Wish You Weren't Page 2

  “Anyway,” Alex was saying, “I’m definitely signing up.”

  “Me too!” said Brynn quickly. “I think that’s a great idea. And I have all kinds of experience with set decoration and lighting for the stage, so I bet I could really help out with those things.”

  “Me too!” squealed Valerie. “I mean, I just want to help plan the dance. Maybe make it a little more elegant than last year?”

  Everyone chuckled. It would be hard to get less elegant than last year’s disaster.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Grace agreed. “I’ll sign up. Maybe Devon will want to go.”

  Sarah remained silent. She felt her friends all looking back at her, but she didn’t say anything. The truth was, she’d rather poke herself in the eye with a sharp stick than spend all that time thinking about a stupid dance. She wanted to get to spend time with her bunkmates, but not that way. She’d go crazy listening to them go on and on about boys and who was cuter and who might ask who out . . .

  “What do you think, Sars?” Alex asked hopefully. “All four of us on social committee? We’d plan a dance that would keep them talking for years!”

  Without looking up from the ground, Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” asked Brynn. “I’m telling you, it’s going to be great this year. And like I said, maybe there’s a great sporty guy out there for you—”

  “I said no, all right? I really don’t care about the stupid social.” Sarah’s friends all stopped short in surprise. Sarah felt her eyes start to burn with tears. I will not start to cry. I will not start to cry. I will not start to cry. She’d spent the last two weeks feeling out of place, separated from her best friends, and freaked out that Abby had somehow brought all the stress of Winthrop Middle School to Camp Lakeview. Any day now, Abby might tell her bunkmates how different she acted back home—all quiet, a teacher’s pet. Not at all jokey or competitive, like she was here. For the most part, Sarah was happy being sort of bookish at home—but camp was her chance to be anyone she wanted to be, away from the watchful eyes of her classmates. When she’d first tried sports, she’d been shocked to discover just how good an athlete she was. Even more surprising was how much fun she had doing it. But now I’m stuck in sports alone with Abby, she thought miserably. I won’t get to hang out with my best friends—they’ll all be too busy planning the stupid social. Why did I have to be put in bunk 4C?

  She forced her way through her friends without looking any of them in the eye and plodded forward to the mess hall.

  “Hey, Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!”

  Sarah blinked and looked right toward the sound of her name. Her friend Jenna, formerly of 3C and now of 4A, was standing on the mess-hall lawn surrounded by a few 4A-ers. She started waving crazily as soon as Sarah looked up, her messy brunette braid flailing as she moved her head to follow Sarah’s approach.

  “What did you get?” Jenna demanded before Sarah even got all the way up to her.

  Sarah sighed. “Sports and arts and crafts.”

  Jenna’s whole face lit up. “Awesome! I’m in sports, too. We’re going to kick some boy butt!”

  Standing close by, Natalie and Tori laughed. Sarah glanced over and saw that Alyssa and Chelsea were also there.

  “I got arts and crafts,” Alyssa added. “You and I will definitely have fun in that. I hear we’re working with chalk pastels this session.”

  “Great,” Sarah said sarcastically. “The only pastel I can pull off is if I draw a big mud puddle. That’s what all of my drawings turn into eventually.”

  Alyssa laughed. “Oh, you just need to work on your technique a little,” she said with a wink. “I’ll help you out. And if I ever end up in sports again, heaven forbid, you can teach me how to land a slam dunk.”

  Sarah smiled. “Deal!”

  Right then Justin, one of the boys’ counselors, opened the doors to the mess hall and all of the campers started stampeding in. Sarah drifted into the hall with the 4A girls, then split off and went to find the table for 4C. Sarah spotted Brynn and Valerie on the other side of the hall talking to a couple of boys, but Alex was sitting alone at their table, looking around anxiously. As Sarah approached, her face flooded with relief.

  “Sars,” she said as Sarah grabbed the chair next to her. “I didn’t mean to make you mad with the social-committee stuff. And if you don’t want to be on it, you totally don’t have to. You know that, right?”

  Sarah nodded and fiddled with her silverware. “I know.”

