Rumors (2 page)

Samantha was so excited she bounced up and down on her toes. I was glad she was fitting right in, but there was something I wanted to warn her about.

“Can I talk to you for one second?” I reached for her arm and led her down the path a little ways.

“Now what?” she groaned. “My friends are waiting for me.”

I sighed. “I want you to have fun here and everything, but remember one thing, okay? We're only at Camp Pine Haven for a short time. Then we move to the new house.”

It wasn't the first time we'd moved, and it probably wouldn't be the last. I just didn't want Samantha getting all attached to these girls she might never see again.

Samantha's mouth opened in amazement, and her forehead wrinkled up. “What do you mean, a short time? We're here for a whole month!”

“I know. A month sounds like a long time, but it'll go by fast,” I warned her. I wanted to remind her that practically as soon as she made these friends, she'd be saying good-bye to them and starting all over again.

“I'm glad you're meeting some other girls, but …”

“But what?” She glared at me with her dark brown eyes.

What was I supposed to tell her? Don't bother to make friends because we're just passing through? You think these girls are your new best friends, but next year you might not even remember what they look like?

“But don't forget that I'm your sister, and I'm your real best friend,” I said finally. I tried to hug her, but she slipped out of my arms and danced backward a few steps.

“Okay. Whatever!” she said, shaking her head and making her braids bounce. She didn't like it when I got too affectionate with her.

She ran back to Gracie and grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let's go explore the rest of the camp.” And she was off with her new friends without looking back.

I just hoped she wouldn't be too upset when camp
was over. Friends come and go, but family is forever. That was one thing I'd learned from all the times we'd had to move. Maybe Samantha would learn that lesson soon. The sooner she figured that out, the better off she'd be.

I hadn't met one single person yet, and I was fine with that. It wouldn't be hard to go without friends for a month. I could put up with just about anything for a month.

Except maybe an earache and lima beans.

“Since you're new, we'll be happy to help you out. After lights out, it's okay for us to talk to each other as late as we want,” said Boo Bauer.

She was a heavyset girl with blond hair and big round glasses that made her eyes look gigantic. She was sitting on the counselor's bed, telling her all kinds of things about the rules. Our counselor's name was Gloria Mendoza, and at lunch she'd told us it was her first year here at Pine Haven. As soon as she'd said that, Boo had pounced on her like a cat chasing a windup mouse.

“During rest hour, campers don't have to sit on their bunks and be quiet. It's totally fine for us to talk or play cards. Oh, and when counselors go on leave, they're
supposed to bring candy back to their campers. It's a custom we have around here.”

Gloria just smiled at Boo. “Thanks for the help. I think I know the rules, though.” She seemed nice. She had a sweet smile and pretty green eyes, and she'd told us her activity was crafts. Every counselor worked at one particular activity.

“I'm an old camper too,” said Laurel-Ann Humphreys, the girl with braces and her hair in two braids. “You can always ask me if you have any questions. It's hard being new. I know because I remember what it was like last year. There are all kinds of Pine Haven words you need to know, and lots of traditions. And songs. We sing lots of songs. I think that's the worst part about being new—not knowing all the words to the songs, and you're looking around, and—”

“Hyphen, remember sometimes you need to stop talking and take a breath,” Boo told her. “Otherwise you'll pass out.” Laurel-Ann frowned at her and went back to unpacking her trunk.

I'd figured out that Hyphen was Laurel-Ann's nickname because her name had a hyphen in it on her name tag. I had no idea what Boo's real name was, if she even had one. I felt awkward saying her name out loud, like I was trying to sneak up on her and scare her.

“I'll take this empty top bunk, if that's okay with everybody,” offered Shelby Parsons. She was new like me and thin as a rail.

“Good, I hate the top bunk,” said Boo. “You will too when you have to climb down and go to Solitary in the middle of the night.”

The four of us were the Side B girls. The other half of the cabin was for the Side A girls and their counselor. We could hear them over there talking and unpacking too, but a low wooden wall separated the cabin into two open rooms.

I was totally okay with that. Meeting three other girls and my new counselor was about all I could handle at the moment.

It was early in the evening, and we'd spent the afternoon at the lake taking swim tests. But now everyone was in the cabin, unpacking, talking, and getting to know each other.

That is,
they
were talking and getting to know each other. I was just unpacking. They could talk as much as they wanted, as long as they left me alone.

I'd taken the bottom bunk under Shelby, and there was a long shelf beside my bed made out of plain, rough wood for me to put my personal items on. I pulled a plastic bag out of my trunk and took out my shampoo,
conditioner, toothpaste, and deodorant and lined them all up in a neat row.

These cabins were simple, to say the least. That little cabin near the dining hall with the rocking chairs on the porch had looked cozy, but the cabins where all the campers slept weren't much.

I looked at the bare wooden walls. The cabins wouldn't have looked too bad, except for one thing.
People had been signing their names all over, everywhere. I mean,
everywhere
. On the walls, on the wooden boards of the ceiling, on the beams overhead, on the shelves. Some people had even signed the window screens that covered the top part of the front and back walls.

In big black letters. In big white letters. I could hardly see an inch of bare wall that didn't have a name on it somewhere. And the dates—I couldn't believe how old they were! holt & BOBO 1974. Now that was old. I glanced around at the ceiling and wondered if this whole cabin would topple over at any minute. You just never knew.

“Why don't you put your pillow down on that end?” Boo told Laurel-Ann. They both had single cots next to each other.

