Page 24

“Great,” I said.
It was a lie. The cabin was too stuffy, too quiet. I missed air-conditioning and the sounds of Manhattan—all those irritated car horns and wailing sirens in the distance. At Camp Nightingale, there was nothing but bug noise and the lake lapping against the shore. I assumed I’d get used to it.
“Thank God you don’t snore, Em,” Vivian said. “We had a snorer last year. Sounded like a dying cow.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” said Natalie. On her tray sat two servings of bacon and the syrupy remains of flapjacks. She bit into a bacon slice, chewing and talking at the same time. “You’re just being mean because you don’t like her anymore.”
Already, I had noticed the weird dynamic between the three of them. Vivian was the ringleader. Obviously. Natalie, athletic and a little bit gruff, was the resistance. Pretty, subdued Allison was the peacekeeper, a role she assumed that very morning.
“Tell us about yourself, Emma,” she said. “You don’t go to our school, right?”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Vivian replied. “We’d know if she did. Half our school goes here.”
“I go to Douglas Academy,” I said.
Allison stabbed a chunk of melon, lifted it to her lips, put it back down. “Do you like it there?”
“It’s nice, I guess. For an all-girls school.”
“Ours is, too,” Vivian said. “And I’d honestly kill to spend a summer away from some of these sluts.”
“Why?” Natalie asked. “You pretend half of them don’t exist when we’re here.”
“Just like I’m pretending right now that you’re not stuffing your face with bacon,” Vivian shot back. “Keep eating like that and next year it’ll be fat camp for you.”
Natalie sighed and dropped the half-eaten bacon onto her plate. “You want any, Allison?”
Allison shook her head and pushed away her barely touched bowl of fruit. “I’m stuffed.”
“I was just joking,” Vivian said, looking genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry, Nat. Really. You look... fine.”
She smiled then, the word lingering like the insult it really was.
I spent the rest of the meal eyeing Vivian’s plate, taking a bite of oatmeal only when she did, trying to make the portions match up exactly. I didn’t touch the banana until she did. When she left half of it on her tray, I did the same. The bacon and toast remained untouched.
I told myself it would be worth it.
—
Vivian, Natalie, and Allison left the mess hall before me, preparing for an advanced archery lesson. Senior campers only. I was scheduled to take part in an activity with girls my own age. I assumed I’d find them boring. That’s what one night in Dogwood had already done to me.
On my way there, I passed the girl with the camera. She veered into my path, halting me.
“What are you doing?”
“Warning you,” she said. “About Vivian.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t be fooled. She’ll turn on you eventually.”
I took a step toward her, trying to match the same toughness I had summoned the previous night. “How so?”
Although the girl with the camera smiled, there was no humor there. It was a bitter grin. On the cusp of curdling into a sneer.
“You’ll find out,” she said.
8