Spells & Sleeping Bags #3 (18 page)

Morgan whistles. “Wow.”

Liana brushes the compliment away with the back of her slender hand. “No big deal.”

“That will look totally cool on college applications,” Morgan says.

Deb eyes Liana's muscled legs. “Is that how you stay in such great shape?”

One point Liana. But the game isn't over yet.

The next few days pass by in a blur. Visiting day is on Sunday, so people are preparing for their parents' arrival. I can't believe that summer is half over. I can't believe that summer is half over and Raf and I still haven't kissed.

I can't seem to get any time alone with him. Every time it's just the two of us, someone pops up. Raf and I are sitting on the porch at night; Morgan joins us. We're swimming at GS; Trishelle splashes us. We're sitting together at evening activity; Liana sits next to us.

He would totally kiss me if he had the chance. Right?

Unless he hasn't kissed me because he doesn't like me. No. That can't be! He likes me! He broke up with Melissa because he likes someone else. But what if it's not me? He tried to kiss me (several times, to no avail), so it
has
to be me. What if it was me but now he's changed his mind? What if he's still weirded out about me and Will? No. He still likes me, or else he would have given up by now. I just need time alone with him. Time alone to cement the deal. To cement our lips. Together.

Funny, I can't seem to get any time alone with Miri, either.

I stop by her bunk at supper washup, but she's not there. I can't find her at free play, either. I finally corner her the next day at SI. “What do you mean you're still tired?” I ask her. It's Thursday morning, three days before visiting day. We're sitting on the bench at the top of the beach, waiting for the period to start.

“I need more sleep.”

“What about at free play? We'll use the invisibility umbrella.”

“I'm busy at free play.”

“With what?”

“Stuff.”

“Miri, come on.” I close my eyes and let the sun warm my cheeks.

“No. What about after evening activity, before curfew?” she suggests.

“That's not a good time for me,” I say.

“No, you're too busy with Raf then.”

True. “If I'm not with him, then he can't kiss me.”

“You're choosing Raf over me,” she says.

“You're choosing sleep over me!”

“Anyway, you don't need me to practice your megels.”

“But, Miri, I think I'm ready to—”

“Have you perfected your megels yet?”

“No. . . .”

“Then you don't need me. None of you need me.”

My eyes shoot open and I turn to look at her. “What are you talking about?”

Her face is flushed and it's not from the sun. “Huh?”

“What do you mean nobody needs you?”

“How many letters has Mom written you?”

“Um, I don't know. About two per week.” I lean over, pick up a few grains of sand, and roll them between my fingers.

Miri pales. “Oh.”

“ ‘Oh’ what? How many has she written you?”

“None.”

“What?”

“She hasn't written me once.”

“That's impossible.”

She shrugs. “It's true.”

“They probably got lost.”

“Why would your letters find you but mine get lost?”

Good question. “Hey, are you getting weirdo packages from Jennifer?”

“Yes! What is up with that? This week I got a box of tampons. What's wrong with her?”

“Better than what I got this week—a tube of Preparation H.”

She snickers. “That
is
worse.”

“Mir, you're getting Dad's e-mails, right?”

“Yeah. Dad, who only has time to write us joint e-mails.”

Her not getting any mail from Mom still doesn't make sense to me. “Hey, Mir, maybe Mom has your bunk number wrong, and Stef is sending them to the wrong cabin. Next time you write her, make sure to tell her the right one.”

“Forget it. I'm not writing her if she can't be bothered to write me.”

“Miri, I'm sure that's not it. . . .”

“She's too busy with Lex. You have Raf, and Mom has Lex. Hey, you don't think he's coming for visiting day, do you?”

“I don't know. Probably not.”

“What about Jennifer?”

“Yeah, she's probably coming. Dad wrote that they're driving up with Prissy and then leaving her here.”

“I wonder how he's getting away with that since starter camp begins the day
after
visiting day.”

“He probably paid them a little extra to take Prissy a day early.”

“See? He doesn't care about any of us either.”

“Miri!”

She scoops up a pile of sand with her hand and lets it sift through her fingers. “It's true. All he cares about is Jennifer and having a new baby with her. That's why we're at camp to begin with.”

She's not completely wrong. I mean, that is how going to camp came about, but I don't think that Dad doesn't care about us. He loves us, and so does Mom. They're just busy with their own lives.

