched Spencer stab a blueberry with his fork. He was probably picturing my eyeballs with each jab.

She mentioned a few more items, and then announced something about a talent show and a cabin-decorating contest. This resulted in an explosion of giggles from one of the girls' tables. From the expression on the boys' faces, I had a suspicion Cabin 4A wouldn't be participating.

“And finally the triathlon,” she said. The whole room became animated with cheering and yelling. Some people even stood up and clapped.

“What's that all about?” I asked Scotty.

“It's the annual summer competition between the camps that share the lake,” he explained.

“There's other camps close by?” I asked. My voice picked up at the thought of a transfer. Why hadn't Kirk even mentioned that? Oh, right, because he's a jerk.

“I wouldn't say they're close,” Scotty said. “Krystal Lake is so huge it'd take all day to get to them by canoe. The only time we see them is during the competition.”

“Oh.” My voice dropped. I sucked at paddling.

Scotty picked at his thumbnail. “We've never won,” he said. “Ever.” His tone was clipped, clearly frustrated with his camp's lack of success.

I noticed the main hall was still buzzing. It seemed most of the kids were hungry for a victory.

If this were an after-school special, I could anticipate how my summer would go. I looked down at my half-eaten spaghetti. This was no after-school special. The triathlon was not my sport. I would never have a sport again.

Then a horrific thought occurred to me. My hands gripped the edge of the bench and my legs prickled with pins and needles. Is that why I was hired? Get the track and field star to win the race and end Kamp Krystal Lake's losing streak? I never did see what the guidance counsellor put on my application form.

“New counsellors, please stand when I say your name,” the director ordered.

I uncurled my fingers and focused on breathing. Stand and wave. I could do that.

People did a speedy up and down, giving barely enough time to connect the face to the name. There were only a few of us who were new. Most of the other counsellors had been here before.

“Jessica Jesse,” she called out.

Are you kidding me?

I stood up, grateful my somewhat flat hair was covering my burning ears. The polite applause was punctuated by a whistle. I finally found Devin, and returned his smile.

“Jesse!” Scotty whispered.

I sat back down, and immediately knew I wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. A quick glance to my left confirmed my suspicion. Spencer's plate of sloppy blueberry pie was no longer in front of him. The warm sensation underneath me was spreading, and I pictured the purple stain making its way through my white shorts.

I
didn't need to read sign language to interpret Duff's comment to Liam. Spencer had one of those satisfied smirks that only a little bastard could pull off. Scotty, the one with a shred of conscience, couldn't even meet my gaze.

I turned to Spencer. “You finished your pie quickly,” I said.

“I love pie,” he replied. “But the pastry goes straight to my ass.”

The snickering ensued for several minutes and I looked around, desperate for an escape.

“What kind of a name is Jessica Jesse, anyway?” Liam asked, immune to my embarrassment.

I gritted my teeth. “It's just Jesse,” I said. Duff made two quick motions with his right baby finger.

“What?” I growled, trying to think of a plan.

“We'll just call you J.J.,” Liam answered.

The camp director finished her announcements by reminding everyone of the fireworks tonight on the beach.

“I love fireworks!” Spencer cooed, clasping his hands together. I imagined mashing a slice of pie into his face.

As everyone filed out the door, I sat waiting. The only plan I could think of was to stay put for now and eventually get my purple butt back to the cabin unnoticed. The room was almost clear, but my boys weren't moving.

“Get going,” I hissed.

“I'm actually kind of interested to see how you're going to get out of this,” Liam said.

The camp director walked by and scanned our table with narrowed eyes. She gazed at me with a mix of pity and support. “Let me know if you need anything, Jessica,” she offered.

“Yes, ma'am. And it's just Jesse.” I gave her a small fake smile, not sure how she could help me at this moment. She joined the others leaving the main hall, anxious to start the afternoon activities.

I reached up
and automatically rubbed the silver disc on my necklace.

At the 1936 Berlin Olympics, Jesse Owens defied Hitler's master race theory by becoming the first American track and field athlete to win four gold medals in a single Games—no small feat for a young Black man competing in Nazi Germany. It was a record that stood unbroken for forty-eight years. And if Jesse Owens could stand up to Hitler, I could certainly handle blueberry pie.

Crying and talking about tampons wasn't going to work. I leaned in close, staring Spencer down like he was the finish line in the provincial finals. “I don't care what your motive is,” I said, “but you're going to have to do better than this if you want to scare me away.”

Duff signed. “That sounds like a challenge,” Liam interpreted.

“I can run back to the cabin for a change of clothes for you,” Scotty offered.

“Actually,” Spencer said, “You've been a good sport, J.J. I'll go back for you.”

I pictured the backpack full of snakes. “No thanks,” I said. “I don't need your help.”

Devin approached our table. My insides began to liquefy. The only guy who wasn't a total jerk, and may even have been interested in me, would see my butt covered in purple goo.

Spencer stood up. “Hey there,” he said to Devin. “Take my seat, I was just leaving.”

“No!” I said.

Devin frowned and put his hands in his pockets. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“You bet! Um…I was telling the guys they should hurry before all the good canoes are taken.”

Good canoes? Brilliant.

“Don't mind our J.J.,” Spencer gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Her boyfriend broke up with her this morning, and she just started her period.”

Time seemed to stand still. No one moved or breathed.

I was sinking fast. I treated the situation like the long jump. Run hard. Hit your mark. And fly.