“Why? What does it matter?” asked Laurel-Ann, pulling a purple blanket out of her trunk.

“Because I put my pillow at the other end, and that way, our cots will be head to toe instead of head to head. I don't want to smell your breath all night. Plus, you're less likely to try to carry on a conversation with my feet.”

“Well, okay, but it's going to feel weird for me to sleep with my head pointing out toward the middle of the cabin,” Laurel-Ann started off, and then she went on and on about what direction her bed at home faced.

I really wished I could stick some cotton balls in my ears so I wouldn't have to listen to everyone.

It was a waste for me to even be here. Instead of unpacking my trunk here, I could be at our old house right now. Even though movers were coming soon to load up the moving van, there was still so much work to do. Mama and Daddy were busy packing boxes and sorting through closets and drawers for things to keep or give away. I could be helping with all that.

I took out a stack of pink towels and put them on one end of my shelf. Then I pulled out a box of blank note cards. I'd promised my friends I'd write them, but I wasn't sure how good I would be about keeping that promise. Next I unpacked a few framed photos I'd brought along of my family. Just looking at my parents' smiling faces made me miss them.

This was our third move, and Samantha and I had always been around to help out with everything. But this time was going to be different. “A real headache,” Daddy had called it. We had to be moved out of our old house by a certain date, but we couldn't move into our new house for another twelve days. So that meant twelve days of being stuck in the middle, between two different houses in two different states.

Plus there was the really long drive from Baltimore to Tampa. Then they'd be staying in a hotel for almost two weeks. They just didn't want to put us through all that. So off we went to Pine Haven instead.

I was kneeling in front of my open trunk, sorting through my clothes. I pulled out four new pairs of shorts and tugged on the plastic strings of the price tags until they snapped. Then I did the same thing with the tags on my new shirts. Some of them still had those little size stickers stuck to them. By the time I was finished, there was a small pile of trash on the floor. I scooped it up and carried it to the trash can.

“Wow. All new clothes. I've never seen anyone bring all new clothes to camp before,” said Boo. I turned around and saw that she was staring into my open trunk.

I didn't know what I was supposed to say to that, so
I didn't say anything. Now Laurel-Ann and Shelby had stopped what they were doing to watch me too.

What did they care if I brought new clothes, old clothes, or plastic trash bags to wear? If I wanted to wear a grass skirt and dance a hula with a pineapple on top of my head, was it any of their business?

“Are you rich or something?” asked Boo from where she sat on her cot, staring at me with her magnified eyes.

What kind of question was that to ask someone?

“No.”

“You got some nice clothes. All designer brands, too,” she went on. Shelby and Laurel-Ann couldn't take their eyes off us either.

“Thank you,” I said. What else was I supposed to say?

It just so happened that I didn't have a lot of regular clothes, since I had to wear a uniform at my old school. And when I'd started packing for camp, I realized that none of my clothes from last summer fit me anymore. I grew three inches this year.

So Mama had taken Samantha and me on this crazy, last-minute shopping trip yesterday afternoon. I was lucky I had any clothes at all to wear. I easily could've showed up with nothing to wear but some plastic trash bags. Either that or a couple of plaid jumpers and white
shirts. I hoped the girls in Samantha's cabin weren't giving her a hard time right now over her new wardrobe.

“Is that your mom? Oh my gosh, she is so pretty!” Laurel-Ann exclaimed. She was leaning down and staring at the pictures on my shelf.

I wondered what else these girls were going to do to invade my privacy. Maybe Shelby would ask me what color undies I'd brought along.

“Yes, that's my mom,” I said.

Laurel-Ann picked up the photo of Mama and stood there breathing on it. Could she even see the picture anymore through the fog she was leaving on the glass? “She looks like a movie star! Is she a model or something?”

“No.”

That photo was one of Mama's professional head shots, and it wasn't an exaggeration—she did look like a model in it. Her curly black hair had been perfectly styled, and she had on silver loop earrings and a silver necklace that sparkled in the light. The rose-colored eye shadow and lipstick looked fabulous against her smooth brown complexion. It was my favorite picture of her.

“She could be a model, though. What does she do?” asked Laurel-Ann, handing my picture over to Boo so she could give it her own detailed inspection.

“She works at a TV station,” I said. I clasped both hands behind my back, because that was the only way I could keep from snatching my picture back and rubbing it down with a towel to get all their fingerprints and foggy breath off it.

“Really?” Boo's jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Doing what?”

“It's kind of hard to explain,” I said.

Actually, it wasn't hard to explain at all. All of her jobs have been in broadcast journalism, so basically she did the news. On TV. She'd started off as a feature reporter in the beginning, but her new job was going to be weekend anchor. So it was kind of a big deal. This move was really great for her career.

Boo was staring at me. “What's so hard to explain? Is she on TV or not?”

Should I just tell them? It would sound like I was bragging.
Oh, my mom's on television
. I glanced at Gloria, hoping she'd tell them to mind their own business.

“Why don't you give Kayla the picture back?” she suggested. Three sets of eyes watched me as I casually put it back on the shelf. I'd wipe their fingerprints off later.

It could be worse. I could've ended up with a top bunk like Shelby. Boo could be identical twins. Laurel-Ann
could've dropped Mama's picture and broken the glass. And I might've cut my hand, and then maybe I would get an infection. At least I wasn't sleeping in a top bunk with an infected cut while two identical Boos asked me twice as many questions every time I had to climb down to go to a bathroom called Solitary.