Holly's Heart Collection Two (48 page)
When it came time to clean up tables and get ready for the orientation, I caught Todd looking at me. He was sitting between Jared and Danny, and I wondered if they’d filled him in on what a sweet person I was. Seriously, I wondered what rotten things they’d said about me. I tried to avoid his gaze.
Ignoring Todd worked well enough until Mr. Boyce asked everyone to pair up and introduce themselves. I spotted a redheaded girl with braces two tables away and hightailed it over there. My sisters hurried to make contact with several new girls from Buena Vista, as well. We were meticulous in following the rules of our pact. I was doing well, that is, until Todd intercepted me.
“Hey, again,” he said.
“Oh, uh…hey.” I had no idea what to say next.
“How’s your first day at camp?”
“Okay.”
“You doing anything special for Talent Night?” he asked.
Everyone loved the big finale—the last fabulous night at camp.
But I hadn’t even begun to think about what I’d be doing.
“Well…I sing,” I mentioned feebly.
“Great,” he said. “I play guitar. Will you sing a duet with me?”
A duet? With Todd? I swallowed hard.
“Oh, that’s very nice of you,” I managed to say, “but—”
Andie was waving at me. Frowning too.
“Excuse me a second,” I said to Todd and rushed over to see what Andie wanted.
She was caught up in animated conversation with one of the girls. Turning to me, she said, “Holly, you remember Alissa Morgan, don’t you? You took her spot during the spring choir tour in seventh grade?”
Of course I remembered. If it hadn’t been for Alissa leaving Dressel Hills, I might never have become good friends with Danny Myers.
Andie kept talking. “Well, this is Alissa’s cousin, Emily. She likes to write stories, too.”
“Hi, Emily,” I said, wondering what to do about Todd, who was still standing off to the side, probably waiting for my return.
“I read one of your stories,” Emily said. “In that magazine
Sealed With a Kiss.
”
“You’re kidding. Really?”
Emily nodded. “Your story, wasn’t it called something like ‘Double Love’ or…” She paused. “I don’t remember the exact title, but it was great.”
“Thanks,” I said, deciding not to correct her. The actual title had been “Love Times Two.”
I noticed the pin on the collar of Emily’s camp shirt. It was a simple gold pen, and seeing it and meeting her made me miss writing in my journal more than ever.
Mr. Boyce asked us to take our seats, ending the ten-minute encounter. The entire staff, including camp nurse, maintenance, and cooks, had assembled and were ready to be introduced for mally.
My mind, however, was on Todd, the all-time cutest cowboy who wanted
me
to sing a duet with him.
I sighed. Was I breaking the pact rules to sneak a glance or two at him?
Back in our cabin, it was nearly time for lights-out.
But I couldn’t help myself; I opened my suitcase and located the spiral notebook containing the SOS pact rules. I wasn’t referring to the rules or anything; I just needed a blank page. I had to write!
Way in the back of the notebook, where no one would ever see, I began my secret camp journal.
Thursday night, June 23: I can’t believe how exhausted I am. We walk everywhere—to chapel, to classes, to the dining hall. Saturday, a big hike is planned. I’m worn out just thinking about it. And I’m peeling like crazy. But, oh well, getting sunburned was worth getting Amy-Liz to camp. I really think she’s having a marvelous time.
This guy, no, this wonderful person, Todd Stillson, asked me to sing a duet with him for Talent Night. I’m torn apart—ripped, really. If I snub Todd, he’ll think I’m rude. But how can I compromise the Sisters of Silence? (That’s our secret society.)
I must be true to the pact—it’s a no-guys pact, a list of things we absolutely refuse to do this week. Besides, the guys have it coming…our Dressel Hills guys, that is.
The first day of camp has been a nightmare!
There was so much whispering going on, nobody paid attention to my journal and me. Thank goodness. When I closed the spiral notebook, I slipped it safely into my suitcase and closed the lid.
There were three rounds of pillow fights before Rhonna signaled lights-out. That’s when the giggling started. And the secrets…
It was a good thing the cabin was dark. And Rhonna was too tired to care. Or at least she was pretending to be asleep. Her parents’ divorce must have been heavy on her mind.
Eventually all of us got tired and fell asleep, dreaming of boys and pacts and camp.
NO GUYS PACT
Rhonna’s alarm clock went off, shattering my early morning dreams.
Friday. Second day at camp.
I groaned and rolled over.
Let Rhonna do her predawn jogging thing,
I thought as I fell back to sleep.
Soon the rise-and-shine bell rang. I sat up—half of me still in my sleeping bag—and reached for my suitcase. Inside, I discovered some stationery and three self-addressed stamped envelopes.
Thanks to Mom.
She knew me well.
I wrote her a quick letter, assuming that Uncle Jack would read it, too. I described our cool counselor, Rhonna Chen, and all the fun we were having. I left out the SOS and the no-guys pact, of course.
