The Great Scavenger Hunt (4 page)

Later that evening, just before bed, Charlotte saw that she had an e-mail.
That's weird
, she thought as she saw it came from Mrs. Summers's computer.

Charlotte wrote back immediately.

T
he week dragged on so slowly for Charlotte that she wondered if it would be possible to invent some way to fast-forward time.
How great would it be to skip over the annoying parts and press play for the fun ones?
She wondered what that would be like for each of the BSG. Avery would probably fast-forward everything that wasn't soccer and recess, Maeve would pause her every moment in the spotlight, and Katani would skip all the way to her dream future as CEO of Kgirl Enterprises. Isabel would probably be the only BSG who might decide to play everything at normal speed—she wouldn't want to miss anything beautiful or interesting that came her way.

When Saturday morning finally arrived, Charlotte leaped out of bed and ran to the window. She was pleased to see that her patience had been rewarded—it was a
breathtakingly gorgeous day outside. The kind of day that just screamed,
Hey, let's go to the beach!
And Charlotte, knowing that was exactly the plan, twirled around her room, feeling like she might just float away with excitement.

“Time to get ready, Charlotte,” her father called up to her. “Be down soon, Dad!” Charlotte pulled out her journal from her bottom desk drawer and slipped her lucky jean jacket over her shoulders. Charlotte's journal was where she kept all her deepest thoughts and secrets, and the jean jacket was her most prized possession. It used to belong to her mother, who had died when Charlotte was little. She missed her mother dreadfully some days, but wearing the jacket, especially when she was writing, made Charlotte feel comfy and inspired. Her most creative thoughts came out when she wore that jacket.

She wrapped the jacket tightly around her shoulders, opened her journal, and began.

“Knock knock,” said Charlotte's father, rapping lightly at her open door. Charlotte turned as she heard the mournful yipping of the official BSG mascot, Marty, who was smart enough to know when Charlotte was going to be leaving him, even if only for an overnight. “Are you all packed and ready to roll?” asked Mr. Ramsey, poking his head into her room.

Marty leaped into her room and right into Charlotte's
arms, covering her with little dog kisses. Charlotte nodded, and rubbed the little dude's belly. “I was packed on Thursday night. And, Dad?” Charlotte put on a pair of sunglasses and said in a low voice, “I was
born
ready.”

“That's my global girl…ready to travel at the drop of a hat.” Mr. Ramsey chuckled and picked up Charlotte's backpack to carry downstairs. “I really wish I was going with you kids. Too bad I have this conference in Chicago.”

“I know. But you'll have fun in Chicago. You love those professor brainiac writing conventions.”

“Oh, yes. We professors do adore our brainiac conventions. I'm thinking of running for treasurer of the brainiacs,” Mr. Ramsey joked as he loaded up the car. “Say bye, Marty! You be good for Miss Pierce!” Marty howled a tragic good-bye bark as Ms. Pierce waved his paw. Charlotte blew him kisses from the car. The little dude would be just fine with the Ramsey's kindly landlady and downstairs neighbor taking care of him for the weekend.

“I am a little sad that I'm not going along,” her father said on the ride over.

“Next time, Dad,” Charlotte promised. “I'll fill you in on everything when we get back!”

But the truth was Charlotte felt a little relieved and excited that they didn't have any parents chaperoning the trip. As much as she loved her travel writer father, Charlotte was looking forward to having a friends-only trip to the Cape. It made her feel so very grown up.

When she and her father arrived at Abigail Adams Junior High, the first thing Charlotte noticed was the mayhem. The
parking lot was an absolute zoo of kids, cars, and worried parents trying to figure out who was in charge. Charlotte's stomach did a little flutter. Who
was
responsible here?

“Are you sure you want me to leave you in this circus?” asked Mr. Ramsey. Charlotte almost giggled at her father's face—he looked more nervous than she felt!

