Politically Incorrect Page 7

  Whatever was eating at Chelsea now had her lashing out at people she barely even knew. Sloan couldn’t ignore it any longer.

  “Hey, Miles, could you give me and Chelsea a second to talk privately?” Sloan hoped he’d be understanding.

  “No problem,” he said good-naturedly, and began to wander in the direction of a different group.

  As soon as Miles was out of earshot, Sloan began to question her friend.

  “Chelse, it’s obvious that you are upset about something. What is it?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” Chelsea said tersely.

  “C’mon, you can tell me,” Sloan reassured her. “And it’ll stay just between us.”

  Chelsea buried her face in her hands for a moment and then looked up at Sloan sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been kind of moody today. And I feel awful about how I’m acting. I really do. It’s just—”

  Sloan waited for Chelsea to finish her sentence, but she got so choked up, she couldn’t.

  Once she took a big gulp of air, Chelsea said, “I’m going to take a short walk, okay? I’ll see you back at the tent later.”

  Sloan’s shoulders slumped forward. She was so disappointed that Chelsea wouldn’t open up to her and allow her to help. “All right.”

  “And could you tell Miles that I’m sorry?” Chelsea added.

  “Sure,” Sloan replied.

  “Thanks.” Chelsea began to walk away, but she stopped for a moment and turned around to add, “Have fun at Tricia’s party.”

  Sloan just smiled, then watched Chelsea slink through the rock garden as the sun began to set in the early evening sky.

  chapter TEN

  “Turn the music up, Nat! We need to get our groove on!” Tricia shouted as she mingled among a big cluster of adoring Walla Walla campers. Natalie grimaced, turning up the volume of the i-deck a notch. This was the twentieth order that Tricia had flung at her today, and she was getting kind of tired of obliging. True, Dr. Steve had asked her to stick by Tricia and make her feel at home, but being her gopher was above and beyond the call of duty, wasn’t it?

  “This is one sweet jam,” Priya said, dancing alongside Brynn.

  “Nat, you are so lucky! I’d give anything to stay here with Tricia,” Sarah said. “She’s ridiculously fun!”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of jealous,” Joanna added.

  Natalie bit her lip to stop herself from telling her friends what hanging out with Tricia was really like. She wanted to be honest, but didn’t have it in her to give Tricia a bad rep.

  “I guess,” was all Natalie could say.

  “This sure beats planning the Green Festival,” Jenna said. “I had no idea how much work it was going to be.”

  Natalie sighed with regret. She would die to switch places with Jenna. Natalie wasn’t getting much out of her time spent with Tricia except the blisters on her feet from running around at Tricia’s beck and call. If she hadn’t given up the committee chairperson job, she’d probably be much happier.

  “Well, I’m having a great time,” said a chipper voice from behind Natalie.

  Natalie and her friends turned around to see Sloan standing beside the cute new boy, Miles. They were both all smiles, like they’d discovered buried treasure or something.

  “When did you guys get here?” Jordan asked.

  “Just a minute ago. Sorry we’re late. Sloan and I lost track of time at the rock garden,” Miles replied with a small smile.

  All the girls raised their eyebrows, including Natalie. It seemed as though their friend had a not-so-secret admirer.

  “Anyway, Jasmine just walked us over here, and we’re ready to party,” Sloan said cheerfully.

  “Awesome,” said Jenna. “Tricia is such a blast. She’s been cranking some great tunes.”

  “Is there anything to drink?” Miles asked.

  “Yeah, Ellie brought over some organic fruit punch. It’s delish,” Priya said. “Want some?”

  “Sure,” Miles said, then turned to Sloan. “Should I get you a cup?”

  Sloan blushed. “Yes, thanks.”

  Natalie felt a twinge in her chest. What she wouldn’t give for a crush right now! At least then she’d have something to be psyched about. Sloan was so lucky—she had the perfect summer-camp job to add to her college app and a hot guy who obviously liked her.

  Natalie felt a tug on her arm. It was Sloan, and she looked kind of worried.

  “Hey, Nat, can I speak to you outside for a minute?” Sloan asked.

  Natalie heard the concern in her friend’s voice and knew whatever she had to say was important. “Okay.”