I could almost see Mom sipping iced peppermint tea on the front-porch swing of our home as she read my letter to Uncle Jack. When I licked the envelope, I sensed a twinge of homesickness. Only a twinge.
It was Joy who had a serious case, I discovered on our way to the showers. As we headed down the dirt path and over the log bridge, she confided her feelings to me. Not only was she homesick, she was worried about what the camp chef had cooked up for breakfast.
“Let’s see if we can’t get you some vegetarian meals,” I suggested. “I’m sure a few other kids here are in the same boat.”
Joy slipped her gym bag over her shoulder. “That’s sweet of you, Holly. Thanks.”
I stuck close to Joy when we went swimming later that after-noon. Homesickness is untreatable and can easily turn into a debilitating disease. The rest of the Silent Sisters were ultraconsiderate of her, too.
We weren’t being very nice to the guys, though. In fact, the pact and all its implications were beginning to take shape. Not only were we living up to our rule of no extended conversation, we weren’t even returning
heys
.
Bye
s were out, too. So was everything else verbal.
We acted as though the guys weren’t even sharing the same pool with us, steering clear of them so effectively that none of us noticed what was going on outside the pool. Outside…on the grassy area where we’d laid out our beach towels and sports bags.
Andie and I were getting out of the pool when Paula and Kayla let out matching shrieks. I turned to see what the noise was all about.
“Look! Our sports bags are gone,” Paula wailed.
“With all our makeup!” Kayla cried.
“What?” I said. Andie and I dashed over to check on our belongings.
Shauna was already shouting, “Mine’s gone, too!”
Sure enough, not a single one of us had our bags. Or our clothes.
Amy-Liz put her hands on her tiny hips. “You don’t suppose.
“Yes, I do!” I declared. “I think the guys know something about this.”
Kayla looked like she was going to cry. “We
have
to get our stuff back.”
“Wait, girls!” Andie called out. We stopped chattering and looked at her. “We’re not going to let the boys get to us, right?”
We nodded.
“We’re committed to ignoring them, right?”
We nodded again.
“It’s really no big deal missing a few things,
right?
” She stared at each of us in turn. And like loyal sisters, we nodded again.
“And,” she concluded, “we’ve got plenty of clothes back at the cabin. Right?”
“Right!” we cheered.
I could see what Andie was getting at. No makeup, who cared? If we acted like it didn’t matter—which it didn’t—we were actually defeating the guys’ attempt to aggravate us. Perfect!
“Hey, you know something?” Amy-Liz said. “We don’t have to mess with primping. And it’s not because our makeup’s gone.”
I knew what she was getting at. “Because we don’t wanna attract guys anyway, right?”
“Bingo,” Andie said.
I couldn’t help thinking that Jared, Billy, and Stan usually had more smarts than to risk being sent home for ripping off our sports bags. But then again, they were behaving like males, so maybe their smarts had gone ker-ploo-ey!
Kayla still looked frantic. “We can’t wait too long to locate our things,” she said. “I simply must have my makeup by supper.”
“You’ll be fine without it,” I reassured her. “Just look at the rest of us.”
Paula wasn’t taking this business of zero makeup nearly as hard as Kayla. Not long ago, though, she would’ve been freaking out right along with her twin. Thanks to an afternoon at my house, Paula had seen the light. She’d abandoned her mascara-laden eyelashes. The heavy blush, too.
When it came right down to it, Paula’s more natural look enhanced her true beauty. It did something else, too. Her fresh, clean look set her apart from Kayla. It gave her a new identity—her very own. Except now—at the moment—the two of them looked exactly alike.
“Couldn’t I at least borrow from another girl somewhere?” Kayla asked sheepishly. This was a major concession from a girl who wore only designer clothes and used the most expensive makeup on the market.
“Listen, if it comes down to the wire, Kayla, you’re welcome to beg makeup from the girls in Cabin A,” Andie offered. “But”—and here she let her mischievous side surface—“if you do, you’re out of the SOS.”
Kayla’s face drooped.
“Andie’s kidding,” I said, grinning. “But really, if none of us wears makeup, no one will stick out.” I was hoping to soften the blow for Kayla.
“Besides, you don’t wanna attract guys this week anyway, remember?” Andie teased.
Paula patted her twin’s shoulder. “If you did, you’d just have to ignore them.”
We laughed at that, heading to our cabin, wrapped in beach towels—feeling smug about not letting the loss of some petty things like makeup and a change of clothes spoil our afternoon.
SOS rules!
That evening we had a cookout featuring barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, baked beans, and watermelon for dessert.
In line, Jared took one look at us and burst out laughing. “What’s this…the natural look?”
“Right,” Stan said. “So natural, you don’t wanna look!”
The guys howled with laughter. Except Todd. He sat there in the middle of it all, surrounded by a pack of ignorant Dressel Hills males, behaving like a perfectly wonderful gentleman. Man, what our guys could learn from a Buena Vista cowboy!
None of us were moved in any way by the ridicule. We were as cool as cucumbers.