Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (2 page)

BOOK: Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection
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“Um,” I said.

“Actually,” my mother interjected, “Sophie is going to be a
counselor at Smack Camp.”

Smack Camp? “She is?” I hadn't listened long enough to find
out what her punishment was going to be.

“Sarah just told me.”

My father grimaced. “Why would Sophie Singleton want to be a
counselor at the Spring Supplemental Magic Management Camp? She isn't exactly
the do-gooder type. Or the sleep in bunk-bed type now that I think about it.”

“Sophie is, um—.”

“—more mature than you realize,” my mother said,
saving me.

“Well, good for Sophie,” my father said. “I guess I've been
underestimating her.”

We should have taken that opportunity to come clean with
him, but neither of us did. Then it was too late.

My dad turned to me and said, “Can you get in on this, Emma?
Was there a deadline to apply? You have the week free now, and I'm sure they
could use the help.”

Me? I gasped. I hadn't seen this coming at all. I turned to
my mother with desperation.

Wide-eyed, my mother stared at my father.

My dad laughed. “Why so shocked, Sheila? I'm surprised you
didn't suggest it yourself.”

“I can't go to Smack Camp, Dad!”

“I'm not sure Emma is a good fit,” my mother stammered.

We were going to have to tell him the truth. It would feed
his dislike for Sophie, but I would be saved.

“Mom!” I urged.

Mom stood. “I'll check into it, hon, but I'm sure it's too
late. Let me make some calls.” She turned to me and gave me a pointed look over
the top of her glasses. “I'm sure they've filled all the counselor spots by
now.”

Dad got up and followed her to the kitchen. “Volunteering
should buy her some goodwill from the Council. I don't know why we didn't think
of this sooner. We've been trying to find a way to get her more interested in
her witch heritage.”

My dad had been freaking out, or as he put it, “voicing
concern” about my reluctance to practice magic. He was never going to let this
idea go. I grabbed my phone and texted Sophie. She had ruined my life just to
spend a couple hours with her stupid boyfriend. Smack Camp was remedial camp
for the kids who wouldn't follow the magic rules. These kids were walking time
bombs, and now I was headed for the blast zone.

 
 

Three weeks later, my legs glowed neon white as I stood with
the other counselors in my khaki shorts and navy Camp Cauldron hoodie. Sophie
hadn't bothered to tell me she had used some self-tanning cream on hers. I
glanced down at her golden legs, smiling when I noticed that she'd missed a
spot behind her knees. Still, my legs were a one on a scale of one to ten right
now. Hers were a solid nine. Well, maybe an eight. None of us were spared from
goose bumps on the cool late March morning.

The two guys for cabin four were Greg and Greg. Seriously.
The other two girl counselors were Jenny and Jenna. I was already thinking of
them as “The two J's.”

“My fingers are twitching,” Sophie whispered.

The camp director, Mrs. Laverdiere was fiftyish with curly,
red hair, a plastic sun visor, and heavily lipsticked lips, which had been
curved into a big, bright smile since we'd arrived. She had confiscated all of
our cell phones upon arrival. We were each allowed an hour in the evening with
our phones to touch base with family and friends. Otherwise, the campers
required our full attention.

“We'll survive,” I said. It seemed like I had lost a limb,
and I'd already reached into my pocket three times forgetting I no longer had
the phone. On the other hand, I didn't mind having some time with Sophie. She'd
hardly paid me any attention since she started dating Cole three months ago.
Even when we had girl time, she was constantly texting him.

Mrs. Laverdiere ended the call on her own cell phone and
came forward to address the eight of us. “I apologize,” she said, tucking her
phone into the pocket of her navy jacket. “I had to discuss some late
developments with a parent.”

“Why does she get to wear pants?” Sophie whispered.

The camp director turned our way, and I elbowed Sophie.

Ignoring Sophie's resulting squeak, Mrs. Laverdiere said,
“I'll be honest with you. We are short-handed. I don't know what we would have
done if Sophie and Emma hadn't volunteered just in time.” She smiled in our
direction. “Luckily, we have a light week. Most school systems in Tennessee and
Georgia opted for other spring break weeks. If we work hard, stay alert, and
pull together, we'll provide the campers with a terrific week of Spring
Supplemental Magic Management Camp. Oh, and that reminds me, no one here is to
use the derogatory term ‘Smack Camp.’”

