Camp Utopia & the Forgiveness Diet (9781940192567) (16 page)

“Well,” he said, “I gained weight too. It just means we gotta work double time next week, Bethesda.”

“Baltimore.”

“Right. Baltimore. You just have to do better next week. No B-F-D.”

Sure.

“Well,” I said, taking my cue. I knew when I wasn't wanted. “This has been beyond fun, but I really have to get going.”

Tampa Bay looked relieved, while Cambridge looked confused. “Do you have a place to hide?” she asked.

“Not exactly.” I thought about my options. “I'll see if my sister will pick me up.”

“Doesn't she hate you?” asked Cambridge.

“Yes, but it doesn't hurt to ask.”

Tampa Bay adjusted himself in the booth and tugged at his baseball cap. “Why don't you just go back to Utopia and stop eating so much?”

Why do the most obvious answers sound the least appealing?

Cambridge slid her empty cup to the table's edge. “Before you do anything rash, maybe you should just think about things. Perhaps a little sabbatical from camp might do you well.”

Tampa Bay gripped the tiny fork. “What's there to think about? She should just go back and kick Hollywood in the teeth. Then lose some weight. Am I right, Tabitha?”

Cambridge was silent. As was I.

Tampa Bay pointed out some of Utopia's highlights. “This place is great, and the people are alright. They want to help you achieve your goals.” He had now moved on to our chocolate chip scone. “I mean my counselor, Courtney, he has helped me so much. Two-pointer? I got that. One-on-one? Done. The food sucks, but if you sneak out once in a while, you'll live. And just think how much hotter you'd both be if you dropped thirty or forty pounds.” He zeroed in on Cambridge. “Tabitha, you especially. You'd be smokin' if you lost weight. You must know that. I mean
perfect
.” He wolfed down our scone like an afterthought.

Cambridge ignored him. “I know a place you could hide, Baltimore. A place they'd never look.”

Tampa Bay dropped the fork. “Why are you complicating it? Just. Go. Back. It's perfectly simple.”

Cambridge pulled her hair back and fastened it with a plain rubber band. She had this habit before she did anything requiring strength: swimming, aerobics, getting weighed, eating. Then, to my surprise, she stood up in the booth and stepped over his lap.

“No, it's not,” she spat. Her hands were planted by her sides. “I'm almost as tired of being perfect as I am of being hungry,” she said. “I never wanted to come here in the first place.”

Tampa Bay shredded a napkin into tiny pieces. “Then why did you?” he asked.

Cambridge seemed to consider this. “Good question,” she noted.

“Well go then,” said Tampa Bay, changing tactics. “Go show her the hiding place. But come back, right?” Tampa Bay continued. “Please come back, Cambridge.” He was begging! “I want to see you again. You know, at night. You never even took your bra off with me.”

“Is this about my boobs” asked Cambridge, pointedly.

Tampa Bay shook his head no, which, as I understood it, meant yes. “You are just so worried about everything. Worried about becoming valedictorian. Worried about sneaking out of camp at night. I just want to see you more. ”

Cambridge jumped from the booth and was next to me now. When she turned around to leave, Tampa Bay stood so suddenly that the café workers stared.

“I didn't intend that to be mean,” he whined. He raised his voice a notch. “Just come back later. I don't care about your boobs!”

He said something after that too, but I couldn't hear him. We were already walking toward the door. Cambridge, not even turning around to deliver her golden insult, hissed, “You'll have to remember my ass, Simon, because you ruined any chance of seeing my spectacular breasts.”

From:
[email protected]

To: Bethany Stern

Subject: waiting…

Dear Bethany,

You haven't written me back and I can't say I blame you. I really wish you'd elaborate on your e-mail. I think I've read it a hundred times. I don't understand some of the things you wrote and I'd like to. I know you think I've forgotten all about you, but I haven't.

For example.

I met your mother in speech class at Catonsville Community. When I saw her deliver her two minute impromptu, she was so poised. I was from Catonsville. She was from Pikesville. We were twenty years old and had no shot. Naturally she convinced me otherwise.

