Just Like Me (14 page)

The next morning, I woke up still wearing my shorts and T-shirt from the day before. My shirt smelled like campfire smoke, and it had sticky spots from all the marshmallow drips I'd spilled on it while we devoured s'mores and sang every song Donnie had taught us that week.

“I can't believe it's the last day,” Avery said.

“Me either,” Vanessa agreed.

“I can't believe we're all still alive,” Becca said.

We all laughed.

“Technically, it
is
kind of surprising that we didn't all kill each other,” Avery said.

“Hey, there's still a little time,” Gina said.

“I heard that,” Tori called from her counselor room.

We all laughed again.

“You girls better get moving,” Tori said, coming out of her room and heading into the bathroom. “You've got to pack up and be ready for the buses by ten.”

We all groaned but slowly started emerging from our sleeping bags.

Instead of making our beds, we peeled the sheets off our mattresses, rolled up our sleeping bags, gathered up clothes hanging from the wooden bunk bed rails, and collected the toiletries from our cubbies.

“I can't believe we all have to say good-bye to each other today,” Avery said. “Bummer.”

“But now we're camp sisters,” Gina said. She started dancing and singing “We Are Family,” trying to lighten the mood a little, but then she flopped back down on her bunk, unable to keep her upbeat mood going.

“I'm really going to miss you guys,” she said.

She almost sounded like she might cry.

Then Vanessa surprised all of us by saying, “Gina, you should come over to my house sometime when Meredith spends the night.”

“And next summer,” I said, sitting next to Gina on her bed. “Same time, same place. Right?”

“Maybe next year we could actually
win
the camp competition,” Meredith said.

“That would be
killer
!
” Becca yelled, bouncing her soccer ball hard against the concrete floor.

I looked around the cabin for anything I'd missed that was mine. The clothesline outside the cabin was full of empty clothespins, and our still damp clothes, swimsuits, and towels were shoved into plastic bags and crammed into suitcases that didn't close as well as when we'd packed them at home.

“Hey, what are we going to do with these?” Meredith asked, holding up the two long-handled spoons we'd made for our Egg Emergency practice.

“Let's take them apart and use the chopsticks at breakfast this morning,” I said.

Avery and Becca looked at me.

“
You
want to eat with
chopsticks
?” Becca exclaimed.

“Maybe,” I answered, smiling.

I grabbed my Chinese fan, the one Avery had saved for me. She had given it to me at the bonfire the night before. I waved it in my face. Then I waved it in Becca's face while Gina started taking apart the chopsticks.

I climbed back onto my bunk bed to make sure I hadn't left anything up there. I found a sock wedged between the mattress and the bed frame, probably left over from our paper and sock war the day before. And when I lifted the mattress to pull it out, I saw something else. Something blue. A piece of yarn. The lost piece of yarn from the zipper on my Bible case. The lost piece of yarn from my baby blanket.

Even though I knew everyone would be happy that I'd found the yarn, for some reason I wanted to keep it a secret. It had brought us altogether, so even though it was just a piece of yarn, it was kind of special in a weird way. So I shoved it in my pocket and jumped down from my bunk without saying a word.

As I slid the sock into the side pocket of my suitcase next to other dirty clothes, I felt the half-finished friendship bracelet—the one I had brought along for my friend Madison. I hadn't worked on it since the bus ride to camp, but finding it gave me an idea.

“Hey, do you guys think we have time to go down to the arts-and-crafts room before the buses leave?” I asked.

I stood in the middle of the cabin, waiting for an answer as I fanned myself with my Chinese fan.

“We should have enough time,” Avery said, looking at her watch.

“Then let's go,” I said.

Dear Ms. Marcia,

It turns out I do believe the proverb about the red thread.

When we said good-bye to each other, Becca, Avery, Gina, Vanessa, Meredith, and I pinkie promised we'd never take off the friendship bracelets we had made in the arts-and-crafts room on that last morning of camp. But I know none of us will keep that promise. I bet after a week or two at home, the bracelets that seem so important now will end up in the bottom of our closets or in the back of our desk junk drawer.

Even so, the twisted and braided red-and-white gimp means more than just friendship to me. It reminds me of a connection that runs deeper than all the red threads in China.

So, even if the bracelet doesn't stay on my wrist but instead ends up in the pocket of an old purse or the bottom of a backpack, I know that what the red thread reminds me of can never be lost or broken.

I went to camp with my Chinese sisters, but I left with much more than that. I left with friendships that are worth a lot because we had to fight for them. Literally.

And I left with the truth. The truth about me. The truth about my life story. And as it turns out, there's a lot of peace in the truth once you learn how to accept it.

And once you accept it, that peace becomes part of you.

Love,

Julia

One in a Million

Just Like Me
was inspired by my own experience as an adoptive mom.

My husband and I adopted our daughter from the Hunan Province in China when she was ten months old. Though
Just Like Me
is a work of fiction, I hope that Julia's experience of discovering how special she is and how important close friends can be rings true for readers no matter what their backgrounds might be.

Julia's story is about appreciating our individuality, no matter what our ethnic roots are. Doing this allows us to treat ourselves and others with the kindness, patience, and respect we all deserve.

I'll start by thanking my fabulous editor, Aubrey Poole, because her creative vision, her cheerful patience, and her amazing insight propel my books to become something I never thought they could be. I don't think there's a way for an author to love and appreciate her editor as much as I love and appreciate Aubrey.

Next I want to thank Holly Root, my agent, for keeping my career on track and always offering the kind of steady, constant strength and encouragement that authors need to keep believing in themselves. None of my books would have ever happened without her.

A huge thank-you to the whole Sourcebooks team. First, you make my books look like candy on the shelf so that readers can't help but grab them and read them. Then you take my books
everywhere
and tell
everyone
all about them with your irresistible enthusiasm. I am so grateful for all you do and for the way you love my books as much as I love them.

And thank you, Dominique Raccah, because I absolutely
love
being a Sourcebooks author!

A special thanks to my daughter, Chaylee, and her four Chinese sisters—Eliza, Aliana, Grace, and Mia—and yes, all five of these girls are from the same orphanage in China. Thank you, girls, for bringing so much love and laughter to our lives and for inspiring this story about the special connections all of us have with the people in our lives.

Thank you to Madeleine Kuderick for sitting with me at Panera and talking “shop” for hours, while the Panera workers vacuumed around us, trying to get us to leave. Your writing friendship and “friend” friendship kept me going when I wasn't sure I could fill the blank pages with words.

And to Ron, who always believes I can do it, even when I'm not sure that I can. Thank you for your love and patience, and most of all for being the one who's always there.

Finally, I am thankful for God's blessings. He gives me more than I can ask or imagine. I am truly blessed!

Nancy J. Cavanaugh is the award-winning author of
This Journal Belongs to Ratchet
and
Always, Abigail
. She has been an elementary and middle school teacher, as well as a school library media specialist. She and her husband and daughter enjoy winters in sunny Florida and eat pizza in Chicago the rest of the year.

Visit
www.nancyjcavanaugh.com
.

Thank you for reading
!

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