Keeping Her Secret (5 page)

Courtney shook her head, recognizing her own crazy. Eavesdropping on girls she didn’t give a rat’s ass about. She was supposed to be ignoring Riya, not covertly listening to her inane conversations.

She squeezed a large glop of conditioner into her palm and began to work it through her strands. A strange, almost sour smell filled the air around her. Courtney froze mid-stroke. She stepped back from the stream of water, sniffing it. Just a slight metallic smell, like usual.

But when she turned to inspect the shower stall, the scent increased. Slowly, she raised her hands to her face. Conditioner coated her hands in uneven splotches. She inhaled.

And gagged.

Mayonnaise.

Mayonnaise soaking into her hair and her skin. Mayonnaise dripping down her naked body. Mayonnaise sliding down to her butt crack.

Courtney gagged again.

“Riya!” she shouted.

Riya and Dee broke into hysterical laughter. It faded as they retreated to the bunks.

Courtney’s face flushed hot with anger. Riya Johnson knew exactly how she felt about mayonnaise. She’d used her prior knowledge to concoct one of Courtney’s worst nightmares. That bitch.

Frantically, Courtney thrust her hands under the running water and rubbed at the foul gelatinous goo coating her hands.

Every time she moved, she got a fresh waft of disgusting condiment smell. She squeezed out a giant handful of shampoo and washed the oily mess from her hair. She still smelled it, though. It was in her pores and clinging to her hair. She washed her hair twice more and scrubbed her entire body with a loofah until her skin was pink.

When Courtney was sure she’d gotten rid of all the repulsive gunk, she stood under the water until it ran cold, then shut off the tap. She slipped a hand outside of the curtain to grab the towel she’d hung on the hook. Her fingers struck cold tile. Courtney stuck her head out, searching for her towel. Maybe it had fallen on the floor, or maybe she’d put it on the next stall over.

But her towel was nowhere to be seen. Realization struck like a hammer. This was a double prank.

“Riya Johnson!” Courtney called.

Riya and Delores appeared at the end of the shower stalls. A couple of other girls joined behind them seconds later. Courtney’s green-and-blue-striped towel was hooked around Riya’s index finger and tossed over her shoulder.

“What?” Riya said, voice dripping with false innocence.

The girls behind her giggled.

“Give me my towel.” The words were deep and threatening, a growl.

More faces appeared behind Riya until Courtney was sure every girl in their cabin stood in the bathroom with nothing but a thin sheet of vinyl between them and her naked body. It was too early for Becky to have returned from whatever the counselors did every night in the cafeteria, so the closest counselor was the one keeping watch outside the cabins and wouldn’t hear her if she called for help.

Riya looked at the towel over her shoulder like she’d just realized it was there. “Oh, this?” She extended her arm.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Give it to me.”

“I say make her come get it,” Delores said.

A couple of girls standing behind them voiced their agreement, but Riya froze. The smile fell from her face, and her chest rose sharply. Her gaze traced the edge of the shower curtain.

Courtney’s hand slipped on the vinyl, and she took a step back.

“No. I have a better idea.” Riya had recovered, but her voice wasn’t as strong as it’d been seconds earlier. “I’ll toss it to you.”

Courtney raised her eyebrows. If she knew Riya—and she did—there was a “but” coming, or an “if.” A big one.

A smirk curved one half of Riya’s lips. “After you sing ‘I’m a Little Teapot.’”

Courtney groaned.

This was
war.

Chapter Six

Riya woke
early again to a completely silent cabin. She’d lain still for a couple of minutes, listening for the sound of Courtney waking. The past four mornings, she and Courtney had gotten ready alongside each other in utter quiet and walked to their respective practices without trading a single word. Courtney had found a way to ignore or snark at her every other time of the day. When they hung out in a group with Colt, Courtney spoke only to her friends. Despite Colt’s gallant efforts, most of her and Courtney’s communication consisted of trading pranks back and forth and the resulting shouts and promises of revenge.

Not hearing any sound from Courtney’s bunk, Riya shimmied down the ladder. She reached a foot to the ground and hit something sooner than expected. It rocked under her toe, then settled. She wrenched her neck around to peer at it.

Little plastic cups littered the floor around her bed. They stretched seven feet in any direction and were half filled with a dark liquid. Close to her bed, the cups were spaced too closely for Riya to slip a foot in between them.

Strange shapes lay below the cups. Riya squinted. As her eyes adjusted, she recognized her clothing. Every piece of clothing in her dresser had been spread flat across the floor before the cups were placed. So if she messed up and knocked one over, whatever was in the cup would stain her clothes.

