Authors: Annalisa Grant
We’ve just about got everything in order when we both hear and see Cal and Miller coming from the direction of the lake. It’s dark at first with only the spots of their flashlights shining through the trees, but then they make their way into the flood light beaming from the corner of the roof. They’re arguing about something and being followed by three boys, and Miller has someone huddled under his arm. Oh my God, it’s Margaret!
“Hey! What’s going on?” I
call as Amy and I fly out of the dining hall. “Margaret? Are you okay?” She rushes to me and when I pull her away for a moment to look at her I see that her button-down top is completely unbuttoned. “What happened?”
“The boys were being boys,” Cal says by way of explanation. “Miller here clearly doesn’t understand that.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“The boys had Margaret against a tree, taking turns feeling her up,” Miller says, shooting daggers from his eyes at the boys.
“She was there willingly,” one of the boys pipes in. I look at all three boys and recognize them from the night I caught them in the dining hall with that weird leather-bound book. I examine the boys further and see that one of them is clearly hiding the book under his shirt.
“Shut your mouth. You don’t talk,” Miller barks.
“Well she was,” Cal says in defense of the boys.
“Does she look like she was having a good time? When I walked up, she already ha
d tears streaming down her face you ass!” Miller gets right up in Cal’s face and an electric bolt of nervousness shoots through me. Cal is a big guy, almost twice Miller’s size. If they get into a fight, Cal could kill him.
“
She just got a little nervous out there. She’s okay, right, Kin?” Cal asks. All eyes are on me as I hold this scared little girl in my arms. Cal still doesn’t comprehend what’s happening here. Margaret is hiccupping from her heavy, muffled crying and my shirt is getting soaked with her tears.
“
Um, well … she’s deathly afraid of the dark. Especially the dark woods.” I know I should say something else, but somehow this is all I can squeak out. Amy widens her eyes at me and I know exactly what she’s screaming at me in her head: “This is your chance, Kinley! What better out is there than this! He totally doesn’t get that this girl is scarred for life!”
Miller furr
ows his brow and looks at me as if to say
Is that all you have to say?
“Why are you taking this so personally, man? They were just doing what kids do.
We’ve all played a little doctor!” Cal says, drawing Miller’s attention back to him.
“This is
not
what kids do,” Miller begins and motioning to Margaret.
“Geez! Who invited the grandpa?” one of the boys says sarcastically.
Miller squeezes his eyes shut and balls his hands into fists. His nostrils flare and he stretches his neck to either side. He could be calming himself down, or he could be readying himself for a fight. He opens his eyes and composes himself before he takes a step toward the boys.
“You stay away from this girl. And if I find out you
’re even flirting with another girl, I swear to God I will make it so you wish hadn’t stepped foot on this camp.” Miller’s words are strong and fierce, making it easy to surmise his deeper meaning. He turns and looks at me again, this time shaking his head, before he leaves us all standing there in the wake of his fury.
“What is
up
with that guy? He’s way too intense for me. He needs to lighten up,” Cal says. “Alright, boys, head back to your cabin and try to stay out of trouble.” Cal’s words have no real meaning. In fact, they’re condescending and completely dismissive of the impact this event has had on Margaret. She hasn’t moved an inch in my arms and only now is her crying really subsiding. “I’m going to head over to the bonfire. Everyone good here?”
Amy and I nod with blank faces, still unable to believe how
unaware and insensitive Cal has been. He walks away and disappears behind a building. I look at Amy looking at me, waiting for me to say something.
“What?” I whisper.
“Seriously?” she says in astonishment.
“Ok
ay. I get it. But we have other things to focus on right now,” I say, tilting my head toward Margaret. I begin to slowly move her out of my arms. At first she doesn’t seem like she’s going to move, but then lifts her head and begins to wipe her eyes. “You okay? Do you want to tell me what happened?”
We move back and sit on the steps to the dining hall. Amy runs inside and gets a bottle of water from the kitchen and brings it back for Margaret. She takes a few sips before she’s calm enough to talk.
