How to (Almost) Ruin Your Summer (5 page)

Open Personal Mail in a Public Area

Before lunch Monday, Director Mudwimple called me to her office.

She motioned for me to sit when I came in. “Miss McCorkle, we seem to have a problem.” She picked up a pink paper and turned it around for me to read. The words
Disciplinary Action Report
were typed bold-faced across the top. “A kitchen aide reported seeing you clang trash can lids together, scaring poor King Arthur half out of his wits this morning.” She pushed her glasses to the top of her head and scowled. “What do you have to say in regards to that?”

I swallowed and cleared my throat. “In my defense, he was clearly more than half out of his wits already. I probably just scared what was left.”

She stared at me. “You're not helping your case, young lady. We take our responsibility for the animals very seriously, and showing cruelty to them is something I
will not
tolerate at Camp Minnehaha.”

“Yes, ma'am—I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be cruel.”

“You have one demerit. Try not to get any more.” She stood and reached for her glasses on her head. “You're dismissed for lunch.”

I ate lunch and acted as though I wasn't the kid who got the first demerit at camp. Demerits weren't for people like me—I was a good kid. If word got out, everyone would think I was a troublemaker. My lips were sealed—I wasn't about to even tell Pogo. Plus, Director Mudwimple didn't seem to know Pogo was there. It was entirely that stupid goat's fault—he'd better not show his face to me again or trash can lids would be the least of his problems.

During dessert, Director Mudwimple stood on the stage to holler out announcements. Free time until 2:00 p.m. Cherokee won cleanest cabin award. Whoever took the
M
off the welcome sign needed to return it—enough letters were already missing, thank you very much. Then, Director Mudwimple called me forward to pick up a shoebox-sized care package from Mom and Dad.

I grabbed my box and scurried back to the table where Pogo, Sebastian, and Nathan sat.

“How did you get a care package already?” Pogo asked. “It's only the first day of camp.”

“I don't know.” I tore off the brown paper and let the shreds fall to my feet. “Mom must have overnighted it.” She was the best.

I took the lid off to see what treasures the box held.

Nathan snorted.

Sebastian leaned in for a closer look. “
¿Que es eso
?
”

Mr. Snuffles stared up at me with his mismatched eyes—I swear, he was grinning.

Nooooooo!

I snatched the note that lay on top and fumbled to replace the lid as fast as possible before anyone else could see.

Dear Chloe,

We hope you're having a fun time at camp. We miss you already. Here are some M&M's and Skittles. I also have enclosed $10 for you to spend at the camp store—don't spend it all on soda! I thought you might need some more sunscreen, so I added that, plus a photo of you, Dad, and me.

Love,

Mom

PS When we got back from dropping you off, I noticed you forgot to pack Mr. Snuffles. I know you sleep with him every night, and I'm sure you're missing him. I'm so glad I found him under the pillow in your room. Surprise! Here he is!

Victoria walked up from behind Nathan. “Well, well, look who got a care package from Mommy and Daddy.”

With a swift flick of a finger, she popped the lid off and peered into the box.

“OMG,” she squealed, yanking Mr. Snuffles out of the box and holding him up for all the mess hall to see. “It's so nasty!” She laughed and waved him around. Snickers and giggling filled the air around me.

“Give it back, Victoria.” I snatched him away and shoved him in the box, then slammed the lid down.

Victoria draped her arm around my shoulder. “You know, baby Chloe, if you want a nice stuffed animal that doesn't smell, you can borrow my Zoo 'n' You. All you need to do is ask.”

More kids laughed. Thankfully, Pogo wasn't one of them.

I pushed Victoria's arm off me. “And take away your only friend?”

Pogo laughed this time.

“Ouch,” Nathan said.

Victoria's eyes narrowed. She turned on her heel and walked away.

Heat raced up my neck. I wanted to crawl under a table and stay there. I shoved Mom and Dad's card inside the box and snatched up the trash on the floor.

“I'm headed back to the cabin,” I said.

Pogo bounded up to the trash cans with me. “I'll come with you—you cool with that?”

I nodded but stayed quiet until we reached our cabin.

I tossed the box on the bed and Mr. Snuffles bounced out as it dumped over. “I left him home on purpose,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Why?” Pogo picked him up.

“Because of people like Victoria.”

“He's cute—and you've obviously had him for a long time.”

I hung my head. “I didn't want anyone making fun of me or thinking I was a baby.”

“Victoria has her dumb Zoo 'n' You—and so do Anna and Marcie. No one thinks they're babies.”