  Alex sighed. “I just . . . you seem upset.”

  Sarah sighed. She felt her insides turn to mush, the way they always did when she was upset and someone was this nice to her. She knew she’d been mean to snap at Alex. She didn’t know how to explain that she was worried about drifting apart from her, Brynn, Val, and Grace, and all this other stuff. Alex seemed so confident all the time—Sarah couldn’t imagine her understanding.

  “Is it because you’re in sports alone?” Alex asked suddenly, looking confused. “I mean, Abby will be in there with you. She seems pretty cool.”

  Sarah sighed. There’s no way Abby and I will ever be friends, but Alex would never understand that. “Yeah,” she said finally, almost whispering. “I know it’s lame. I was worried about being lonely, but yeah, Abby will be there, I guess. It turns out Jenna’s in there, too.”

  Abby, Gaby, and the rest of 4C came over to the table and grabbed seats. Sarah watched them, not wanting to look at Alex and see if she understood. But she felt Alex reach over and pat her shoulder. “You’ll kick serious butt without us, Sars,” Alex said confidently. “You always do.”

  Across the table, Gaby grabbed her silverware and looked across the room. “What’s for dinner tonight?” she asked. “I’m starved.”

  “That’s ’cause you barely ate anything at lunch,” Alex pointed out.

  Gaby shrugged, still craning her neck to see any sign of the CITs with their dinner. “Mac and cheese is bad for you. It’s all carbs and fat.”

  “And protein,” Abby interjected, unfolding her napkin. “And calcium? Honestly, Gaby, you’re lucky you don’t play sports. You’d run out of energy in about half a minute with the stuff you eat.”

  Gaby rolled her eyes. Sarah knew that if anyone else had made that comment, Gaby would have made some nasty retort. But since it was Abby, she’d let it slide.

  “Whatever,” Gaby muttered, smiling warily. “The point is, I’m hungry.”

  A few seconds later the CITs began serving the meal, and Sophie came over with a huge tray of meat loaf. “Gross,” Gaby whispered as Sophie set it down in the middle of the table. “It looks . . . gray.”

  “Maybe it came from an old cow,” Sarah quipped without thinking. Alex started laughing, and soon most of the table joined in. Even Gaby smiled ruefully as she took a piece of meat loaf and passed the tray around. The only person not laughing was the person who never laughed at Sarah’s jokes . . . Abby. She just sat there, stone-faced. It was like Sarah’s voice came out on some uncool frequency that Abby couldn’t hear.

  Nobody else noticed, though. Everyone assumed Sarah and Abby were old friends, since they both came from the same tiny town outside Boston. The truth, though, was that they ran in totally different crowds. Abby hung with the jocks, a bunch of popular girls and boys who sat together at a big lunch table and were all on the Winthrop Middle School sports teams. Sarah had only a few close friends, and they mostly kept to themselves. They were smart enough and well-liked enough by the teachers that some of the kids called them “nerds,” but they got along with most everyone. They just weren’t popular, like Abby and her friends. Sarah frowned as she watched everyone dig in to their meat loaf. She loved coming to camp because she felt as if she could do anything here, and no one could tell her that she wasn’t like that, that she was too nerdy, not popular enough, whatever. But she felt like Abby was always on the verge of telling her just that.

  “Hey,” Valerie was saying. “You got sports as
an activity, right, Abby?”

  Abby looked up. “Yeah,” she replied. “I can’t wait to get out there and play! Why?”

  “Well, that means you and Sarah will be in sports together.” Val nudged Sarah with her elbow, almost making her spill her bug juice. “See, Sars? You guys will have a great time together. Two amazing athletes from the same town! What are the chances?”

  Sarah felt her face starting to burn. She’s going to tell everybody. Everyone will know I’m not really a jock. “Well, I’m not that great—”

  But Abby was already speaking. “Yeah,” she was saying. “Well, actually, I didn’t even know Sars played sports.”

  Sarah winced. Sars was a nickname that no one ever called her outside camp. At school, she was just Sarah—Sarah Peyton, teacher’s pet and all-around priss. Well, this was it. Sarah’s cover was about to be blown. But she could out herself—she didn’t have to wait for Abby to do it.