After we separated, looking back at the life we had together became painful. I told myself that you & Jackie were better off without me. This assumption was costly and stupid. You don't have to tell me you forgive me or that it's ok. You don't have to tell me anything. But if you did, I would gladly listen. I had no idea you were at a weight loss camp. I don't know who TJ is either.

I will tell you, however, your English teacher was a moron. Spelling is overrated. A good story comes down to voice and character. You've got all that (and then some). Trust me, I'm a librarian. I would know.

Please write me back.

Yours truly,

Dad

28

CARDIO

RIGHT NOW THE campers would be drying off before heading back to the dining hall for rubbery chicken breast with string beans and spray-on butter. Me and Cambridge? We were in the state-of-the-art fitness center located on the other side of campus. I must've missed the speech, but Cambridge told me Miss Marcia had “encouraged” campers to use the facility during their free time. With just one swipe of our Utopia cards, these three levels of cardio equipment, two Olympic-sized indoor pools, and racquetball courts were all ours. Props to Cambridge for the suggestion. It was, as she informed me pushing through the turnstile earlier, counterintuitive.

We settled on the sofa behind the elliptical machines and watched TV. After a few too many dirty looks from the cardio crusaders, Cambridge and I took the elevator to the third floor, parked our butts on some beanbag chairs, and now shared a peanut butter chocolate banana protein smoothie.

Somehow the day had slipped by, and outside the windows the sun crawled down the skyline. “I guess I should be heading back now,” Cambridge said as we both watched, somewhat sadly, the smoothie-maker wash out blenders and sweep the floor. “I wouldn't want to miss my sugar-free popsicle.” I laughed at that, but then realized Cambridge was probably right. It was getting late, and I was sure Miss Marcia or Belinda or Hank had noticed our departure.

“Do you think Tampa Bay said something? You dogged him pretty hard earlier.”

Cambridge leaned back on her beanbag. “Oh, he wouldn't do that.” She looked at me. “You know what? I've never run away before, and it feels kind of good. It's fun.”

She did look relaxed in her squishy chair. She'd even slipped off her shoes. “After your conversation with TJ, I feel bad about leaving you too.”

Even though I wasn't sure, I said, “Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.”

Cambridge picked at her dreads. “Would it be weird if I stayed with you? Just for the night? We can both go back tomorrow and explain everything.”

I shrugged. “Tomorrow's not looking so good either. For me anyway.”

Cambridge flexed her bare feet. “I bet you'll feel differently in the morning. That's how it is. I'll go back to being me. You'll go back to being you. But tonight I want to take a hot shower, eat energy bars, and sleep on one of those dreamy sofas in the cardio room. I don't want anyone to know where I am.” She smiled. “You ever feel like that?”

Did I ever. Still I worried a little. Miss Marcia would notice I was gone, but she might write it off as mortification. She wouldn't push it. But with two of us MIA, it looked bad. Real bad. That in mind, the best thing to do would be to thank Cambridge and send her on her way. Figure out my own sitch. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized how much I enjoyed having her there. Besides, what if I accidentally locked myself in the sauna room? More terrifyingly, what would I do without the smoothies and chocolate chip scones she'd been financing all day? It wasn't like
my
dad had slipped me a few hundreds. Underneath all that, though, I liked her. This girl had seen me at my absolute worst, and she didn't get freaked about it. I guess you could say that an invisible thread had crossed between us—and knotted. In a few short hours, she'd become the best thing to come out of this lousy, no-good, craptastic day. Someone make a note on my file
: I had a friend.

Cambridge took the smoothie and shook it to loosen the bits on the bottom. “So is it OK if I hang out with you just for tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

To celebrate, we ordered a last-call protein smoothie—no banana. We finished off four energy bars before heading down to the locker room, which by six thirty on a Sunday night was deserted. Steam licked our ankles while a whirlpool sloshed in the distance.

I was about to tell Cambridge that if Jackie agreed to come get me, she'd probably be willing to give Cambridge a ride home, at least as far as Baltimore anyway. Only before I offered, a tune startled both of us. I wondered why the gym was clogging the locker room with the theme to
Rocky
, but then I remembered that I'd changed Hollywood's ringtone. We both looked to my bra.

