Authors: Melissa J Morgan

Camp Confidential 05 - TTYL (13 page)

BOOK: Camp Confidential 05 - TTYL

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They sat on a stone bench and changed into their Rollerblades, shoving their shoes into their bags. Then they started skating slowly through the park, winding their way along the paths. Natalie loved Central Park, especially in the early autumn, when the grass was bright green, the sky was a brilliant blue, the trees were just beginning to change colors, and everyone in the park seemed to be in a great mood as they lounged on blankets, Rollerbladed or ran, pushed baby strollers, and played with dogs. It was Hannah and Natalie’s favorite place to come, any time of the year, but especially during the first month of school. For as long as Nat could remember, they’d made a point of coming to the park a few times a week. When they were young, they’d come with their mothers, but now, they’d go alone. And they’d always get a Frappuccino, or ice cream, or lemonade. It wasn’t that Natalie minded being there without Hannah, and with Kyle. She just wished that Hannah wasn’t mad at her.

In fact, Hannah being mad at her was enough to put Natalie in a bad mood.
I can’t believe this
, she thought.
I’ve been looking forward to my first date for, like, my whole life.
She decided to put on a happy face. “So, Kyle,” she said. “What did you do this summer?”

“Oh, you know, that acting school,” he said, turning to look at Nat.

“Right, duh,” Natalie replied. “Was it fun?”

“Yeah, it was really fun. I learned a lot.”

“Cool,” Nat said.

“So, you had a boyfriend this summer, huh?” Kyle asked quietly.

Natalie whipped her head to look at him. “What?”

“Simon, or whatever. The guy Hannah was talking about.”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Okay. Do you still talk to him?” Natalie thought she heard a little jealousy in Kyle’s voice.

“I haven’t talked to him since camp,” she said honestly. But she felt slightly annoyed that she was being forced to defend herself.

“Oh, cool,” Kyle replied, looking visibly less nervous.

They skated in semi-silence for a half an hour or so. And for the first time in her life, Natalie found herself not able to think of anything to say.
Quick, Nat, come up with something,
she thought.
Anything. TV, sports, school. . . .
But she couldn’t think of a thing. She didn’t know what the problem was, whether it was Kyle talking about Simon, or feeling bad about Hannah.
I guess this Hannah thing is bothering me more than I expected,
she admitted to herself.
Or maybe dating’s just harder than I expected!
She remembered, though, that she and Simon had never had trouble coming up with things to talk about at camp. Could it be that Natalie and Simon just had more . . . chemistry? Whatever that meant, anyway.

She noticed that they had skated in several loops to end up near the opening to 79th Street. “Hey, Kyle?” Natalie said tentatively. “I think I should head home.”

Kyle looked taken aback. “Oh . . . okay,” he said. “Um . . . do you feel sick or something?”

She checked her watch—it was only four thirty. “I . . . uh . . . promised my mom I’d be home by five,” she lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. “And it’ll take me a little while to get there,” she added for good measure.

“Okay,” Kyle said. He looked at the ground. “Thanks for hanging out, Nat,” he said. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too!” Natalie said, forcing a smile.

I did have a good time
, she thought, as she skated down 79th Street toward Broadway.
But I just want to get home
. She was already looking forward to maybe ordering in some Thai food and relaxing on the couch in front of a good Hilary Duff DVD . . . and not thinking about friends or boys or about growing up. Just being Natalie. Wasn’t that perfectly okay?

To: Alyssa11
From: NatalieNYC
Subject: Boys, etc . . . .

hey, alyssa. so, today i went on a date with kyle (you remember, i talked about him at camp). it was okay. i mean, it was fun—we went rollerblading in central park. but he’s not as cool as simon was. he didn’t want to stop and get frappuccinos . . . and i don’t know. it just wasn’t what i expected. he’s a fun guy, but . . . he kept asking me about simon. and i just didn’t feel like explaining anything. we didn’t have that much to say to each other. sort of a letdown.

i guess part of the problem is my friend hannah. she’s been really weird since i got back from camp. saying things about me having boyfriends, and just acting generally un-hannah-like. and the other day, when i was going off on my date with kyle, hannah got really awkward about it. it really put me in a terrible mood.

i’m having a good time in middle school, but i feel like everything’s different. hannah’s different, or else she just thinks i am, and instead of just hanging out with someone, you have to be their girlfriend. it’s too much pressure. it makes me want to curl up in my room—with some fashion magazines, of course—and not come out till high school.

the thing is, hannah thinks i shouldn’t have a boyfriend, much less two boyfriends. but i don’t! i really like simon, and i like kyle—or, I did before today—but i’m not planning my wedding or anything. why can’t i hang out with both of them?

what should i do? should i call simon back? or should i just forget about boys altogether? and should i talk to hannah, or just let her get over it? AHHHH! i wish this was easier. who knew middle school would cause so many problems??

i’d better go—my mom just got home. i’m going to convince her to order in thai food.

luv, nat

chapter
EIGHT

Alex>
WEDNESDAY

Alex had never been so pumped in her life. It was the final moments of their first soccer game, and the Rockets were up by four points, meaning they’d definitely beat the Chargers. She couldn’t believe it, but she was so into the game that it almost didn’t matter that she wasn’t actually playing. Almost.

The minute the thought had popped into her brain, everything changed.

“Okay, Alex, you’re going in for Carla,” the coach said.