“Miri!” I say, smacking my bare knee with my hand. “I just realized that Mom and Dad are both coming to visiting day! Both of them! In the same place! How uncomfy will that be?”

“I don't care,” she says. “It's their mess. Let them worry about it.”

Unfortunately, my psyche doesn't work that way. I almost wish they weren't coming. Now I have to spend the next few days worrying about whether my mom and Jennifer will talk to each other, whether seeing my dad will hurt my mom's feelings, and whether they both realize that the other one's going to be here. . . . I can't help getting annoyed at them. The past month has been parental-issue free.

Rose blows her whistle, interrupting my children-of-divorce daydream. “There should be a name for bad daydreams,” I say to Miri. “For nightmares during the day.”

“Daymares?” Miri suggests, taking off her shorts.

“Everyone in the water!” Rose orders. “Hustle, hustle.”

Oh, right, there's already a name. It's
swimming lessons.

13
HELLO, MUDDAH.
HELLO, FADDAH.

“Ten, nine, eight, theven, thix, five, four, three, two—”

All the girls of fourteen and fifteen are waiting on the porch for two o'clock, ready to pounce. Today is visiting day, and our parents are currently gathering in Upper Field, which has been turned into a temporary parking lot. Campers are not allowed off their porches until Stef says so.

“One!”

She blows her whistle and we all take off. Since our bunk is one of the closest to Upper Field, we'll probably be the first ones there.

We run down the hill, and that's when we see the stampede of parents. There are hundreds of them, all smiling and clutching packages, on a mission to find their kids. I jump back to get out of their path. I think I'll just wait till my parents come this way. No reason to fight the tide.

About ten minutes later, I hear a high-pitched voice: “Am I going to sleep here, Mommy? Here? What about there?”

It's Prissy! A warm rush of emotion washes over me. How about that? I didn't even realize that I missed her until this second. Who'd have thought? What the heck—I run against the crowd to find them. And there they are! Prissy is trying to walk while twirling in her white sundress (which will get filthy in about five seconds; I hope Jennifer packed her some more appropriate camp clothing). Jennifer is wearing a trendy knee-length jean skirt and a silky purple sleeveless top. Her blond hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her eyes are shaded with big sunglasses. My dad looks as badly dressed as always. He's wearing beige shorts that show off his skinny, hairy legs and a striped tucked-in golf shirt. But it's so good to see him!

“Hi!” I scream, trying to throw my arms around all of them. The familiar smell of their lemony fabric softener brings unexpected tears to my eyes.

“Hello, honey!” my dad says, squeezing me tightly.

I reach up to pat his bald spot. “I missed you guys!”

“You look so nice and tanned,” Jennifer says. “And your hair got so long and beautiful!”

I pick Prissy up and spin her around. “Ready for camp?”

“Yup! I packed my flip-flops and my bathing suits and my princess doll and my teddy bear and my—”

An anxious mother pushes her way past us and I nearly trip.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “Trying to find my kids!”

“No worries,” I say, à la Poodles.

“Have you been getting my packages?” Jennifer asks.

“Oh yeah. Um, thanks.”

“My pleasure! Hope you enjoy!”

Alrighty.

My dad peers down the road. “Where's your sister?”

“I'm sure she'll show up in a sec. My bunk is right up there. Why don't we get out of everyone's way?” They follow me up the hill to my cabin.

My dad leans against the railing. “So this is where you live?”

“This is it.” I keep a lookout for my mom and Miri. They'll be coming from different directions, but I should be able to spot them both on the road.

“Can I live here too?” Prissy asks, and then sticks her finger into her nose.

Jennifer knocks her hand away. “Sweetheart, we talked about that, didn't we? Fingers don't go anywhere near your face. Got it?”

“But what if I have food in my teeth?”

“I packed your dental floss. It's in your pink princess cosmetic bag.”

“But I don't like to floss! It hurts my hands.”

Within the next ten minutes, most of the parental traffic has subsided. I finally spot Miri making her way up the road. “Mir! We're over here.”

She scowls. “Why didn't you come to my bunk? I was waiting for you.”

“And hello to you, too,” my dad says. He puts his arms out and waits for Miri to walk up the hill and give him a hug.

“Hi,” Miri says quietly, backing out of my father's hold. “Hi, Jennifer. Hi, Prissy. Is Mom here?”