“That's different. Zoo 'n' Yous are really popular. It's okay to have them.”

Pogo looked sympathetic. “I get it. I wanted to bring my favorite blanket, but my dad wouldn't let me. He said it might get lost or something.” She held Mr. Snuffles out to me.

I took him and looked at his worn-out condition. “Yeah. My grandpa gave Mr. Snuffles to me when I was little. Mr. Snuffles reminds me of him.” I hugged the stuffed animal. “Grandpa died a couple years ago.”

“My mom died when I was seven, so I totally get what you mean. Dad gave me her jewelry box and it's my favorite thing in the whole world.”

“Your mom died?” I'd never met anyone who had a parent who had died. I wasn't sure what to say. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” She shrugged. “Things were really hard at first, and they still are at times, but I do the best I can with it. It can be a bummer when there's stuff at school like mother-daughter events, but my dad comes to those.” She gave a small laugh. “Last year, my school had a Mother's Day tea and everyone was with their moms, and there was my dad, sipping tea and eating a scone with me.”

“Were you embarrassed?”

“I stopped caring what people thought about my dad a long time ago.” She was silent for a moment. “Dad once told me there are two types of opinions in the world—the ones that matter, and the ones that don't. And if I spend my time worrying about the stuff that isn't important, then I'll miss seeing what really is.”

I traced around Mr. Snuffles's mismatched eyes with my finger. “I don't mind standing out from a crowd if it's for a good reason—something totally crazy like if I saved someone's life or something, but generally speaking, I'd rather blend in. I'm not saying I'll jump off a cliff if everyone else does, but I just prefer to play it safe.” I unzipped my sleeping bag and shoved Mr. Snuffles to the bottom. “I'll bring him out at night.”

Pogo shrugged. “It's your call, but I wouldn't feel ashamed of someone or something you love just because of Victoria.” She glanced at Victoria's bunk. “Personally, I think she has issues.”

I knew Victoria's type. People like her had the power to make my life miserable—whether I was at camp or in middle school. I might as well paint a target on my back that said
Dork—publicly humiliate me.
The best thing to do was lay low and not draw attention to myself.

Easier said than done.

Monday, June 14

8:56 p.m.

WORST DAY EVER!!!

Victoria made Pogo and me clean the bathroom, since we didn't want her to be cabin captain (she was voted captain anyway
). That's how a spider ended up on Victoria. How was I supposed to know it was going to fall on her head while she was in the shower? Guess I just got lucky.

Mom thought I left Mr. Snuffles at home on accident—which I DID NOT—and she mailed him to me! Victoria waved him all around the mess hall, and now a bunch of Victoria wannabes are calling me a baby.

Pogo says not to worry about Victoria, but I DON'T want people to think I'm a dumb little baby. I gave Pogo the Skittles that were in my care package—a way to say thanks for being my friend and NOT making me feel stupid.

I found out today that Pogo's mom died when she was seven. I don't know what I would do if my mom or dad ever died. Pogo said she and her dad build all kinds of stuff in their garage—weird, right?!?!

Today at lunch, we were talking about all the electives. Pogo really wants to do science, but I pointed out that hardly any other girls are doing that one. She just shrugged and said that was fine. Not me! She doesn't seem to get bothered by things like that or people like Victoria—I guess that's what happens when you lose a parent. You just stop caring about what others think about you.

I got revenge on King Arthur for ramming me into the dirt yesterday. I made him faint, and he somersaulted down Mess Hall Hill—which is practically the Grand Canyon. I'm glad he's okay though. At least he didn't roll down the part that turns into the ravine. ROGL (Rolling On the Grass Laughing). Pogo and I swore each other to secrecy but Director Mudwimple found out about it anyway—now I have a demerit!!! I WON'T be getting more, that's for sure!

I saw Doc Mulholland holding Ms. Jacqueline's hand during free time! They were taking a walk. I told Pogo about it, but she still isn't convinced he has a crush on her. I don't know what it would take to convince her—a wedding?!

Oh, and some girl named Rory got the Distinction of Recognized Kindness for helping one of her friends learn how to swim. I guess that's pretty nice.

Throw a Chicken

Victoria thought it was great fun to do elephant impersonations with her arms whenever she saw me. She must have figured out I kept Mr. Snuffles hidden in my sleeping bag because during cabin cleanup, she made a big deal about accidentally throwing him away because she thought he was a rag. Good thing Pogo was there to hold me back from taking Victoria's custom shower gel and squirting it all over her face.