“Chad, the boy with the blond hair … he’s been acting like he likes me for a week. He would sit next to me at meals, and sometimes he even let his friends go ahead of him so he could stay back with me,” she begins to explain. “But then he was mean to me and totally ignored me on the hike the other day. He acted like he didn’t even know me. I walked almost the whole trail alone because no one would talk to me after Chad told them I was weird.”
“Is that why you didn’t
want to go on the hike when I suggested it?” Margaret nods. “So what happened tonight?” I ask while Margaret takes another few sips from the water bottle.
“He asked me to meet him down by the canoes.
He said he wanted to apologize for how he had treated me. When I got there he was alone, but the other boys showed up almost right away. And then …” She begins to get choked up, so I decide to ask her some ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions so I can get a better idea of what happened without upsetting her.
“Did Chad
or one of the other boys unbutton your shirt?” I ask softly.
Margaret shakes her head ‘no.’
“Did you?”
She nods ‘yes.’
“Did you do it because he told you to?” I have a feeling he used phrases like “If you really like me, you’ll do this for me.”
Douchebag in training.
Margaret nods her head ‘yes’ again and I think I might throw up. Not just at how disgusted I am with these four boys, but with Cal. That he would think that this behavior was just “boys being boys” is appalling.
“Did the boys take turns touching you?”
She quickly shakes her head ‘no’, making her hair flop around and into her face. She’s probably glad for the covering.
“Margaret, I have to ask you one last question. It’s the most difficult one to ask.” I look at Amy. She makes a tight line with her lips, knowing what I have to ask. “Did Chad, or any of the boys, make you do anything else you didn’t want do? I know it’s difficult, but you can tell us. We’re here to help.”
Her answer comes slower this time and I’m afraid of how she’s going to respond. She finally shakes her head ‘no’ and I let out a sigh, not realizing I had been holding my breath.
“Okay. Now, Margaret, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening to me?” I ask. She nods just enough for me to recognize. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Chad is a jerk and not worth another second of your time. I’ll tell Mrs. Fellows an
d
‒
‒
”
“No! Don’t tell her. Don’t tell anyone!” Margaret’s head snaps up and her eyes are wide and alert. “Please. It’s too embarrassing. Please don’t tell anyone,” she pleads.
Amy and I look at each other like the other one will know what to do. I think I
should
tell someone. You always think you’ll know what to do in a situation like this, but it’s not so black and white. By Margaret’s account it sounds like a terrible situation, but I’m not sure if there’s anything that anyone did wrong. Being a douchebag and tricking a girl into thinking you like her so you can cop a feel in front of your creepy friends isn’t against the law. It’s despicable and gross, but not against the law.
“Alright. Let’s just sleep on it tonight. Things usually look clearer after a good night’s sleep,” Amy says.
“I agree. Let’s get you back to your cabin, okay?” I stand up and bring Margaret with me. We walk back to her cabin, where the other girls are still up. Seeing how upset she is, they rush to her side, which makes my heart literally skip a beat with joy.
The girls ask why Margaret is upset and she looks to me to give them some kind of answer. Thinking quickly, I tell them about Chad and the other boys playing a mean trick on Margaret, and if they know what’s good for them, they’ll stay away from those boys. The girls agree almost in unison at what a jerk Chad is and vow to treat him and his goons like they are the walking plague. Margaret smiles a little and I think about how far they’ve come since that first, cruel exchange on their arrival day. It’s nice to know Margaret has her own team of friends to surround her with love and support. Kind of like how I feel about Amy.
“I need to talk to Miller,” I tell Amy as we walk back to The Lodge.
“It’s Cal you need to talk to
… so you can kick his ass to the curb!” she says emphatically. “I can’t believe you didn’t dump him right then and there after that display of douchebaggery.”
“I think I was just stunned with the whole situation. But I’m more concerned about the way Miller looked at me. It was like he was disgusted. He’s right to feel that way. I should have said more. I should have done more.” Disappointment rages inside me. I can’t believe I didn’t stand up for Margaret. I can’t believe I didn’t tell Cal he was being a chauvinistic pig.
“Hey, it’s okay, Kinley. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten all worked up. It was a highly emotional situation and we don’t always know what to do in the moment. Sometimes we need a minute to step back and figure things out. So … just step back and handle things with Cal and Miller like you wish you would have in the moment.” Amy puts her arm around my shoulder and squeezes.
