Five Summers (22 page)

EMMA STOOD AT THE BELGIAN WAFFLE STATION sipping her Styrofoam cup of weak coffee and hating pretty much everyone. She had been doing okay, all things considered, when she’d left the cabin, having successfully avoided making eye contact with either Maddie or Skylar, but as consciousness washed over her in the harsh morning sunlight, a new wave of nauseating rage came rolling in. She still felt hurt and horribly betrayed, but it felt better—more productive—to focus on the anger now, and the rising steam from the waffle iron just helped to set the mood.

She was angry at Adam for being such a generally sucky and selfish person and terrible non-boyfriend-slash-ex-friend. She was angry at Skylar for being so thoughtless and dishonest. She was angry at Jo for telling her what she sort of suspected but didn’t want to know and she was angry (even though she knew it was irrational) at Maddie for having a personal crisis that stole focus from her own. She was also angry at the waffle maker for taking so long and for dripping the batter out onto the tablecloth even though Emma had poured in exactly the right amount using the provided measuring cup and at the coffee for being so thoroughly crappy and unsatisfying. Mostly, though, she was angry that she didn’t have anyone to take her anger out on. So when Adam finally showed up, it was almost a relief.

He was alone and freshly showered, and seeing his wet hair combed back reminded Emma of the previous day’s water sports. Now, his little speech about how Skylar had grown so attached to him and was projecting her longing for closeness with Emma onto him struck her as possibly the most supremely douchey thing anyone had ever said. How had he been able to feed her those lines with a straight face?

If Adam saw Emma seething quietly by the waffle station, he didn’t react. Instead, he just waved to someone across the cafeteria, plucked a cup from the stack near the coffee urn, and started fiddling with the knobs.

Finally, the waffle iron beeped and Emma turned the handle to release the asymmetrical but delicious-smelling contents. She doused it liberally in maple syrup and even added a fat curlicue of whipped cream. Having a healthy sense of irony, she was overjoyed that the kitchen workers had set out a bowl of maraschino cherries. She set one on top of the waffle with a satisfying feeling of schadenfreude. And then, as she balanced her plate in one hand and crossed the room to where Adam was standing, Emma saw Skylar and Maddie waiting in line at the buffet table separately, but both staring at Adam, too.

Things were about to get interesting.

“Hi,” she said, startling Adam as he continued to fail at pouring himself a cup of coffee. Adam startled and flipped on the switch, sending hot decaf splattering onto his flip-flop clad feet. He cursed and jumped back. People looked over. Emma saw Maddie smirk.

“Hey,” he said, avoiding her eyes and wiping at his legs with a napkin. “Um, good morning.”

“Actually, it’s not such a good morning for me,” she said, stretching her lips into a thin smile. Adam finally managed to get his cup under the spigot and fill it. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?” she said.

“I, uh, I ran into Jo.” he muttered.

“Oh, good,” Emma said loudly. “So you’re caught up. So you already know that last night a bunch of your friends came into our bunk, yelled at us, took our clothes, and stacked them on the diving board. Right?” He looked down at his coffee. “And that after that was over, I found out that you’ve been hooking up with my best friend for the past three years, ever since the night I refused to kiss you.”

“Emma,” he said, keeping his voice so low it was barely audible. “I know you’re upset. And believe me, I want to explain. I know I owe that to you, but can we not do this right here?”

“Where would you like to do it?” she asked.

“Um . . . outside?”

“Great idea,” she said. “Follow me.” She walked past Adam, shoving her waffle into his chest with as much force as she could muster from such close range. The only flaw in the execution was that she didn’t get to see his face right after it happened. But the people in the buffet line did.

As she pushed through the double doors, she heard Maddie start to slow clap.

“I guess today is a two-shower day,” Adam said as he emerged behind her, his shirt wet and still streaked with syrup. Emma was waiting on the lawn out front, sitting cross-legged and picking idly at grass.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually come out,” she said.

“I didn’t really have anywhere to go.”

“There’s the back exit.”

“Come on, I’m not a total coward.”

Emma crossed her arms. “Then where were you last night?”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. He kept a distance of about two yards and stayed on his feet—the better, Emma thought wryly, to dodge additional carbohydrate attacks.

“That’s not an answer,” she said. Adam just squinted into the sun, looking like he’d rather be somewhere—maybe anywhere—else.

“You know, I was fine before I came back here,” Emma went on. “I wasn’t looking for anything to happen this weekend. But then we hit it off again, and . . . I’m just trying to understand why you would go after me if you didn’t actually want me.”

“I did want you,” he said, without moving.

“But not anymore?”

He looked flustered. “No, I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t say
anything
,” she said, standing up, her voice getting strong and angry. “Nothing real, anyway. You want to know why no one ‘gets’ you, Adam? Because there’s nothing to get. You’re just as superficial as you pretend you are!”

He looked down at his feet, and Emma felt her anger surge again. Not only had he hurt her and hurt Skylar, but he’d tried to come between them—knowingly. He didn’t care about either of them. He only cared about himself.

“Do you even know what you want?” she asked. What she meant, really, was
who
he wanted. But she realized that if she let him choose, like they were two toys on a shelf, she would just be playing into his already massive ego. And she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Adam looked at her as if he was formulating actual words that might one day work their way through his lips and out of his mouth when Skylar pushed through the doors of the cafeteria clutching a cup of coffee. She stopped when she saw them, and something that looked like fear flickered across her face.

“You know what?” Emma said. “You don’t have to know. You can have each other. I’m done.”