  She and Sloan walked outside to the front of the tent, where Tricia’s bodyguard Wharton was standing at attention. Natalie felt a little weird about pretending like he wasn’t there, but that’s what Tricia had said to do, so she didn’t acknowledge him at all.

  “What’s up?” Natalie was kind of hoping that Sloan needed some extra help with the Green Festival. That would definitely make her day.

  “It’s Chelsea,” Sloan said.

  Chelsea?

  “What about her?”

  Sloan glanced at Wharton, as if to make sure he wasn’t eavesdropping, then continued. “She’s seemed really bent out of shape these past couple of days. I was wondering if you knew anything about it.”

  Natalie was confused. “Of course I don’t. Why?”

  “Well, Chelsea seemed kind of annoyed at you for spending so much time with Tricia and—”

  “Wait a second,” Natalie interrupted. She had a feeling that Sloan was about to say that Chelsea’s funk was somehow her fault. That couldn’t be further from the truth! “I tried to switch places with Chelsea so that she could room with Tricia and she totally backed out.” Sloan started at Natalie, clearly puzzled. “Oh, really?”

  Natalie nodded.

  “But why would she make a point of telling me she wasn’t going to come to the party?” Sloan asked quizzically. “It was like she wanted to avoid you guys.”

  Natalie was starting to get annoyed. Sloan had all these things going for her this summer—including the job Natalie wanted. Did she have to play the role of chief busybody, too?

  “Look, Sloan. Tricia and I invited Chelsea to come, just like everyone else. I don’t know why she’s so upset, or why you’re being so nosy.”

  Natalie didn’t like the curt tone of her own voice, but she couldn’t control herself. She was just so tired of dealing with Tricia, and it was making her kind of short-tempered.

  “I’m not being nosy. I’m just looking out for my friends,” Sloan said firmly.

  Natalie’s cheeks burned red, and she could feel her pulse quicken. Was Sloan trying to insinuate that Natalie didn’t look out for her friends? Because that would be way off base. All she’d been doing for the past two days was looking out for people—everyone except herself, in fact.

  “Are you trying to say that I’m a bad friend or something?”

  Sloan started to backpedal. “No, I’d never say anything like that.”

  Getting into an argument with Sloan wasn’t going to do much good, and Natalie knew that if she said anything else, that would certainly happen.

  “I’m going back inside, Sloan.” Natalie spun around and walked toward the tent without looking back at her friend.

  But before she could open the tent door, it slammed open. Tricia stood in the doorframe, all wide-eyed and happy-faced.

  “There you are!” she exclaimed so loudly that Wharton winced a little bit. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  What I wouldn’t give to be invisible, Natalie thought.

  “We ran out of treats, so I talked Ellie into taking all of us to the dining hall for some post-party ice cream. Then we’re all going to the nature hut to play with Paris. She hasn’t been feeling well lately,” Tricia explained, nearly tripping over her words with excitement. “Are you guys coming?”

  Natalie peered over her shoulder at Sloan, who appeared to have all bu
t forgotten about the tense conversation they’d just had.

  “Sounds great,” Sloan said. “Lead the way.”

  “What about you, Nat?” Tricia asked.

  Natalie searched her feelings and realized that she wasn’t in the mood for ice cream or socializing. Some quiet time was what she needed, for sure.

  “I think I’m going to sit this one out, Tricia,” Natalie said. “You guys go ahead.”

  “Oh, okay,” Tricia said, sounding disappointed. Then she turned around and shouted out the crowd behind her, “Hey, everyone! Let’s get out of here, like, pronto!”

  Natalie glanced behind Tricia and saw the entire group cheer, even Ellie, who at the moment seemed more like a camper than a counselor.

  “See you later, roomie!” Tricia said, hugging Natalie tightly.

  Oh brother, Natalie thought.

  As the crowd filtered through the door, everyone said good-bye and thanked Natalie for her hospitality, one by one.

  When Natalie entered the bunk, she was surprised by how clean it looked. There wasn’t a stray piece of garbage to be found anywhere in the tent. Natalie smiled proudly. Maybe Tricia had turned over a new leaf.