I decided the best way to keep Mr. Snuffles safe was to keep him with me. I emptied my messenger bag of my toiletries and hairbrush and stuffed Mr. Snuffles and a water bottle inside. I slung it across my body, and we headed to our first elective of the day—sports.

As we approached the playing fields, Coach Fox glanced at his watch. I guess we were late because Nathan and Sebastian's cabin was already throwing Frisbees back and forth on what looked like a football field, just a tad smaller. I dropped my satchel near the bleachers.

“Line up for roll call,” hollered Coach Fox. “Dakota cabin stand here and Kalaqua there. When I call your name, grab either a red or yellow jersey, and jog to center field.” He grabbed his clipboard. At least it wasn't going to be boys against girls. Maybe I would even get on the same team as Nathan.

“Carl Jamison, red team. Marcie Asher, yellow team. Nathan Maddux.” He looked up. “How 'bout I call you Mad Dog?”

“That's cool,” Nathan said. “Which team?”

“Red.” He checked his clipboard again. “Leslie Santamaria, yellow. Victoria Radamoskovich—” Coach Fox stopped. “Radamoskovich?”

Victoria exhaled loudly. “Yes?”

“Any relation to JT Radamoskovich?”

She looked like she wanted to say no.

“He's her brother,” Charlotte offered.

Victoria growled.

“Cool,” some kid from the Kalaqua cabin said. “Could you get me his autograph?”

Victoria whirled around, teeth bared, and was about to launch an attack on the poor kid when Coach Fox sidled up next to her, seemingly oblivious to the fact she wanted nothing more than to maul a fellow camper.

“Well, isn't that something?” Coach Fox said. “He's got the best arm I've seen on a quarterback in a long time. Your team will be lucky to have you today—you're on red.”

Victoria gave him a smile that I'm sure translated to
I hope you choke on your whistle
. She yanked a jersey over her head and stomped out to center field.

Nathan and I ended up on different teams—major bummer. At least Pogo and I were on the same team.

The game Coach Fox had picked for us was Ultimate Frisbee. I'd never played before, but Coach Fox said it was basically football with a Frisbee, minus the tackling, and once you held the Frisbee, you couldn't move, except to throw it to a teammate.

By halftime, Nathan's team was beating ours six to three, but it was a seriously fun game. I grabbed my water bottle and joined Pogo on the bleachers.

Victoria sashayed by, talking to Anna. “Let's go sit in the shade. I don't want to end up looking like frizzy-haired, red-faced Chloe.”

I reached back and touched my hair. All the running around had loosened my ponytail. Curls sprogged in every direction. I wondered if Nathan noticed my frizzy hair and red face. I ran my fingers through the tangled mess. It was a lost cause. Time for a new strategy: don't run so fast. At least that might keep my face from looking like a big, fat tomato.

I spent most of the second half listening to Coach Fox holler at me to hustle and get moving. I'm pretty sure the only reason he wasn't hollering the same thing at Victoria was because of her brother. We didn't score any points during the second half, and Nathan's team creamed us 10–3.

I picked up my satchel, made sure Mr. Snuffles was safe, and then checked my schedule.

“Where y'all fixing to go next?” Nathan said, walking up to me.

“The barn.”

Standing a few feet behind him, Victoria brushed out her long hair. She didn't have a drop of sweat on her. Not fair.

“Have fun,” he said. “We'll catch y'all at lunch, right?”

“Yeah. Good game, by the way,” I said.

Victoria bent forward and then flipped her head back, her hair followed in a gorgeous arc and landed smoothly down her back.

Nathan nodded. “Back at ya. What was up with you slowing down the second half?” he said.

“Guess I got tired,” I said.

I dropped the satchel and tried the same move as Victoria, bending over and throwing my head back.

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked.

My hair was about as opposite as you could get from Victoria's. I probably looked pretty ridiculous, and I think I pinched a nerve in my neck.

“Yeah—I thought there was a bee. That's all.” I grabbed my satchel and walked away before I did anything else stupid.
Note to self—next time, skip the neck injury and simply write MORON across your forehead—it's faster, less painful, and just as effective.

“See ya at lunch,” I called over my shoulder.

• • •

Doc Mulholland said we were going to take the horses out on a trail ride. Pogo squealed. I still wasn't sure which horse was Road Rage, but luckily, Doc picked out Sunset for me. She was a beautiful, chestnut-red color, and he reassured me she was “sweet as a Pixy Stick.” I searched out the perfect place to hide my satchel. Three large, wooden barrels were stacked on top of each other near Sunset's stall. The top barrel was probably close to fifteen feet in the air.

