Girl on the Run (21 page)

I glared back at him, but stayed in the doorway. Kirk stood beside me, trying to figure out what had happened.

Duff was the first to react to the light, and then Liam and Spencer sat up, scratching their heads.

They had definitely been asleep.

“Oh man!” Spencer complained. “Turn it off!”

Ben finally got their attention. When they took in my appearance there was several minutes of non-stop howling. Duff made the international sign for stinky.

“Is that smell you?” Liam asked, pinching his nose for effect.

“Recognize it?” I spat out bitterly.

“Death?” Spencer asked, starting a whole new round of laughter.

“Krystal Lake eel crap,” I said.

“Don't look at me,” Spencer smiled. “I haven't been in the water all summer.”

That was true, but there was one among them who could dive down deep enough to scoop up some slime.

“Scotty,” Kirk said, stepping around me. The lump in the bunk above Spencer stayed still. A flick of the blanket showed only pillows.

“Not Scotty,” I whispered.

“Where did this happen?” Kirk asked me.

“On the trail,” Ben answered. “Less than halfway up.”

“He would have been in a tree,” I said, now worried about Scotty.

“On the trail?” Spencer said.

“In the dark?” Liam added.

Duff signed.

“No,” I said. “We were not saying good morning!”

Ben looked confused.

“Give me your flashlight,” Kirk said to Ben. “Stay here, in case he comes back. Tell him we'll deal with it in the morning.” He ran out the door, without saying a word or even looking at me.

“Kirk,” I called out. “Wait up. I'll help you look.”

“No.” He stopped and faced me. “Go to the showers, you stink.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you want me to say, Jesse?” He stared back. “If you want Ben, or whatever, then go for it. Just don't string me along.”

“String
you
along!” I walked up to him, getting as close as the eel goo would allow. “You're the one who was so busy with Lacey after the game you couldn't be bothered helping me.”

“Is that why you're with Ben? Because I didn't carry you back?”

“No! This is about you…” I let the sentence fall away. I had no answer. Holy crap, what the hell was this about? “No,” I shook my head. “It's only another one of my messes.” I felt close to tears. “Haven't you learned yet? I screw everything up.”

Anger and pity flashed across his face a few times. He wasn't sure what to do about me, standing in front of him dripping with shit. He reached into his back pocket. “I was getting this ready to give to you.” He took out a small cloth bag and held it out to me.

I began to pull on the draw string when a small cough made us turn around. “Scotty!” I said.

He stood there with his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet.

“Is this your work?” Kirk asked him, pointing at my goo clad self.

“Yes,” he fessed up easily.

“Did they dare you?” I asked. “Did Spencer put you up to this?”

“No,” he said. “They didn't even know about it.”

Kirk took him by the shoulder. “Back to your cabin,” he ordered.

I was so confused. Just a few hours ago he had been bringing me water with lime slices. I ran to catch up with them. “Wait,” I said. Both brothers stopped and looked at me. “Scotty, why did you do this?”

“I wasn't aiming for you,” he said.

For the second time that night I was in a hot shower. Except now, the suitors were no longer lined up. In fact, they had pretty much disappeared. How did it go so bad so quickly? I guess taking the walk with Ben was the first domino. Shampooing my hair for the third time, I still felt the goo.

But how did Scotty know I wouldn't be out with Kirk? Was he prepared to slime even his brother? Maybe it
was
set up by both brothers.

Kirk had been swimming with the mask so much. Maybe collecting eel crap? He was only pretending at the football game, flirting like the jerk he is, trying to throw me off. I was the victim of the brothers' sting operation.

No, that was stupid.

For the first time, I found myself agreeing with Lacey. Boys were hard…on the head.

I went to the laundry room and threw my soccer shirt in for the hot, hot, hot cycle and ended up throwing out my windbreaker and favourite jeans. They were so thick with gross slime, I didn't even want to touch them. Besides, I was ready to trash anything associated with today.