  Given that it was a hot summer night, Natalie thought she might take a quick three-minute shower. It would certainly be a nice way to relax. She went to the closet that she and Tricia shared in search of her pink terrycloth bathrobe. But when she opened the closet door, Natalie was showered with an avalanche of trash.

  Once the last piece of garbage fell out of the closet, Natalie looked down at her feet. She couldn’t believe the amount of debris! It was enough to attract a small bear or baby bobcat. She could tell from the pile of greasy McDonald’s bags that this wasn’t trash from the party. Tricia had created this disaster all by herself.

  I guess this is Tricia’s idea of pre-party cleaning. Ugh!

  Natalie found the box of garbage bags that she’d picked up earlier and began to fill them with junk food wrappers and Styrofoam containers and plastic water bottles. She could feel her blood pressure rising with every item she tossed in the bags. Acting as Tricia’s maid sure wasn’t what Natalie had signed on for.

  After Natalie cleared out the room and tied up the last of the bags, she spotted a folded-up note that must have fallen onto the floor while she was cleaning. On the front it read FOR NAT, and on the back, FROM TRICIA.

  “More like Trash-a,” Natalie mumbled to herself.

  Natalie opened the note.

  Natalie could not believe her eyes. Good friend? She felt more like a personal assistant to Tricia than a friend.

  Maybe Tricia had led such a privileged life that she just couldn’t tell the difference.

  chapter ELEVEN

  The last place Chelsea wanted to be on Wednesday morning was a nature walk. Everyone was all atwitter because Dr. Steve announced that the National Gazette was sending their reporters to the Green Festival. Chelsea didn’t feel up to chatting with her friends about the Gazette or anything else for that matter. Who cared if some dumb newspaper was coming? Basically Chelsea was tired of all things green. All she wanted to do was hide out somewhere, but the nature walk was a mandatory activity—for everyone except Tricia and Natalie, of course. Apparently the nature counselor had excused them because Tricia wanted Natalie and Ellie—and Jones, of course—to take her horseback riding.

  “Maybe if we collect enough wild berries on this walk we can serve them to the National Gazette people,” Priya said as she plucked a handful of blueberries out of a tall bush and dropped them into a white bucket.

  “With a side of homemade ice cream,” Sarah added.

  David licked his lips. “That sounds delicious.”

  Brynn knelt down and picked up some wildflowers that were growing along a narrow part of the nature path. “Some of us could wear these in our hair, like this. That’ll catch some attention.”

  She took a piece of the stem and tucked it behind her ear.

  “Not me!” Jordan exclaimed, making everyone laugh.

  “Count me out, too,” Jenna said with a frown.

  “I’m a classic tomboy, which means dirt under my fingernails, not lavender in my hair.”

  “That’s so gross,” Joanna said.

  “Can you talk some sense into Jenna, Chelse? She’s going to ruin our chances of being spotted by the Gazette reporter,” Priya pleaded.

  Chelsea sat cross-legged on a large, smooth rock, braiding three blades of grass together. She was deep in thought and oblivious to what her friends were talking about. She kept replaying the moment Natalie told Tricia about that stupid shirt, and how Tricia had looked kind of creeped out by it. Each time she recalled how embarrassed she was, she got more irate. Chelsea had stood by her word and hadn’t told anyone about Natalie’s essay. Why couldn’t Natalie have kept Chelsea’s secret, too?

  Suddenly a pair of fingers snapped in front of Chelsea’s face and brought her back to reality.

  “What? Did I miss something?” Chelsea asked.

  Sloan was standing in front of her with an impatient look on her face. “How about our entire conversation?”

  “Sorry, I was just—”

  “Daydreaming?” Sloan interjected. “We could see that. What about?”

  “Oh, nothing. I was just . . .” Chelsea nibbled on her lip, trying to come up with a good story. “Thinking about what I might say if I’m interviewed by the Gazette. I don’t want to seem like a babbling idiot.”

  “Are you kidding? You could never seem like that,” Sloan said with a friendly smile.

  “Yeah, well, I think I’m going to sneak back to the tent and jot some things down on paper. I’d hate to lose this train of thought.” Chelsea hoped her friends would buy this excuse and cover for her. She really wasn’t in the mood to commune with nature.