“You should answer it,” said Cambridge, nervously.

I looked at its dazzling blipping lights in my hand. “Camp Utopia,” I offered timidly.

“Oh shut the hell up with your Camp Utopia,” said Liliana. “I knew Cambridge stole that phone. I saw her grab it, that sneaky
culebra
.
¡Dios!
Hollywood's thong is in a bundle: How am I gonna call Papi? Where's my lawyer? You two are in a shit cyclone. I can't even tell you.”

“Hi, Liliana,” I said. “How did you get a phone?”

“My brother tossed his up to me. He can't stop laughing. He says you two got
muchos huevos
!”

“We have big eggs?”

“Balls! Anyway, Miss Marcia is all wondering why you're taking so long at the nurse's office. She's about to put the campus security on your ass.”

“We're thinking of something,” I said, trying to think of something.

“Girl, I already did. I told her the nurse gave you a painkiller for your lip. She thinks you're in here with Cambridge now, all sleeping peacefully. I asked for privacy and she said, ‘of course, of course.' ” I heard muffled noises as she yelled something down to her brother. “But you gotta be back by tomorrow morning,
escuchame
? Hollywood knows something's up. I locked the door to our room.” I pictured Liliana leaning out the window, her butt covered in jewels. I missed her. “And another thing,
putas
, if you're in the neighborhood, stop by and visit.”

Before I hung up, I thanked her for defending me.

“You can thank me with chocolate,
sabes
? Seriously, where are you? Is there candy there? I'll be waiting by my window. Chock. Oh. Lat. Tay. Come now.”

In the end, it looked like Cambridge's wish was fulfilled. We had the night off. Thank God our youngest roommate with the big huevos had covered for us. Cambridge and I watched a few more reruns of
American Envy
before hitting up the vending machine. There, in order to thank Liliana for safeguarding us, we bought her two chocolate chip energy muffins. They were gluten free and made with Splenda, but it was the best we could do, given the circumstances.

29

FAN CLUB

WHEN WE GOT to MontClaire Hall, Liliana's brother, Gabe, was wobbling on his skateboard beneath our dorm's window. We tossed a few beads from Cambridge's hair at him until he saw us. He shook our hands like we were celebrities. “You ladies caused some historical stuff right there.”

“Look at her blushing!” said Cambridge, pointing at me. “But it really was all Bethany's idea.”

We threw the paper bag filled with Liliana's chocolate muffin up to her window, where it thudded back down on the sidewalk. Gabe picked it up and sent it past Liliana's head like a missile. In exchange, she threw down two pairs of underwear and our pajamas.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, digging into the bag, “you never actually went to the nurse?”

I shook my head.

She tore at her muffin like an animal. “Well, Tampa Bay confirmed the story.”

“What story?” I asked.

“The one I made up. He said he saw you in the nurse's office and said you were really hurt. Miss Marcia was sweatin'!”

Cambridge jabbed me with her elbow. “I told you he wouldn't rat us out.”

Liliana whispered hoarsely, “Even Hollywood fell for it. Yuck! This muffin tastes disgusting. Is it diabetic? Did you think I wouldn't notice?” She threw half at it at Gabe. “Did you tell them to get me sugar-free, you bastard?”

“We have been staying at the gym,” I apologized. “It's all they had.”

“The gym?” Gabe laughed hard between us. “Brilliant.”

Hollywood's curtains were drawn, her room dark and silent. Beauty sleeping, no doubt. It was after midnight. Part of me hoped we wouldn't wake her, but another part of me wished we would. That same part of me really wanted to throw a rock at her face. Or a grenade.

Liliana tossed the rest of her muffin in the bushes. “Make sure you guys are back in the morning for our power walk. And please bring me some real chocolate.”

“You can't have real chocolate,” Gabe warned.

“Will you get off my ass?” Liliana pushed a little further out the window. “Hey, Bethany, why don't you show my brother a good time? Introduce him to chocolate and maybe a few other things. He would really like that.
Right
, Gabe?”

“Shut up,
'mana
.”

“What do you say, Bethany?” asked Liliana. “Go show Gabe some things.”