Pure evil.

Courtney’s bed was empty. Riya looked around, but the tall blonde did not emerge from any shadows.

Riya slid onto Courtney’s mattress easily. The scent of rose petals wafted up from her sheets and pillow. Riya lay flat on her stomach and picked up a cup, bringing it to her face and sniffing. A sugary, fruity scent greeted her.

She sloshed the red liquid around the cup until inspiration struck. She scooted to the head of the bed and poured the liquid from the cup in her hand into another one until it was full. There was still a small amount left in the cup, so she poured that into another cup. She smiled.

“Should’ve filled them all the way up,” she murmured. Though how Courtney had placed so many cups in the dark without waking anyone, Riya could not imagine. How early had she gotten up? Had she slept at all?

Riya worked slowly, pouring three cups from the foot of the bed into four cups near the head. She carved a foot-wide path into the maze until she couldn’t reach out far enough to grab another cup.

Carefully, focusing on every movement, she stepped down into the hole she’d made and squatted. She continued clearing a path in front of her, pouring the liquid into cups on each side.

When she’d finally reached the edge of the cups, she pumped both fists into the air, resisting the urge to cheer. Around her, campers still slept, but a soft giggle sounded from the bathroom area.

“Courtney?” Riya whispered.

The girl’s willowy frame sauntered toward her. She just stood there, arms crossed, as Riya finished cleaning up the mess.

“Hurry up and change so we can head out,” Courtney said.

Riya changed, and they walked out the cabin door thirty minutes late. Clouds obscured the sun’s position low in the eastern sky.

“You kinda pranked yourself, too, with this one,” Riya pointed out.

Courtney shrugged. “Worth it. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t spill anything, though. I thought for sure…” She trailed off.

It was the most she’d said to Riya in four days. Luckily, there was so much at camp to distract her from Courtney’s aggressive brand of frigidity that she’d barely noticed the chill in the air every time they had to share the same space.

A thinning mist danced across the lake’s glass surface. They walked past the other girls’ cabin in uncompanionable silence. The camp was so quiet at this hour it was easy to pretend they were the only two there.

Their sustained muteness weighed heavily on Riya, until the pressure finally pushed words out of her mouth.

“Courtney,” Riya began, voice cracking. “Thanks for the other day. Arguing with Becky on my behalf.”

Another shrug. “It worked out for me.”

“It reminded me of that one time, at the mall, with the boy from my school.” Riya released the smallest of chuckles. “Remember?”

Riya heard a puff of breath that could have been a laugh and took it as encouragement.

“I think he might have peed his pants, he was so scared of you.” Riya laughed.

Courtney hadn’t raised her voice—she never did—or threatened him, just calmly detailed everything that would happen to him in prison after her parents sued him for harassment.

Riya risked a glance at Courtney and discovered her lips twisted, trying to contain a smile.

“He ran away and knocked all the bags out of that man’s hand,” Riya said, pausing between words to stifle her giggles.

Courtney burst out laughing. “Mr. Baskwill,” she mocked. Her laugh sounded high and clear in the cool mountain air.

The man had turned out to be their principal, shopping with his wife.

Courtney leaned forward, doubling over with laughter. “Oh, he deserved it, though. Calling someone the ‘r’ word is just wrong, especially when it’s my—” Courtney sobered abruptly. “My friend.”

A pang of regret traveled from Riya’s stomach outward into every limb. In her head, there were two Courtneys, and she couldn’t reconcile the disparities. Which one was real? The one who’d defended her as a kid and argued on her behalf yesterday and laughed with her ten seconds ago? Or the one who left her hanging in a tree with a broken heart and now acted like she could not care an ounce less? Riya didn’t even know if it was worth it to find out the answer.

“Do you want to go to Penn State?” Courtney asked, gesturing to Riya’s T-shirt. It was heather gray with
penn state
emblazoned in dark blue.

Riya stared down at her shirt, which she’d grabbed blindly from the pile of clothes she’d scooped off the floor into her dresser. She suppressed the surge of hope and excitement that welled up at the sight of the bold letters with practiced constraint. “I guess.”

Courtney turned to look at her. Her blue eyes looked gray in the cloud-filtered sunlight. “You don’t sound very sure.”

“I mean,” Riya began, clasping her hands together behind her back to keep herself from fidgeting. “I’d love to go there. I’ve talked to their coach. But I have to go where I can get a scholarship, and they may not want me enough.”

“Why the hell not?” Courtney’s words were defensive, but her tone was soft.

“They’re consistently one of the top ten teams in the NCAA,
and
they have great academics. They can take their pick of setters.” She’d been so careful the past year to not get her hopes up.