One of the guys from cabin two, the tall,
ridiculously
good looking one, laughed. The shorter guy next to him rolled his eyes. They
definitely weren't best friends, like the two J's, but the director had paired
them in the same cabin. The taller one was Scott. Mrs. Laverdiere and the
other, Ian, shared a look.

Kids had been calling this Smack Camp since it started a few
years ago. Besides the acronym, S.S.M.M.C., the idea was that the kids who
ended up here were going to get in trouble no matter how many times they got
smacked upside the head. The kids were the ones who kept brewing self-serving
potions or using self-serving charms. All magic children went to Magic
Orientation Camp after second grade. The ones who didn't learn to control
themselves repeated the next year. I vaguely remembered a couple of kids who
repeated their summer when
me and Sophie
went. Milo
and Zoe were their names. They'd gotten kicked out the year before, even though
the kids they'd made bald were all bullies.

The council had started with interim training a few years
ago. Fall break weekends. Holiday camps. And the Spring Smack camp. The problem
with self-serving magic was the punishment. Something bad would happen to our
appearance. When your typical witch went
bad
, he or
she ended up with green skin, rotting teeth, a crooked nose, giant wart, you
know. The ugly witch stereotype. Kids' punishments were usually more bizarre
and unpredictable. I wasn't a very good witch because I was terrified to brew a
potion. I didn't even study the stuff they wanted me to. I just avoided it. I
didn't want Dumbo ears or giant clown feet.

My mother usually defended my reluctance with magic, but I
think it's because she loved her job at the University and was afraid she'd
have to quit to homeschool me.

"Let's start with a tour of the grounds. It's been a
few years since you guys went to Orientation Camp." We walked down the
meandering path through the pines to the campfire site by the lake. The rock
sculpture of a giant cauldron was smaller than I remembered.

We'd completed twelve hours of online training in the last
two weeks, but apparently Mrs. Laverdiere had more to teach us. After the tour,
we trained in CPR and environmental disaster aversion in the new building with
the great room. We went over the camp policy—to avoid using magic unless
a child's life was in danger. After all, we were training them to selectively
use their magic. Then she briefed us on each of the campers with a high tech
PowerPoint presentation.

After hearing about five of the “very troubled youngsters”
as Mrs. L. called them, I realized we were in trouble.

Sophie covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God,” Sophie
said, peaking at me through her fingers. “We're doomed.”

 
 

Later, as we stood in the parking lot waiting for the kids
to arrive, Sophie continued her tirade. “We're going to end up in the
hospital,” Sophie whined as the school bus pulled up with our campers.

“No kidding. And it's all your fault,” I snapped. “When are
you going to apologize for losing our beach trip and getting us stuck in this
nightmare?”

Sophie crossed her arms. “I'm not taking the blame for what
happens here. I couldn't have known we'd end up here. Besides, if you're mad
about the hot guys, there are hot guys here.”

She wasn't wrong. Scott and one of the Gregs were pretty
cute. And Ian wasn't bad either. The second Greg was rather unfortunate
looking. “Not the point,” I ground out. Not anymore.

The first kids climbed off the bus. The boy with the
elephant trunk growing from his nose glared at the other kids as he walked.

Ian greeted him with a high five. “You're in my cabin, Owen.
Lose the tough act. We have a zero tolerance policy for bullying.”

The kid stiffened.

“You've got to take it easy on the other guys,” Ian
finished.

Owen relaxed, and if I could have seen his mouth under the
trunk, I thought he might have been smiling.

“That one's ours,” Sophie said, pointing to a cute,
redheaded girl in a navy t-shirt. “Thank God. She looks normal.”

We'd gotten lucky. Britney's dragon tail had shrunk down to
about six inches. In the pictures we'd seen, the tail had been six feet long.
Now, she was able to tuck it inside her shorts. Neither of us said it, but
Sophie had to be thinking what I was. From behind, she looked like she had a
big load of poop in her pants. Poor kid.