“I'll be fine, Dad. If it wasn't complete craziness it wouldn't be a BSG adventure, right?”

As Charlotte hugged her father good-bye, she looked around for a familiar face.

Katani and Patrice marched over, looking especially cranky. “Some little boy in an army suit just spilled ice cream on my foot and ran away. Honestly, what kind of parent gives their kid ice cream at eight a.m. on a Saturday?” bemoaned Patrice. “And why are there little kids running around, anyway…and where is everyone?”

“We're not morning people,” Katani grumbled in explanation to Charlotte, who looked a little uncomfortable at Patrice's outburst.

“All I know is that we'd better get this game on,” Patrice declared. “'Cause our team is going to be one lean, mean, scavenger-hunting machine!”

“Yoo-hoo! Ladies!” Maeve Kaplan-Taylor skipped over. She was decked out in a pair of seashell pink shorts, a white-and-blue-striped sailor shirt, and matching starfish earrings and necklace. “You girls like my look? I call it Seagirl or Maeve on the Seashore…. I haven't settled on an exact name yet.”

Charlotte shook her head. She couldn't believe that she
had a best girlfriend who actually named her looks, but she adored Maeve for being the kind of girl who did.

“BTW, have you guys seen my dad and my brother?” asked Maeve. “Sam has been on the warpath with his new squirt gun. I
told
them they could leave, but…”

“En garde!”
piped a little boy wearing full army garb who suddenly jumped out from behind a Volkswagen, brandishing a squirt gun in one hand and a dripping half-eaten ice-cream cone in the other. “Take that!” And before the girls had a moment to run, they were all super soaked. “Ha ha! The ice-cream bandit strikes again!” Sam shouted in triumph and disappeared into the crowd leaving a trail of ice-cream puddles in his wake.

“Well, that solves
that
mystery!” Patrice remarked, shaking her sticky right foot.

“Your little brother, Maeve…is completely wild!” Katani moaned, wringing water out of her hand-beaded T-shirt.

“Sam's not the only one here in a costume,” whispered Isabel, who'd just walked up from behind to join the group. “Check it out….”

Betsy Fitzgerald was waltzing over with a grown man in tow who looked like he'd just stepped out of the Revolutionary War.

“Are they serious?” Maeve's eyes widened. The man was wearing britches and carrying a musket!

“Hey, be nice—that's Betsy's father,” Charlotte said, reminding her friends of Betsy's little speech in class the week before.

“Why didn't anyone tell me that this was where Nerd-opalooza was meeting?” Kiki Underwood sauntered over from a gleaming red convertible, speaking loud enough to evoke giggles from a few people around her.

Avery scowled. She did not find Kiki funny at all and she hated it when Kiki made fun of other kids.

Charlotte, for her part, was relieved that Betsy was so busy showing off her costumed father to Mr. Moore and spouting out facts about Paul Revere that she completely missed Kiki's remark.

“Hey, Char, I've been looking everywhere for you.”

Charlotte started when she heard the familiar voice. She couldn't help feeling slightly off-kilter every time she saw Nick Montoya. Sure, it went away after a few minutes and then they were totally cool. Because Nick was just like her buddy…a buddy with deep, chocolate eyes and the most adorable little wave in his hair…
STOP!
Charlotte firmly ordered herself.
This is Nick Montoya, and we planned this trip. Get a grip. Hey, that rhymed….

“Nicholas, there you are. Fashionably late as usual.” Maeve kissed the air near Nick's head. Nick looked at Maeve like a UFO might have just unloaded a half gorilla–half space creature hybrid onto the city of Brookline.

“Hi, Maeve. Um, Charlotte…we need to get going and no one is doing anything about it….” Nick gestured at the busy parking lot. In one corner Mr. Moore and his wife were talking to Henry Yurt's father, a professor at MIT, about the positive effects of organic feed on cows. Ms. O'Reilly was rummaging around in the back of
a minivan, and Dillon Johnson and Avery were flinging a Frisbee back and forth.