I took a deep breath and stared right back at Devin. “I need a favour,” I said.

“Yeah?” he said, uneasily.

Run hard.

“Can you take these guys to their afternoon activity, and tell the other counsellor I'll be a few minutes late?”

“Um, okay…sure.”

Hit your mark.

I smiled back at Devin. He pretty much snapped his fingers and the boys stood at attention. They followed out of the main hall behind him, not daring to utter a single complaint.

And fly.

Now that the room was empty, I held the plate against my butt and quickly shuffled to the swinging door at the front of the room.

The industrial kitchen had stainless steel counters with a long wooden island in the middle. The dishwasher machines were already chugging while pots and pans soaked in a large sink under the window. Two brightly flowered aprons were hung up on pegs by the back screen door. I could hear voices lightly chuckling just outside. Guessing the kitchen staff would be back from their break soon, I hurried to the large sink, and hopped out of my shorts. Of all the days to wear the white pair! I scrubbed them under the running water.

I prepared myself for the walk back. “Yeah, I know,” I'd have to say, laughing like I just told the best joke ever. “I sat on a piece of pie.” Stupidly, I was more embarrassed by the fact that my cabin hated me, than the trick itself.

But that wasn't me anymore, right? This is my summer of freedom—to hell with Spencer and his stupid prank.

The screen door at the back opened and closed. Footsteps walked into the room, then stopped.

Uh-oh.

I closed my eyes and started to pray. Please be a nice girl. Please do not let it be Devin. And please, please, please don't let it be Kirk.

“Can I help you?” a guy's voice asked.

I was fresh out of training metaphors. The only thing I had left was the truth. “It's blueberry pie,” I said.

He leaned his tall, thin frame against the counter with his toned arms at his sides. He pushed up his glasses.
Javelin thrower
, I thought. His eyes did a quick scan of the situation. “You must have a really fast digestive system,” he said, looking at the sink.

He smiled a bit, then we burst out laughing. He threw me the two flowered aprons, which I overlapped around me like a big skirt. Then he got some bleach from under the sink. “It's okay,” he said, nodding to the bright aprons. “The Brasseau sisters do most of the prep work, they won't be back until lunch.” As my shorts soaked, he gave me another slice of pie with vanilla ice cream, and we chatted.

Lewis was one of the kitchen crew. The Brasseau sisters, he explained, had been cooking for the camp every summer since it first opened twenty years ago, but he was here for a reason other than a summer income. He graduated from high school last year, and was going out west to study culinary arts at the Vancouver Arts Institute in the fall. This was his second year at Krystal Lake, and he knew mostly everyone by name, including Spencer.

“I think he did it as retaliation,” I said.

“Sounds like his style.” He did a quick check on my shorts. “Are you going to tell the head counsellor?”

“Kirk?” I blurted out. “No way. He's waiting for me to run into the office asking for a bus ticket home.” I glanced up at the clock above the stove. “I gotta go. I told Devin I'd only be a few minutes.”

“Hold on, I'll be right back.” Lewis returned with a pair of sweatpants. “Your legs are nicer than mine,” he said, “but we're almost the same height.”

I left the kitchen wearing the sweatpants and ran across the green slope to Cabin 4A. I changed into my blue Adidas shorts, and ran down the stairs of the porch.

Across the lawn, Devin called my name. I waved back and he jogged up to me. “Hey,” he said, between breaths. “The kids are on a hike with Lacey's group. I told them you'd catch up.” He pointed toward the woods. “You should reach them in a couple of minutes.”

“Awesome. Thanks.” I headed toward the trail.

“Um…J.J.?”

I turned around. “Yeah?”

“Did…did you really break up with your boyfriend this morning?”

His stammer made me smile for some reason. “No.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his sneakers.

“There was no boyfriend to break up with.”

His head whipped back up. “Excellent, cool then.”

Devin ran back down to the beach. I'd been going to track meets for years, seeing guys in great shape, but I was more interested in staring at the finish line. Watching Devin lope across the lawn like a well-conditioned stud machine brought a totally new feeling. Now that I wasn't competing, I could enjoy the surrounding view. Devin caught me looking, and waved back.

I made my way into the woods and soon found them. Lacey's group was up ahead, walking single file and filling the air with excited chatter. My guys lagged behind, grumbling and tearing leaves off branches.

Liam gave Duff a nudge. “This is so stupid,” he complained. Their hands moved, passing ideas back and forth. “I know,” Liam said. “First a nerdy counsellor, then this.”

Nerdy?

“I'm here,” I called out. Everyone stopped and turned around. I felt stupid just standing there so I gave a little wave. Spencer kicked at the dirt, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Perfect,” Lacey smiled brilliantly. “Girls, say hi to Jessica.”

“Hi, Jessica,” they sang.

“No,” I said, “just Jesse.”

“Perfect, Jazzy.” Lacey flicked her ponytail then continued with the hike.

I let her mistake slide, tired of correcting people on my name. I followed along, purposely staying in the back, content with daydreams about Devin. Every make out scene from every movie I'd ever seen, or book I'd ever read, flashed through my mind. Except in my version, Devin and I were the stars.

I'd had crushes before, and my pathetic kissing history spoke for itself, but this was totally new. An instant attraction. I wanted to know how it would feel to grab him by the shoulders and lay one on him. I kept replaying the moment when he turned around and waved at me. And I swear to Grandma, my ovaries jumped up and down.