  “Okay, if anyone asks, you’re sick or something,” Sloan said as the rest of the girls nodded along.

  “Thanks.” Chelsea gave Sloan a quick hug and ducked behind a tree while the rest of the group wandered off behind the counselor, who was too busy pointing out types of foliage to notice Chelsea’s departure.

  Once they were out of sight, Chelsea tiptoed down the nature path, back the way she had come. She intended to stop by the resource center and nestle down with a good magazine—perhaps a fun “Is He into You?” quiz would help get her out of this funk. But when she walked by Tricia and Natalie’s new living quarters, her feet suddenly came to a halt.

  Even though Chelsea was angry at Natalie for embarrassing her, and felt too humiliated to hang out with Tricia, she regretted not going to the party last night. Everyone had been talking over breakfast about what a great time they had, and she felt like such an outsider. It was the worst feeling in the world.

  If Natalie hadn’t opened her mouth, none of this would be happening, she thought.

  Chelsea was just about to walk away when she smelled something rotten that seemed like it was coming from the back of tent. Curious, she followed the scent behind the bunk, where she discovered a huge, slightly open garbage bag with flies hovering above it.

  Ick, that’s so nasty!she thought.

  Chelsea pinched her nose with her fingers, leaned over, and took a better look. Inside, there were countless Styrofoam containers and plastic water bottles, and even some crushed, grease-soaked paper containers that had once held McDonald’s french fries.

  She was completely stunned. How could two girls generate so much trash, especially when one of them was the daughter of the supposedly “green” president of the United States? Then she saw a crumpled up piece of paper on the top that read NATALIE. It looked like a handwritten note.

  Chelsea swallowed hard and gingerly picked the piece of paper out of the trash. When she opened it up and read it, her anger at Natalie began to grow. Such a good friend . . . ? Puhleeze!thought Chelsea. What kind of good friend couldn’t keep a secret?

  Chelsea dug into the pockets of her khaki shorts and pulled out her digital camera, which she’d br
ought along for the nature walk. She aimed her camera at the garbage bag and took a few pictures of it. Then she dashed over to her tent, slamming the door behind her.

  She rummaged through her closet and found her laptop computer, the same one she’d snuck into camp and had used to help Natalie write her contest-winning essay. Chelsea set the laptop down on her bed and turned it on. While it was warming up, she hooked up her camera to her laptop and uploaded the pictures from her memory card. Once she located a wireless network and hopped online, she created an anonymous e-mail account and transcribed a quick e-mail, then attached the photos from her camera.

  To: mail@NationalGazette.com

  Subject: Is Camp Walla Walla really “green”?

  See for yourself . . .

  Chelsea’s hands began to shake as soon as she stopped typing. What in heaven’s name was she doing? Was she really that mad at Natalie?

  Tears formed at the corners of Chelsea’s eyes, blurring her vision a bit. She knew deep in her heart that she had changed so much since her days at Camp Lakeview. Doing something this mean would be a thousand steps backward for her, and she knew she would regret it.

  Chelsea hit the Discard button on the e-mail and sighed in relief. She was happy that she hadn’t acted so rashly and stupidly.

  After a few deep breaths, she wiped the tears from her eyes with the bottom of her T-shirt and went to turn off her laptop. But when she read what was on the screen, she froze.

  YOUR E-MAIL HAS BEEN SENT.

  This had to be a mistake. She’d deleted it, hadn’t she? Chelsea frantically checked the Sent folder and found one item in it. She quickly double-clicked and saw her short e-mail to the National Gazette, clear as day.

  Chelsea was certain she was going to hyper-ventilate and then die. Frankly, she was okay with that. At least then she wouldn’t have to witness the impact of the fireball that would hit Camp Walla Walla tomorrow when the reporter came.

  chapter TWELVE

  Sloan was so nervous by Thursday afternoon, she had nearly bitten her nails down to the skin. Any minute now, Dr. Steve would be bringing the National Gazette reporter and photographer to the girls’ bunk for a brief interview, and Sloan hoped it would go well.