Our only other camper with an issue, Kelsey, had two
quarter-sized knots on her forehead. A month ago, they'd been massive elk
horns. At one point, the child hadn't been able to walk around without help due
to their weight.

Stephanie, Kelsey, and Leslie hadn't gotten into any recent
trouble. Kelsey had a mischievous past though, and we were supposed to keep a
close eye on her. Stephanie had a permanent scowl, and Leslie hadn't stopped
moving since she arrived.

Our first activity after the welcome lunch and name game was
crafts. Britney didn't stay in her seat as we worked on making lanyards with
the boys from Ian and Scott's cabin. I wasn't sure if it was hyperactivity or
if sitting on the tail just wasn't comfortable.

I stood up and tried to communicate with Sophie. “My butt is
killing me in this hard chair,” I said. Usually, I wouldn't be caught dead
saying that in front of two teenage guys.

Sophie wrinkled her nose but didn't look up from the mess of
plastic lanyard. “Thanks for sharing.”

“I'm sure I'm not the only one,” I said, biting off each
word in hopes that my friend might catch on.

“It's probably because you don't have a real behind. You're
just flat back there.” Sophie handed Kelsey the lanyard she'd untangled.

I huffed, afraid I'd have to give up my attempt to help
Britney. Sophie knew I was sensitive about my flat rear.

“Emma's right,” Ian said from the next table. “These chairs
must be from some torture chamber somewhere.”

Shooting him a grateful look, I said, “I'll go ask Mrs.
Laverdiere if there's something we can do.”

“There are some pillows in the closet by the kitchen,” Ian
said. “Why don't we grab one for all the chairs?”

He led the way to the closet.

“Thanks,” I said. “Sophie wasn't getting my subliminal
messages.”

He opened the door and handed me a stack of bed pillows. “No
problem. I know this will help Britney. I wish Owen's problems were that easy.”

“Poor kid.” I couldn't imagine coping with that elephant's
trunk.

After taking a stack for himself, he pushed the door shut
with his foot. “I'm worried about the horseback riding tomorrow. The horses may
not react well to his extra appendage.”

Walking back toward the craft room, I said, “I wouldn't have
thought of that. I keep wondering if he snores.”

Ian stopped and groaned. “I should have realized. He picked
the bed farthest from the others, and I already confiscated cans of Mello Yello
from his duffle bag. He's afraid to sleep.”

“How loud could it get?” Elephants trumpeted with their
trunks.

Shaking his head, Ian said, “No idea.”

“Do we keep any earplugs here?”

“Mrs. Laverdiere has just about everything. The problem is
that I don't want to single out our cabin that way.”

“Tell them that you snore.”

His grin lit up his face. “You're a genius. I can even fake
some snoring to sell the story.”

We stood there, smiling at each other, and I suddenly
realized how alone we were. Ian had the most beautiful brown eyes, and I wasn't
sure why I'd thought he was just average looking that morning. “Let's get these
pillows on the chairs,” I said, walking as fast as I could toward the others.

“Oh thank goodness,” Sophie said, rubbing her backside as I
handed her half the pillows, to signal that she had finally caught on.

“These are the same ones we use to sleep,” Stephanie
complained.

“I'm not putting my head where somebody's butt has been,”
Leslie said.

“No worries,” Ian assured them. “The ones in the cabins are
brand new.”

“Good,” Stephanie said, sticking hers on her seat and
sitting back down. “I don't want butt cooties.”

The girls giggled until Sophie and I had to laugh too. A
glance at Ian confirmed that he was smiling.

 
 

Later that night, we had the kids put their coats on and we
walked down to the lake. Once the kids were settled on the log benches around
the campfire, Sophie and I sat down on the log behind them. My eyes were
tearing up a little at the intense smoke. Scott came over and sat down next to
Sophie.

“Hey,” he said.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said, not even sparing him a
glance.

Scott leaned forward, looking around her to me. “Hey,” he
said.

I ignored him while Sophie sniggered. She knew he wasn't my
type. Hitting on every girl was never my type.

His arrogance undented, Scott stood up and headed to the
other two female counselors, The Two J's.

I turned back to check on our campers and saw Ian.

“Do you mind?” Ian asked motioning to the empty spot beside
me.

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