I’m not sure where Miller might be. The chances of him being at the bonfire are pretty slim right now, so I pop into The Lodge first to see if he’s there. When I don’t find him in the common are I take a chance on him being in his room. Reaching the top of the stairs
, I hear some of the guys talking. At first I hope it’s Miller talking with Matthew, but as I make it down the hall I hear the voices coming from Cal’s room.
“What the hell, Brandon! Your brother an
d his idiot friends need to take it down a notch!” Cal says angrily. Is he actually mad at what the boys did? Why didn’t he just scold them when Miller caught them?
“What? You
said so yourself, they were just being boys. Just like we were,” Brandon answers him. I guess Brandon was with him here at Lake Hollis when they were both kids.
“Yeah, well,
things have changed. And they had the journal with them. If anyone finds that journal, it’s all over. Do you even understand that?” Cal scolds.
“You can’t blame them fo
r wanting to devour it, Cal. Yours is the hottest entry in there!”
“You’re not listening
! You tell those boys to keep the journal hidden in their cabin or they’re out of The League.” Cal’s warning is stern and serious. His warning has also piqued my interest. The boys were definitely fascinated by whatever it is that’s in that journal. And Cal has an entry in it?
I think I just might need to get my hands on tha
t journal.
Rain. All it’s done since one this the morning, is rain. We were due, though. It rained one solid day last summer and that’s when Mr. Fellows informed us that “summer isn’t summer without at least one good rainstorm.”
After breakfast
I asked Mr. Fellows if I could spend the day sorting through and editing pictures, and would he mind turning the WiFi on for me. He thought it was a great idea since there’s no place for rainy pictures on the website or brochure. When I asked if there were any other areas of the camp I needed to feature, all he said was, “The lake! Always the lake! Lake Hollis is our bread and butter!” He’s so vague about exactly what it is he’s looking for, but, I guess that’s not totally weird. A lot of people can’t describe the kind of picture they’re looking for, or what they want taken; they just know it when they see it.
There’s
still a strange division in the room. Addy’s clique is stationed at their usual place, and I’m sitting with what has become my usual crew … minus Miller. He moved back to the single table against the wall the other day where he’s writing furiously in his notebook again. His silent treatment got awkward after a few days so I guess he thought it best to move. The look he gave me the night of the incident with Margaret told me that I didn’t respond the way I was supposed to. Now he’s not talking to me and I don’t know how to fix it.
I’ve seen Cal only twice in the last week and it wasn’t anything to write hom
e about. We hung out at the bonfire once, but that was short-lived. Addy was off with Mia doing I don’t know what. I basically stood next to Cal while he and Brad and Ted told stories of football glory. The other girls were totally into it but I seriously could not have cared less. The next time we took another mostly-silent walk on the trail. He kissed me again, and,
again
, I felt nothing. Somehow, whatever it is we’re doing doesn’t feel like how it’s supposed to feel.
On top of the awkwardness I already feel when I’m with Cal, I’m still thinking about how to find out what The League is and how to get that journal. I’ve tried to search their cabin, but any chance I’ve had hasn’t given me enough time to really look.
I’m sure I’m making more of this than I need to. I should find something to distract me if I’m going to squash the curiosity that is piqued in me.
After a quick counselor meeting to strategize the day Mr. Fellows dismisses us.
I tell Amy that I’m going to be holed up in our room all day and she offers to check on Margaret. I feel pretty confident that she’s okay. Well, on her way to being okay. It’s been several days, and after the way her roommates came to her I don’t think any of them are going to abandon her. I’ve spotted them around camp and they seem to be a strong band of sisters.
Friendship and support. I
’ve been thinking about that a lot since my conversation with Amy. I lay in bed last night and listened to the rain pelt the window, wondering if I’ll ever be able to shut Addy and Christine’s voices out, not knowing if I’ll ever be able to trust my sister again. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be contemplating what to do after the betrayal of my own sister. I’m confused and all I really want to do is talk to Miller about it. But, I can’t because Miller isn’t talking to me.