Perfect.

Hay bales against the wall created a somewhat squishy, unstable staircase, but I made it to the top. I tossed the satchel onto the top barrel and climbed down, almost landing on Victoria.

“Watch what you're doing!” she barked. She looked at the hay bales and barrels. “What were you doing up there?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Fine. Don't tell me. It's not like I care about you or anything you do.” She shrugged and walked away.

I waited until she went around the corner by the tack room and then headed outside to find Sunset.

Doc stood holding the reins of a dark brown horse. “This handsome guy is Chester. For those of you who've never ridden before, Chester and I are going to show you how to get into the saddle.” He moved to the left side of his horse and transferred the reins to his left hand. “While still holding on to the reins, put your left foot into the stirrup, grab the saddle, and swing up and into the seat.”

I'd never mounted a horse before and figured I was in for trouble. I was right. Despite the fact that Sunset stood perfectly still, it would've been easier to climb on top of a rampaging gorilla. It was a struggle getting my left foot into the stirrup, let alone getting my body to face the right direction in the saddle.

Ten minutes later, we were all lined up and Doc did a final stirrup check to make sure they were at the right length for everyone. One horse, Daisy, stood patiently without her rider.

“Where's Victoria?” Doc said, looking around.

Victoria sauntered over from the barn. “Sorry, Doc,” she said. “I had to visit the bathroom first.”

“Mount up and we'll get started.”

Victoria was so graceful, she practically floated up to the saddle. She turned her head my way and smiled slyly. Show-off.

It was taking all of my concentration to stay upright on Sunset—and we hadn't even started the ride. I didn't have the energy to put up with her high horse attitude.

Doc quickly showed us how to steer with the reins and our legs. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride. These horses have the trail memorized and they stick to it,” Doc said, adding under his breath, “except for maybe Road Rage.”

The trail ride took us about an hour to complete, which was about an hour too long. My rear end was sore and getting off my horse as quickly as possible was the only thing on my mind as we came within sight of the barn.

I got Sunset back to her stall and went to brush her down when my heart lurched inside my chest.

At the barn's entrance, Mr. Snuffles swung back and forth like a wrecking ball as King Arthur gnawed away at him.

“No!” I picked up a stick and flung it at King Arthur. It smacked him on the rump, but it wasn't enough to stop him from devouring the elephant. I sprinted, grabbing the closest thing to throw—a chicken. I wadded up the mass of feathers the best I could and hurled it with such ferocity that even JT Radamoskovich would have been impressed. King Arthur took one look at the ball of angry feathers speeding toward him, dropped Mr. Snuffles, and bolted down a path. The indignant chicken clucked and walked away.

My precious elephant lay in the dirt. Part of his trunk and head, along with some of his torso, were gone. I held him close as tears pooled in my eyes. I felt foolish for crying over a stuffed animal, but I couldn't help myself.

Pogo knelt next to me and draped her arm over my shoulder. “Oh, Chloe, I'm so sorry. Maybe we can fix him?”

“Or maybe you could put it out of its misery and toss it in the trash.” Victoria stood near the entrance, holding Daisy by the reins.

“Go away,” Pogo said.

“Guess that wasn't the greatest hiding spot,” Victoria said, not even trying to hide her smirk. “Goats are so intelligent, you know. And they're very good climbers.” She moseyed down the barn corridor and put Daisy back in her stall.

Wednesday, June 16

9:21 p.m.

WORST DAY EVER—(much worse than Monday)!!!

A Ziploc bag is all that is keeping Mr. Snuffles together—I hate that goat. Mr. Snuffles was all I had left from my grandpa. I have NO DOUBT that Victoria let King Arthur out of his stall and fed him Mr. Snuffles! I hate her as much as I hate King Arthur.

I spent all afternoon crying—at least when Victoria wasn't around. It's not that I care A LOT (just a little) about what she thinks, but I know she'll only make my life more miserable if she sees me upset. Popular kids like her are like that.
Nath
n
seemed clueless to the fact that I didn't eat anything at dinner and was sad. He's a good friend, but he can be pretty oblivious at times. I guess it's good he didn't notice I'd been crying—he might think I'm a crybaby.

Pogo said Mr. Snuffles can be repaired, but I know that no amount of stuffing or stitching will be able to put him back the way he was.

A boy from the Seneca cabin, Miguel Fernandez, got the kindness award tonight. At least someone was happy. Coach Fox said it was for picking up a bunch of trash that had been blown around from a fallen trash can.