  She put down her bug juice and looked Abby in the eye. “I don’t, at home,” she said simply.

  Alex practically choked on her bug juice. “You don’t?” she asked, slamming her cup down. “But you’re great, Sarah! You’re like the second-best athlete this camp has ever seen!”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Second best?”

  Alex nodded, smiling. “After me, I mean. Well, maybe third best. Jenna’s pretty good, too.”

  “You’re amazing, is the point,” Val chimed in. “You’re such a great athlete! So why don’t you play on any teams at home? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird,” muttered Abby.

  Sarah sighed and looked down at her plate. How could she explain it? The truth was, even she wasn’t sure why she loved playing sports at camp yet never tried them at home. Was she afraid of losing?

  “I guess . . . I’m just really busy at home,” Sarah said. She glanced up just in time to see Abby roll her eyes, but she didn’t think anyone else saw. “With schoolwork, I mean. And besides, camp is the perfect time to branch out, I think—to try something new.” She caught Abby’s eye. “With nobody judging you, you know?”

  Abby looked away.

  “But if you’re good at sports, you’re good at sports,” Alex said, waving around a forkful of green beans. “Why not play on some teams? Don’t you think it’s a waste, Abby?”

  Abby looked up at Alex. “I guess,” she said, sounding skeptical, then glanced sideways at Sarah. “If she really is good. I’ve never seen her play.”

  “She’s amazing,” Grace said, shooting Sarah a big smile.

  Abby took a sip of bug juice and shrugged, still unconvinced. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow.”

  Sarah watched Abby as she lost interest in the conversation and went back to her meal. She kind of half-heard her friends turn the conversation, once again, to the social and what they wanted to do on the committee. Sarah guessed she must have looked normal on the outside, because nobody said anything to her, but inside, she was seething. All right, she thought. It’s okay that Abby doesn’t want to be my friend, or that she thinks she’s too cool for me, or whatever. But now she doesn’t even believe I’m good at sports! She just doesn’t think a “nerd” like me could be good at anything—besides taking tests!

  Sarah was finding it hard to concentrate on her meal. Abby’s attitude was making her madder and madder. She poked at her meat loaf and shoved a few bites in her mouth before the CITs came around again to pick up the dinner plates. I’ll show her, she thought, chewing fiercely. I’ll show her what a “nerd” can do. Tomorrow I’ll blow Abby away at sports. If anyone can impress her, I can!

  chapter THREE

  In her two years at Camp Lakeview, Sarah had learned that there were two kinds of people: those that got up at the crack of dawn, and those that—well—didn’t. Sarah knew she fell into the latter category. She usually had to be dragged out of her bottom bunk, kicking and screaming. But the next day—her first official day back in sports—Sarah was so buzzed, her eyes popped open at the first morning light.

  It was the perfect day to show Abby how wrong she’d been. The sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Feeling totally energized, Sarah took an early shower, put on her favorite cargo shorts and Red Sox hat, and ate everything in sight at breakfast, taking extra pancakes and bacon.

  “Hungry much?” asked Gaby, who was picking at her own cornflakes.

  Sarah just smiled. “I need all the energy I can get for the first day of sports.”

  Abby shot her a skeptical look, but Sarah just flashed her sweetest grin. It doesn’t matter what Abby thinks now—I’ll show her.

  After breakfast, all the campers split off to attend their first activity.

  “Have fun at photography,” Sarah told Grace as she headed to the main practice field.

  “I will.” Grace turned around and flashed Sarah a huge smile. “You have fun in sports, Sarah. Kick some butt for your fellow 4C-ers.”

  Sarah grinned back. “You know I will.”

  Sarah practically skipped from the mess hall to the practice field. Now that she had a mission, she felt like she might burst from excitement. Sarah had always been good at “quiet” activities, like reading and schoolwork, and she knew that led some people to assume she wasn’t competitive or strong. But the truth was, Sarah never felt more alive than she did on the ball field. It didn’t matter what the game was—soccer, baseball, basketball, even tennis. Having the chance to express herself via sports—it was just the greatest feeling in the world.