She turned and walked back toward the main path, focusing her eyes on the ground in front of her. This time, she was determined not to run.

“HOLD STILL.”

Emma stood behind Skylar, delicately holding a sticky, tangled strand of her long blond hair. She didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to pull on it a little to see what she was dealing with. Under the bright lights of the empty shower room, she examined the thick wad of purple gum that had been embedded in the hair three inches from Skylar’s scalp.

“Okay,” Emma said, holding out a hand like she was a doctor asking for a scalpel. “Give me the peanut butter.”

It had happened after lunch, when they were dropping off their trays. Skylar and Emma had been standing in front of Mark and Matt, who were taking turns burping letters of the alphabet. It made the lasagna in Emma’s stomach lurch.

“That is so gross,” Skylar had said.

“You’re gross,” Mark had shot back, taking a deep breath and then repeating it in a long belch. “
Groooooooooosssssssss.
”

“Yeah, but there’s two of you so you’re twice as gross,” Skylar had laughed. And that’s when Matt had planted his gum.

They’d already tried ice (Jo’s idea), Vaseline (Maddie’s), and olive oil (Skylar’s). It looked like someone had cooked an omelet on Skylar’s head and then covered it in kindergarten paste. Luckily there were no mirrors around.

“How bad is it?” Skylar asked.

“Pretty bad,” Jo said, peering over Emma’s shoulder.

“It’s not
that
bad,” Maddie said. Skylar reached her hand up to feel.

“Don’t touch it! You’ll just make it worse.” Emma looked at the butterscotch-colored snarl and tried to figure out how to start. She only knew about the peanut butter trick because she’d seen her mom take gum out of her brother Kyle’s hair once. She decided not to tell Skylar that Kyle had ended up with a crew cut.

“I wasn’t sure if I should get chunky or smooth,” Jo said. “So I got both. And some Reese’s peanut butter cups, just for snacking.”

“I think we should go with smooth,” Maddie said.

“Definitely,” Emma said. Jo unscrewed the lid from the jar and Emma dipped her pointer finger in, coming up with a scoop the size of a quarter.

“Are you sure this will work?” Skylar asked.

“No,” Emma said. “But it’s our last chance.”

“I smell like a compost pile!” she cried. Emma smeared the peanut butter onto the gum and started to knead it with her fingers.

“My mom says boys only tease you if they like you,” Maddie said encouragingly.

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Skylar moaned.

As she worked, Emma tried not to smile. But Skylar always seemed so cool and confident, seeing her pitch a fit was kind of funny. Emma wondered if that made her a bad friend.

“Okay,” she said. “Comb, please.”

The gum had gotten stiffer and less sticky, but it didn’t budge when Emma dragged the plastic comb through the knot.

“Ow!” Skylar yelled.

“
Sorry
!”

“Maybe you should pull harder,” Jo suggested, biting into a Reese’s cup.

“No,” Skylar said. “Don’t do that.”

Emma worked for a few more minutes, even letting Maddie have a try, before declaring the experiment a failure.

“I’m sorry,” she told Skylar. “I did everything I could.”

“So what now?” Skylar sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “We can’t just leave it in there.”

“I think,” Maddie said gravely, “we’re going to have to operate.”

Maddie had experience cutting her little sisters’ hair back home, so she did the honors while Emma and Jo held Skylar’s hands, offered her candy, and assured her that she was going to look fine. Emma wasn’t really all that sure—not all girls could pull off short hair, even the pretty ones—but she tried not to show it.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jo said. “This won’t change it.”

Skylar squeezed her eyes shut as the scissors snapped shut and the gum fell to the floor in a tangle of golden hair.

“I could give you a mullet if you want to go emo,” Maddie said. “Then the back would still be long.”

Skylar grimaced. “Now you’re just trying to make me look bad.” She looked at Emma and squeezed her hand. “Everyone’s going to look at me, Em,” she said quietly. “They’re going to laugh.”

“No, they won’t.”

“The boys will. Especially the twins.”

Emma knew that she was right. The boys would never let her live it down and would make fun of her every chance they got. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Can I have the scissors?” she asked Maddie.

“You want to try? Be my guest.” Maddie handed her the nail scissors—which they’d borrowed under false pretenses from their counselor, Beth—and stepped back.

Emma smiled at Skylar as she brought the scissors up and snipped off a huge chunk of her own hair.

“Emma!” Skylar cried, her hands flying up to her mouth.

“What?” Emma asked innocently. “Is there something on my face?” She handed the scissors back to Maddie. “I guess I’ll need a haircut, too,” she said.

Maddie grinned. “Mine’s a pain in the ass in summer anyway,” she said, clipping off a handful of her auburn curls.

“You guys are nuts,” Jo laughed, clutching her long black ponytail protectively.

“Come on,” Emma said. “All the pro athletes shave their heads. It cuts down on wind resistance.” She wasn’t sure that was actually true, but it seemed to make Jo happy.

“Okay,” she decided. “But just because I don’t want to be left out.”

By the time they were done, the shower looked like a petting zoo, and the girls moved over to the sinks to admire their handiwork. Emma almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back at her in the mirror. The choppy bob Skylar had given her didn’t look half bad—it actually made her look a little older, she thought, and more stylish.

“Wow,” Skylar said, meeting Emma’s eyes in the mirror and giving her a grateful smile. “I thought we were twins, but it turns out we’re quadruplets!”

Emma nodded, and looked down the line at the faces of her friends, which all looked new without so much hair. They looked different than they had before, but anyone could see that they belonged together.