“Not yet,” I say. What is wrong with her? A little enthusiasm, maybe? And where
is
Mom? It's two-fifteen! All the other parents have been camping out since one-thirty. She gets only three hours with us, and she's wasting them!

Miri shrugs. “She probably forgot.”

“She wouldn't forget,” I snap. Why is she making Mom look bad in front of Dad and Jennifer? I try to give her a “shut up” look, but she's too busy staring at her sneakers to notice.

“I'm sure she'll be here,” Jennifer chirps. “She probably got stuck in traffic. How is she getting here, anyway? She doesn't have a car. Daniel, why didn't you think to offer her a lift?”

Now that would have been interesting.

“Can I see my bunk now?” Prissy asks.

“Not yet, honey. We're waiting for Rachel's mom.”

“Rachel and Miri's mom,” Miri says.

“What, honey?” my dad asks.

My sister crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Miri. Me. Does anyone remember me?”

“Of course, dear. We're here to
see
you.”

“No, you're here to drop Prissy off.”

“What's wrong with you?” Dad asks. “We just got here and you're already picking a fight? We haven't seen you in almost a month.”

“Sorry,” Miri grumbles.

“Why don't we walk to Upper Field?” I say extra brightly, trying to instill some cheerfulness. What is Miri's problem? “Mom might not know where to go.” I lead the way to Upper Field and immediately spot my mother crossing the parking lot. At least, I think it's my mother.

It looks like her. Kind of. But she's slimmer and smiling, and she has short hair the color of Morgan's.

“Is that Mom?” Miri asks incredulously.

“Where?” asks Jennifer. “I don't see her.”

When the redhead—aka Mom—sees us, she starts waving her hand like a crazy woman.

“She looks great,” Dad says. “Who is that with her?”

I was too shocked by Mom's new do to notice Lex at first, but there he is, holding her hand. Do they have to do that in front of my dad?

I look at my dad to see if he's weirded out.

His features look frozen, like he's been Botoxed, and he immediately reaches for Jennifer's hand. Yeah, you could say he's weirded out. True, he's the one who dumped my mom, so it's not like he has a right to be, but I guess it's strange to see your ex with someone new, no matter what.

“It's Lex,” Miri says. “I can't believe she brought him.”

“He
is
her boyfriend,” I say.

“This isn't Take Your Boyfriend to Work Day,” Miri snaps, kicking the ground with the toe of her shoe. “It's Spend Time with Your Kids Day.”

My mom is still waving her free hand. I run up to give her a hug. “Hi!” I squeal. “You look great.”

“Thanks, so do you.”

“A little help from your fairy godmother?” I whisper in her ear.

“A little help from a salon in SoHo. You like?”

“I love. You look ten years younger!” I check out her new svelteness. “Have you been working out?”

“Lex and I have taken up jogging.”

If Lex can get my mom to stay healthy, then he's worthy of being upgraded to hug status. I pull away from my mom and give him a quick squeeze. “Very impressive, Lex. You got her off the couch.”

He tips his cowboy hat. “She outruns me every time.”

“That's because you're a hundred.” Miri mumbles this from a few feet away, but I hear her.

My mother does too. “Miri!”

“What? I'm kidding. Hi, Mom.” Miri gives her a millisecond-long hug and pulls away. “You're late.”

“We got a little lost,” Mom admits.

“She's not that late,” I say quickly. “Do you want to see my bunk?”

“That sounds great,” Lex says. He tips his cowboy hat at my dad. “You must be Daniel.”

My mom's cheeks turn pink. “Lex, meet Daniel. And Jennifer. And Prissy. Everyone, meet Lex, my friend.”

They all shake hands while I die of uncomfortableness.

“I love your hair color,” Jennifer says to my mom.

My mom fluffs her new hair. “Thank you.”

“It's so much fun. Maybe I'll become a redhead too. It's so feisty. What do you think, Daniel?”

I think I want to hide in Lex's car. “Follow me,” I say, leading the pack back to bunk fourteen. What am I going to do with them for the next two and a half hours? I really don't want to hang out and discuss feisty hair colors. I push open the door and wave them all in.

Poodles' bed is covered in packages. Carly is showing her parents, who both look like her, around the bunk. I introduce my parents to her parents.

Liana is nowhere to be found, which suits me just fine. Having my mom and dad both in the same place at the same time is stress enough for one day.