  As soon as the playing field came into sight, Sarah spotted Jenna. She was standing off to the side talking to some boy, her dark hair blowing in the wind. Sarah ran over to her and tried to tap her on the back, but she was so excited, she practically tackled her accidentally. Jenna stepped forward to avoid falling over and laughed as she turned around. “Sarah, I presume?”

  “Omigod! Sorry, Jenna.”

  “That’s okay,” Jenna replied, smiling. “I had a feeling you’d be pretty psyched this morning, since you didn’t get sports last session. Sarah, this is David, a friend of my brother Adam. David, this is my friend Sarah.” Jenna gestured to her friend. “She really likes sports.”

  David looked at Sarah and smiled. He was a little taller than Jenna, with messy, floppy brown hair and light green eyes. “Hey, Sarah,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I really like sports, too.”

  Sarah took David’s hand to shake it, but he pulled it in, cinched it in his own, let it go, made a fist, bopped the top of her hand, then opened his hand and wiggled his fingers around her wrist. “Secret handshake,” he told her in a low tone. “Keep it quiet. I only teach it to people I really like.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to say something—who was this guy?—but Jenna cut her off. “Hey, isn’t that your friend from home?” she asked, gesturing over to the sidelines. “Andrea or Alli or something like that?”

  Sarah followed her gaze to Abby’s familiar face: wavy brown hair, brown eyes, freckles. For once, Sarah noted with some satisfaction, Abby looked a little unsure of herself. Without Gaby around, she didn’t seem to know who to reach out to. Abby looked up and down the field, probably trying to find someone she recognized. When she didn’t seem to find anyone, she frowned and started playing awkwardly with her hair. Sarah felt a little bad for her.

  “Abby!” she yelled. Now that she was surrounded by friends and Abby had nobody, she figured she could afford to be nice.

  Abby looked a little surprised to see Sarah calling for her, but her expression quickly turned to relief as she jogged over to the three of them. “Hey,” she said. “Sarah, I would have walked over here with you, but by the time I went looking for you, you were gone.”

  “Right,” Sarah said. “Listen, this is my friend Jenna, we were in 3C together last year, and this is . . . David. Her brother’s friend.”

  “Hi.” Abby smiled and nodded awkwardly. “So, hey, I’m really psyched to get started. What do you think we’re going to play to
day?”

  Before any of them could answer, one of the counselors started yelling. “All right, everyone! Gather around here! I’m Keith, and I’m going to be your head coach for this session.” Different members of the sports staff took turns running the electives each session.

  All of the campers in sports—about twenty in all—started moving toward the center of the field, where Keith and three other counselors stood. When they formed a half circle around him, Keith continued. “This is Kimberly. She’s going to be my assistant coach for this session. We’re going to be trying something new for the next two weeks, so I hope you guys are feeling adventurous.”

  Sarah glanced over at Jenna. Adventurous? What does he mean by that?

  “Donkey basketball,” she heard David stage-whisper. “Awesome.”

  “Usually,” Keith continued, oblivious to David’s comment, “we kind of mix it up for the sports session. One day we’ll play soccer, the next dodgeball, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “Have you ever played donkey basketball?” Sarah heard David whisper to Jenna. “It’s like basketball but on donkeys. I wonder where they’re going to get the donkeys?”

  “This session,” Keith was saying, “we’re going to try something a little different. Kimberly and I were brainstorming last week, and we started thinking, wouldn’t it be great to get you guys organized into teams and have some kind of tournament for the whole two weeks?”

  “I don’t think he’s talking about donkeys,” Sarah heard Jenna whisper to David.

  “So ladies and gentlemen—” Here Keith reached down into a canvas bag that he had next to him and pulled out a bat and a big rubber ball. “—I give you, softball!”

  “WOOOOO!” Sarah couldn’t hold back a whoop of excitement. Softball! She was awesome at softball! Sure, she didn’t play on the school team, but she’d played plenty of times at camp last year. This was perfect!