“Well, I found one chaperone who wants to make her team into a—” Charlotte began.

“Lean, mean, scavenger-hunting machine,” finished Patrice, folding her arms smartly. “So who's with me?”

“Ummm…,” Nick started, glancing at Charlotte.

“I'll get the team assignments,” she promised, and trotted over to Ms. O'Reilly, who had just pulled a canvas tote bag full of envelopes out of her van.

Charlotte handed out one bundle each for Patrice, Fabiana Montoya, and Ben Briggs, who had just arrived with his sister, Chelsea, toting all the team cameras. Patrice held up a manila envelope labeled
TEAM SALTY
and cleared her throat. “All right, shorties. Let me show you how the big kids play! Listen up, everybody! If you are any of the following people, please report to my office IMMEDIATELY!”

Patrice opened the envelope in her hand very dramatically, like she was announcing an Academy Award. Maeve clasped her hands together accordingly. “My team, the Salty Cods, are…Dillon Johnson, Riley Lee, Charlotte Ramsey, and my very own little sis, Katani Summers!”

Charlotte felt a sudden stab of disappointment. Nick wasn't on her team? In a way it made sense; Mr. Moore had put Katani with her sister, so maybe Nick was with his sister. Or maybe the teachers thought there should be one trip organizer on each team.

“I'm Dillon,” shouted a voice from the Frisbee game,
“and no one told me where your office was….”

“RIGHT HERE—you ready to roll?” Patrice cheered. Katani wanted to hide. Patrice sounded like a drill sergeant and their trip hadn't even started! And wouldn't you know it? All the other chaperones started to follow Patrice's lead.

Ben Briggs of the Beach Barnacles, in a milder voice than Patrice's, gathered his brigade—Avery Madden, Henry Yurt, Chelsea Briggs, and (
gag
) Kiki Underwood—with a direct “Barnacles, over here, now!” Fabiana Montoya's team, the Cranberry Boggers, was composed of the remaining students: Betsy Fitzgerald, Maeve Kaplan-Taylor, Danny Pellegrino, Isabel Martinez, and Nick Montoya.

Maeve was elated to be on Nick's older sister's team. With her long, silky brown hair and colorful flowy shirts, Fabiana reminded Maeve of a pretty flower child of the sixties. She was always smiling and friendly, and an amazing actress. Exactly the kind of sister Maeve would have wished for if she had one of her own. And of course Isabel was a doll—always easy to get along with.

If only Riley were on the team, too!
Maeve sighed. They could talk music; maybe even sing some songs together. Maeve glanced at Nick shuffling his feet beside his big sister and suddenly had a fabulous idea. She put on her sunglasses and imagined she was a secret agent on a mission to Malibu. She was sure Nick would go through with her plan.

“Okay, kids, I am impressed!” declared Mr. Moore. “You've done a very effective job organizing yourselves after all.” He smiled as Chelsea, the other trip organizer,
took a picture of him in his black and white cow sweatshirt. Charlotte glanced at Nick with raised eyebrows, wondering if the grown-ups had left them alone on purpose. Maybe this do-it-yourself trip that they'd organized had a do-it-yourself theme. But Nick was busy talking to Maeve about something. Charlotte figured it was up to her to take charge.

“The team captains have sealed envelopes with all the clues and detailed maps of our search area!” Charlotte announced. The teams moved in closer. “They also have copies of your parents' signed permission slips and emergency contact info. When we arrive at the Cape, the teachers will drop us off at the start point—Nickerson State Park—and meet up with us when it's time for dinner.”

“Excellent work, Charlotte!” Ms. O'Reilly piped up. “We expect you kids to obey your high school chaperones and do everything they say.”

Avery rubbed her hands together. She couldn't wait to start. Then she noticed Kiki filing her nails and looking totally bored. But without Anna and Joline around, nobody seemed to care one bit what Kiki thought about anything.