After about five seconds, Miri says, “When are we going to
my
bunk?”

Sigh. “Fine, let's go now,” I say. “There's nothing more to see here, anyway.”

“Um, where's your little girls' room?” my mother asks.

“The bathroom is just past the cubby room,” I answer, motioning with my chin. “But trust me, you don't want to go there.” Even though we cleaned extra hard for visiting day, I don't think parents should be subjected to our graffiti, never mind the doll-sized toilets.

“Trust me, I do. I had four cups of coffee this morning.” She laughs and makes a run for it.

“You guys go on ahead,” I say. “I'll wait for Mom.”

“I'll wait with you,” Lex says, looking uncomfortable.

He probably doesn't want to go with Dad and Jennifer, I think as I watch the others leave. Not that I blame him. Talk about awkward.

“Hello, Rachel,” says Liana in her nasal voice. She's perched on her bed, her legs crossed and ladylike.

Huh? Where did she come from? She's so sneaky. “Hello, Liana,” I say through clenched teeth. “Where's your family?”

“They're traveling for the summer, so I told them not to bother.”

“Oh. Okay. Have a nice day.”

“I'm dying to meet your family.”

You already stalk my quasi boyfriend and my sister, so I'd rather not. “You're too late.”

“Pity.” The next thing I know, she's on her feet, shaking hands with my mother's boyfriend. “Hello, Lex. It's such a pleasure to meet you. I love your shirt.”

Such a pleasure? What a pleasure it would be if she jumped out a window. Why is it a pleasure to meet Lex, anyhow? Why does she care? And what's up with the “I love your shirt”? Is there a bucket I can throw up in?

Come to think of it, how exactly does she know his name? Ah. Miri. Why is Miri feeding Liana background on our family? I make a mental note to ask her later. To interrogate her, actually. What the heck is going on with my sister?

Lex tips his hat. “It's a pleasure to meet you, too. And you are?”

The bathroom door opens and slams. We turn to see my mother, who's readjusting her outfit. “Those stalls are tiny,” she says.

I turn back around, but Liana is gone. How rude.

“Where did she go?” Lex asks.

“Who knows?” Hopefully far, far away.

“Who are you talking about?” my mother asks.

“One of my bunkmates,” I say. “Um, can we please go now?” The last thing I want to do is talk about Liana.

We head to Miri's bunk and meet up with the others. Prissy is hopping from foot to foot, looking bored out of her mind. “Can we go see my bunk now?”

“I want to show them the tennis courts,” Miri says.

“Why don't we stop by Prissy's bunk first, and then we'll go to the courts?” Jennifer says.

So we all head to bunk one, Prissy's bunk. My mom and Lex decide to wait on the porch, but the rest of us go inside.

“Look, honey, here you are!” Jennifer says, pointing to a photograph on the bed near the window. “That's the picture we sent in last month, remember? And look, they wrote your name inside a big red heart. Later, Daniel will get your bags from the car, and we'll get you all settled. How does that sound?”

At first Prissy looks excited, but then she says, “Am I the only girl in the bunk?”

“No, the other five girls are coming tomorrow,” says a tall brunette. “I'm Tilly, your counselor.”

“Oh, hello!” Jennifer says excitedly. “So nice to meet you. Prissy, say hello to Tilly.”

Prissy suddenly gets shy and buries her face in her mother's legs. Then she pulls away, looks around the bunk, and announces, “I want to go home.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart? You've been counting down the days until camp.”

Prissy stamps her leather sandal on the ground. “I want my bed.”

“This is your bed for two whole weeks,” Jennifer says.

“I don't like this bed. It smells like pee.”

“You'll like it, I promise. Rachel, won't she like it?”

“Yes, Prissy, you will,” I say, sitting down on one of the bare mattresses. “You're going to have so much fun!”

She considers this for a moment, then asks, “Why will I have fun?”

I'm too tired for this. “Because . . . because you can go sailing.”

“I don't want to go sailing.”

“She probably can't go sailing,” Miri says. “You can only go sailing if you have your dolphin.”

Prissy's face crumples. “But I want to go sailing!”

I shoot Miri a dirty look. “Prissy, you can go swimming.”

“I don't know how to swim.”

“You'll learn,” says my dad.

“I don't want to learn.” She starts crying and then sobbing, but then she notices my lanyard bracelets, stops abruptly, and points. “Did you get those here?”