The crowd begins to disperse and I
reach for my raincoat. It’s in my hands when Addison takes it from me.
“Give me my raincoat, Addison,” I say flatly.
“Not until you talk to me.” She folds her arms in true Addison form, with my raincoat between her arms and her chest.
“Fine,” I say, giving in. If she’s ready to talk, then I’m willing to listen. “What is it that you’d like to say?” I stare at Addy, waiting to hear what sorry excuse for an apology she’s about to give, or how she’s going to turn it around and somehow make me the villain.
Seeing that I’m not going to initiate the conversation, Addison gives in and speaks. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Kinley.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, of course,” she says, offended that I would even question her sincerity.
“Do you have any idea how deep the cut is? This is a wound that is going to take a long time to heal.” Addy looks at me, at a loss for words. “You don’t have a clue.” Shaking my head
, I reach for my raincoat and pull as hard as I can. I get most of it before Addy releases her arms and grabs ahold of the coat, keeping me standing in front of her.
“Okay
… so I don’t completely understand how you feel. Honestly, I don’t really understand you at all. All Christine and I have ever done is tried to help you be better. You’re such an awesome person, Kin. I just want your outside to match your inside.” Addy’s tone rings of sincerity and I believe she truly believes what she’s saying. That’s the scary part.
“That
’s the problem, Addison. Until you see the insanity of your statement, I can’t be around you.” I take my raincoat from her and put it on as I take a step toward the door.
“I’ve never done anything to
intentionally hurt you, Kinley,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Everything I have ever done has been because I love you.”
“The fact that you believe that is the other problem.”
I head towards the door and see Miller bolt through it. I flip the hood up on my raincoat quickly and follow him out. He’s walking fast back toward The Lodge, which is convenient. If I can’t work up the nerve to confront him, I’m on my way back to The Lodge anyway. I slosh through the puddles in my rain boots and just try to breathe out the nervousness welling inside me. I’m about to call out his name when he stops dead in his tracks.
“Stop following me, Kinley,” he says without turning around. I can’t see his face or even the side of it because the hood on his raincoat is up, too.
“I’m not … I was just …” I stutter. “Why are you mad at me?” I manage to spit out.
He turns around and gives me
that same confused look for a moment before he walks up close to me. My heart begins to beat hard inside my chest and I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared of what Miller is going to say, or because I don’t like the idea of Miller and I being on the outs.
“I’m not mad
at you,” he says as the rain falls on us.
“Then why are
you ignoring me? Why are you sitting at the other table? Why are you pushing me away?”
“I’m disappointed
, Kinley. I was walking back with Margaret huddled under my arm and, outside of working to keep myself from beating the crap out of those boys, I was actually a little happy. I was happy because I thought that after you saw and heard what an insensitive ass Cal is that you would see he’s no good for you. But then you just stood there and mumbled some crap, essentially telling him that he was right and that I was over reacting.”
“That’s not
… I don’t know … It was a very intense situation.” Why can’t I put the right words together? “I’m sorry …”
“I tell you everything about Kara and you don’t for a second consider that guys like this could have been the cause of her pain?” he shouts. He may say he’s not mad, but he is.
“Those kids weren’t even here then, Miller!”
“No, but their kind were! Guys like Cal make a tradition out of teasing and leading girls like Margaret, like Kara, on! Only
I wasn’t around when Kara was here, so God only knows what they did to her!”
“Miller, please
… please stop yelling at me. I’m sorry! No, I didn’t think about that at the time. Now that you say it, though, yes, it makes perfect sense why you were so upset. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I begin to cry, not sure of how I even ended up here: standing in the rain, arguing with the only person I’ve ever felt close to.
“You know what the worst part
was? When I should have been royally pissed at Cal and those a-holes in training for carrying out the legacy that could have been the catalyst to my sister’s suicide … I was thinking about
you
. I was hurt. Not because you didn’t see the connection to Kara, but because I was sure you’d break things off with Cal. I thought you’d see the two of us standing there and know who to choose. But, you didn’t. And now I have two reasons to hate this place.”