Back in my shed, I got into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. Something hit the floor. It was the cloth bag Kirk had given me. When I grabbed my stuff for the shower, I threw it on the bed. To be honest, I'd forgotten about it. I didn't have a good track record with surprises. What would be an appropriate gift from the Brothers Grimm? A spider's nest? A poisonous, spore emitting mushroom? Curiosity trumped my fear and I slipped my hand inside the bag. My fingers touched the familiar edges and my heart started to race.

Impossible.

I pulled it out of the bag and stared at it, lying in my palm.

Dear Diary,

He wasn't looking for eel goo after all. The first time I noticed Kirk diving was after Liam faked his own drowning; after I'd lost my necklace. I was convinced it would rot on the bottom of the lake forever. But like everything else, I was wrong. I am so stupid…

I
stared at the clock all night. By five thirty I gave up. I stood in front of the little mirror taped to the wall and put on my necklace. It was bent a bit and didn't wrap around my neck the same way. The silver charm lay awkwardly and no longer dangled above Kirk's kissing place. I pictured a fish gnawing on it a few times before giving up and swimming away. The image gave me goosebumps.

I took it off and went to the window. The sky was beginning to lighten. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, laced up my runners, and went outside. I needed advice, and at this hour of the morning, I knew where to find it.

The kitchen light was on. I knocked lightly on the wooden door frame. Lewis came over and stood behind the screen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Two flowered aprons were hanging on a hook on the far wall; the Brasseau sisters were still asleep, thankfully.

“A bit early for midnight strollers, isn't it?” he asked. I was surprised by the edge in his voice.

Still, he stepped aside. Gingerly, I walked into the kitchen. The smell of yeast filled the room. “I need advice,” I told him.

“No kidding.” He turned his back to me and continued working with the dough. Crap, even Lewis was mad at me.

I sat one of the stools across from him, but he remained focused his work, waiting for me to start. I looked down at my runners for inspiration. “I wasn't made for flirting or playing guys off against each other,” I admitted. “In fact, I got sick of it after a few hours. I know you're good friends with Kirk and that you're on his side. But so am I.”

“Really?”

“Please, you know how clueless I can be.” I stopped and took a deep breath.

He rolled out a perfect rectangle of dough. “Ben-Hur seems to have his eyes on you.”

I squirmed on the stool, he wasn't making this easy. “Ben and I are, um…”

“You mean Dill Pickle?” he interrupted.

“It's not what you think,” I said. I tried to explain about the popcorn seasoning.

“So, you didn't
relish
kissing Dill Pickle?”

I smiled at his comment. At least his tone was lighter. “Smart ass,” I said. I told him about my messy evening, ending with the discovery of the necklace. The whole time Lewis stayed quiet, but it wasn't like his usual attentiveness. He seemed more interested in spreading the butter perfectly over the dough.

I had to prompt him with a question. “He hates me, doesn't he?” I asked.

Lewis stopped working and turned to me. “Kirk found your necklace right before the football game. I still can't believe he found it at all. The thing he brought to me was all bent, and covered with algae.” He shot me a look. “We worked on it for hours.”

Seeing Lewis pissed was unnerving. My face grew hot. “I…I didn't know,” I mumbled.

He glared back at me. “You owe me a new toothbrush, by the way.”

My pulse started to throb in my temples. I hadn't slept since the night before last. Where did he get off being so mad with me? It's not like I actually did anything to screw up his life. “Geez,” I finally said, “would you quit with the attitude?”

Lewis snorted. “You complain about how horrible your cabin is to you, and then when you get a chance to leave them, you throw a fit. What the hell do you want, anyway? A perfect life? Everything to go your way, all the time? Christ, Jesse, you have no idea how lucky you are.”

My mouth hung open. “Excuse me?”

“I got beat up by my first kiss, remember? And the whole town knew…and I mean
everyone
.” He said it slowly, like a deep growl. He leaned closer, and I was sure he could see my bottom lip quivering. “I had to go to school with a cast on my face. But you don't see me dragging my ass all over camp, complaining about ‘feeling left out.' Life sucks, all right, but you suck it up and move on.”

He gave his head a slight shake, then stepped back and stood against the counter. He dropped his gaze to the floor.

My heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode. He had no idea. “Move on?” I spat. He looked up abruptly. “Is that what you call hiding in the kitchen with the Brasseau sisters? If you have all the answers, why are you still afraid to get out there?” I pointed to window. “You're not moving on, you're stuck. You mean to tell me that in this whole camp you're the only gay guy?”

He opened his mouth but I kept talking, I wasn't finished. “What happened to you was horrible, I get that, but you have
both
parents to talk to—you're not living a lie anymore. You have no idea how lucky
you
are. You can email your parents and tell them how shitty you feel, or how lonely it is here…and they'll understand.”

I didn't bother waiting for his answer; I was on a roll. “Do you know who I get to talk to? No one! My emails are all lies. I tell them I make everyone laugh. I brag that my cabin has won two awards already. I do that so they won't worry.” My voice broke at the end. I swallowed a few times, feeling my eyes fill up. “So,” I sniffed. “If it looks like I'm dragging my ass it's because I'm so exhausted from being the perfect daughter back home. I'm. Just. So. Exhausted. And I thought as my friend, you'd understand.”

Lewis blinked hard a few times. His shoulders slumped and his wiped his hands together, sending bits of dough to the floor. “No one has it easy, Jesse,” he said, sounding as tired as I felt. “Everyone's trying to survive growing up, you know.”

I stared back, waiting for him to say more, or at least to apologize for being such as ass. But he stayed quiet. I felt the rage build. “Everyone except me, right?” I asked. “Because I'm such a whiner I'm not even trying.” I scraped back the stool, and stood up. “I'm sorry you had to spend time with a loser like me.”

Lewis made an exaggerated sigh. “That's not what I mean, and you know it.” He brushed his hair away from his face with his forearm. His voice became softer. “Why are you so determined to let go of everything that makes you happy? First you quit running, then you turned your back and Kirk. And now you're pushing me away.”

I brushed past him, but he stopped me at the door. His eyes searched my face, trying to figure out why I was so defensive. There
was
a reason. I'd known the truth for months, but saying it out loud made it for certain.

“It's because I don't deserve to be happy,” I finally admitted. “You proved your point. I'm better off on my own, that way I can't bring anyone down to my level.” I moved his arm out of the way and ran out the door, not even looking back.

I strode across the grass leaving angry streaks in the dew. I hated Lewis. I hated Kirk. I hated the triathlon cup. I hated the eels. I hated Ben, Lacey, Spencer, and everything else about this stupid Kamp Krystal Lake.

Most of all I hated me.

My eyes focused on Cabin 4A, picturing the four terrors sleeping comfortably, happy to have finally gotten rid of me. I put my head down and ran across a patch of messed up grass, leading to the dock. My feet picked up the pace and I started to sprint—full out.

I didn't care what might happen. All I wanted was get as far away as I could and never look back. I passed my little shed and went into the woods. It got darker as I ran under the canopy of trees. A stitch started in my side, but I ignored it, digging in my feet harder with each stride up the hill. I gritted my teeth, keeping my eyes on the twists ahead. My ankle rolled on a loose rock and I faltered a bit.

“Feet and lungs, Jesse,” Dad's voice called out.

My sneakers skidded in the dirt and I froze on the spot. It was completely silent. Then I heard a slight knocking. Overhead I saw a woodpecker. My breath caught in my throat.

Oh no.

A voice inside my head warned me.

Get back to the lake before it's too late.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Let's do that.”

I headed down the spongy dirt trail on legs that felt like cooked spaghetti. I had to hurry, the spots were already in front of my eyes. Coming around the last corner, I stopped and stared at Dad's body lying on the trail, his pale face covered in mud. The woodpecker's knock echoed again.

Get back to the lake before it's too late.

I closed my eyes and tiptoed around his corpse. When I was safely past, I scrambled along the footpath. I was almost to the opening of the green lawn, things should have been getting brighter, but the darkness was coming in quickly from my periphery. Why is the ground rising so fast? I thought.

But it wasn't coming up, I was falling down.

Then everything went black.