At first, Alex thought she’d heard wrong. “Seriously?” she asked excitedly. Her stomach did back flips. She was nervous, but she couldn’t wait to get out on the field. After looking up into the stands and giving her mom a thumbs-up, she checked to make sure that her hair was tightly in place and that her shoelaces were tied. The coach blew her whistle to signal a time-out. Coach Gregorson motioned for Carla to come off the field, and Carla ran off.

She and Alex high-fived as Alex ran onto the field. Once the coach blew her whistle again, the game was back on. Alex was afraid her knees were going to buckle beneath her, but as her feet found the ball, her confidence returned. Soccer was as natural to Alex as breathing. Suddenly, Alex found herself kicking the ball down the field, weaving through her opponents until she was directly in front of the goal, unguarded.
Yes!
she thought. There was no doubt in her mind: She was going to make this goal.

Everyone in the stands was cheering and whistling, but Alex blocked out all the noise as she made for the goal. She raised her right foot to kick the ball into the goal, watching only the opposing team’s goalie and waiting for the perfect moment. She lowered her foot toward the ball, readied herself, and . . .

Suddenly found herself on her back, with her ankle twisted in excruciating, red-hot pain. For a minute, she couldn’t figure out what had happened, and then Alex realized she’d been tripped. She looked up and saw Cindy standing there, a terrified look on her face. “Oh, man,” Cindy said. “Oh no. Are you okay?” The cheering in the stands turned to worried silence, and the referee blew his whistle, stopping the game.

Alex couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Did you trip me?” she whispered incredulously.

“No!” Cindy said, backing away. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, I swear Alex, I’d never do that.”

“What happened?” Coach Gregorson asked, standing above Alex. She bent down. “Are you all right, Alex?” she asked softly.

“I’m okay. Cindy—I don’t know what happened, but I was about to kick the ball and then I was on the ground,” Alex replied. Her chin trembled. “My leg really, really hurts.”

The coach looked to the sidelines, motioning for the school nurse to come to the field. As the nurse made her way to the field, Coach asked, “Cindy, what happened?”

“I was just coming up behind her to help,” Cindy said plaintively. “She slowed down and I didn’t realize it, and all of a sudden I was right behind her, and as she lowered her foot I just—”

“Okay,” Coach said. “I’m sure it was an accident. Regardless, it looks to me like Alex has sprained her ankle. Alex, is your mom here?”

Alex sat up a bit and looked toward the bleachers, shading her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “The lady with the brown hair by the bottom of the bleachers.” She looked up to see that her mother was already on her way down, a nervous expression on her face.

Nurse Clain, breathless and red-faced from hurrying onto the field, arrived and kneeled down beside Alex. She picked up Alex’s foot, asking, “Does this hurt?”

Alex nodded her head. “It doesn’t feel broken. I broke my ankle once and it wasn’t like this.”

“I think it’s just a sprain,” the nurse said comfortingly. “If it was a break, you’d be in agonizing pain right now.”

Alex’s mom ran up then and crouched down. “Honey, are you okay?” she asked, her eyebrows knit together in a worried frown.

“My leg hurts,” Alex replied. She bit her lip as tears started to sting her eyes. “It hurts a lot,” she went on, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally making their way down her face. “But I can move it, a little.”

“Good,” Nurse Clain responded. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and leaned over to wipe the tears from Alex’s face. “I’m sure it’s just a sprain, but let’s take you to the emergency room to find out.”

“I’ll go pull around the car,” Alex’s mom said.

“Great. We’re going to help you up, Alex,” Coach said. “Put your arms around our shoulders, and try to hop on your other foot.”

Alex sat up and looked at Cindy. The older girl looked petrified, her face ghost white. She clenched her hands to her mouth as the coach and the nurse reached down to help Alex to her feet.

As she hopped off the field, the onlookers rose to their feet and clapped for her.

“Alex,” Coach Gregorson said, as they headed toward the parking lot, “you were great out there.” Alex gingerly got into the passenger seat of her mom’s red station wagon. “I’m really impressed. I think you may be playing more this year than any of us thought you would.”

“Really?” Alex replied. “Thanks, Coach!”

Her leg throbbed and her face was still wet and tear-stained, but Alex didn’t care. Even though she got hurt, she had definitely kicked butt on the field that afternoon. She had proven her worth to her coach—and to herself!

The nurse was right: It was just a sprain, much to Alex’s relief. When she and her mom got home from the hospital, her mom set her up in a comfortable chair in the living room, put in a DVD of Alex’s favorite movie, and handed her the remote. “I’ll make you dinner,” she said, tucking a comfortable, multicolored blanket around Alex. “What do you want? Anything at all.”

Alex thought for a minute. “Um . . . how about chicken stir-fry?” she said.

“Okay, honey. Sit tight.”

Alex started watching the movie, and when dinner was ready, her mom sat down in the living room to watch with her.

The phone rang, and Alex’s mom went to pick it up. “Hello?” she said. “Al, it’s for you—it’s Bridgette.”

“Really?” Alex asked. “Uh . . . okay.” She hadn’t even seen Bridgette at school that day, except for in math, where they hadn’t had time to talk. Bridgette took gymnastics after school and therefore couldn’t come to Alex’s game. Her mom handed her the cordless phone and walked back toward the kitchen.

“Hi, Bridgette,” Alex said tentatively.

“Hey, Al,” Bridgette replied, a note of concern in her voice. “I heard about what happened during the soccer game! Are you okay?”

BOOK: Camp Confidential 05 - TTYL

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