He looks at me for a minute and, surprisingly, all I want is for him to hold me
, for us to go back and recapture the moments and feelings we had the morning he took me to watch the sunrise. He shakes his head and walks away, leaving me standing in the rain like a scene in a sad movie. I have no words and no idea what to do next. I’m afraid to turn around for fear that an audience has assembled. I don’t need the sympathetic looks from anyone, especially my sister.
I clench my teeth and take a step forward. Once I make that first step I don’t stop until I reach
my room. I don’t walk as quickly as I probably should for someone who’s afraid a crowd gathered and saw her be completely humiliated in the rain. I’m too caught up in my thoughts. I peel my rain boots and raincoat off and toss them in the corner of my room. I hope the water and mud dripping from them doesn’t mess up the floor.
He wanted me to choose him? He wanted me to choose him. Oh my god.
All this time we’ve been spending together it never occurred to me that Miller was looking at me that way. I thought
… I thought we were just friends, just kindred, artistic spirits, two people who understood each other. Holy crap! I just defined the core of what any reasonable person looks for in a partner.
I am an idiot.
I’ve got to find Miller. I have to talk to him. I don’t know what I’m going to say exactly, but I have to find him. A glance out the window tells me that now is not the right time. It’s still pouring rain and everyone else is out there trying to occupy the time of easily-bored middle-schoolers. He needs time to cool off anyway. I’m not convinced he would listen to anything I had to say right now, so my search for him could be completely pointless.
I need to calm down, too. I have a ton of work ahead of me and despite all of this I have a job to do. I can’t abandon it to chase after
Miller and apologize for being oblivious. The best thing for me to do is to throw myself into my work today. At some point I suppose I’ll have to revisit things with Miller, unless … unless the connection and closeness we shared just disintegrated in the pouring rain.
Opening my photo editing program
, I begin sorting through the photos that I already decided I would keep. Because I’m trying to focus even harder now, I go back to the beginning of camp a couple of weeks ago. The first picture I work on is the one I took of Margaret that first day. Her raven hair shines in the sunlight and her smile is so honest. She was genuinely surprised to see me turn and take her picture over taking pictures of her roommates. I was kind of harsh with Paisley and the other girls, but it seems to have worked out for the best with them.
I brighten the picture and remove the bus from peeking through the buildings in the background. I don’t do anything
to Margaret because I’m completely opposed to retouching photos of people. I entered into a losing battle with Addison over this. Of course, her position was that no one wants to see cellulite on a Victoria’s Secret poster. And, of course, she couldn’t wrap her brain around the fact that those girls are not a representation of real women. “They could be if real women tried harder,” she said. I could fill a book with the ridiculous statements Addison has made through the years.
I skip lunch in the dining hall and opt for a couple of apples and a Coke from the kitchen downstairs. I’
m on a roll and since I started at the beginning, giving myself over two weeks of pictures to review and edit, I don’t want to lose too much momentum.
Hours pass and my vision is getting blurry.
All these kids and trees are starting to look alike. I put all the potential camp pictures in one file on my computer, which means I haven’t had to cross over any pictures of Cal or Addison or Miller. I need to take my mind off camp for a while so I open file of shots I took in the city to clear my head. They’re so industrial compared to what I’ve been looking at. The exact opposite. “This is what I need right now,” I say to myself.
What could be more opposite than the Fellows’ pictures from the Grand Canyon? I need to smile and I’m sure there are matching shirts and fanny packs somewhere in this album. I open the file and it does not disappoint.
The scenery is breathtaking, but I’m mostly interested in what the Fellows have to offer. Picture after picture I smile at how perfect they are for each other, and cringe at their awkwardness. It makes me hopeful.
“So this is what ‘working’ looks like?” Matthew says as he opens the door to my room. “You are so busted!”
“I think we’re going to have to report you!” Amy says, following close behind him with a napkin filled with cookies in her hand.
“Of course you would show up just as I’m taking a break!” I laugh.
“I brought you a cookie, but I’m not sure you deserve it.” Amy waves a cookie in front of my and Matthew’s faces and I roll my eyes at her silliness.
“Why are you taunting me?” Matthews says, snatching the cookie from her hand. “I’ve been working all morning! I didn’t get almost thrown up on by a claustrophobic
ten-year-old for nothing!”