Shaking her head, Courtney frowned, then sighed.

“What?”

“You sell yourself too short. You always have.” She tugged on her high ponytail, then wrapped the long strands around her hand. “Never mind.”

“You have no idea how good—or not—I am at volleyball. You haven’t so much as said a word to me in four years.” Riya felt the uneasy warmth of a flush creeping up her cheeks.

“I’ve been watching the games here, remember?” Courtney said.

As if Riya could forget Courtney lying out next to the court every other day sporting the skimpiest bikinis the camp would allow.

Riya squeezed her hands together. “Those games are…recreational, at best.”

“You got that scholarship, so you must be good.” Courtney’s words came quick and low. “You always get whatever you decide you want. Plus, you’re good at everything.”

Riya already had her rebuttal prepared, but Courtney’s last statement halted her words. Good at everything? “I am not good at everything. Hardly anything. I can’t even use the bathroom without giving myself a bruise.”

Courtney laughed a brisk, tight laugh. She pointed to her right, where the short path leading to the volleyball court lay. “All I’m saying is, if you decide you want it enough, you’ll find a way to make it yours.” She paused. “Talk to you tomorrow morning.”

Riya stood there for a couple of seconds, watching Courtney jog the short rest of the way to the arts hut. She glanced down at the logo on her T-shirt, then back at Courtney, then back at her shirt. A ghost of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth before she shook her head to dispel it, reminding herself whom she was dealing with. One minute of conversation didn’t make up for years of iciness. And it didn’t change the fact that Courtney was now a seasoned heartbreaker who felt nothing for her.

Riya wiped away the last remnants of her smile and turned away, jogging to the volleyball court.

Colt and Trey stood outside the cafeteria when Riya walked up with the rest of her bunk.

“Good morning, ladies,” Trey said, before turning his full attention on Riya. “How are you liking Pine Ridge so far?”

His mess of curls flopped unevenly to one side, shading half of his face so that one eye looked golden in the morning sun and the other looked brown.

She smiled at him. “Can’t complain.”

“Yeah.” His smile had a weight to it. “Me neither.”

He walked her to her table, lingering to chat. Riya kept one eye on the door, half hoping Courtney would walk in and catch them flirting. Riya wanted Courtney to see how happy she could be without her. But breakfast was starting. Becky gave Trey some serious side-eye, so he retreated to his table. Courtney still hadn’t arrived.

Riya had already taken several bites of her amazing blueberry French toast casserole when Courtney finally strolled through the door of the cafeteria. She’d slipped a roomy lavender dolman sweater over her tights. The flush on her cheeks was natural, but the long, fluttering lashes had a little help from mascara. While everyone around her lumbered through the room like zombies, she moved with a supreme grace, like she floated across the floor instead of walked.

She slid easily into the seat her friends had saved for her on the other side of the table without even glancing at Riya.

Once again too chipper for the morning, Becky was running through the day’s upcoming activity schedule.

“And tonight’s activity is one of my personal favorites,” Becky gushed, pausing to squeeze her shoulders together and give them an open-mouthed smile. “Capture the flag!”

At their tables, the ten- to eleven-year-old crowd cheered at hearing the same news. Riya thought it could be fun, but then she caught the expressions on her tablemates’ faces.

“Why do you guys look like she just told us we’re going to square dance tonight?” Riya asked.

“Square dancing would be more fun,” Elise said, and Riya couldn’t tell if she actually thought square dancing would be fun or if she hated capture the flag that much.

“They don’t separate out the age groups,” Tiffany explained. “And the younger kids run around screaming with no strategy or game plan. The teams are too big. It’s chaos.”

Stefanie nodded in agreement. “Last year we tried to leave to play cards, but the counselors guilted us into staying.”

“But they always have good snacks on Capture the Flag night,” Elise pointed out.

On the walk back to their cabin, Riya told her friends about Courtney’s prank.

“Oh, the bug juice prank!” Elise exclaimed. “I always thought that one was fun until I realized how wasteful it is, with all those plastic cups.”

“So what’s next?” Tiffany asked.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Dee offered.

“Don’t you worry,” Riya said. “I’ve got one all ready for her. Just don’t get up early to use the bathroom tomorrow morning, okay?”

The girls giggled.

“I knew the moment we met, you’d fit right in,” Dee said, slapping Riya on the back.

Riya couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. It’d only been a week at camp, but Riya’d never had a group of friends like these girls at any of her schools. Of course she’d had friends before—she wasn’t entirely incapable of talking to people, just mostly—but not like this. Not the kind of friends you know have your back, no matter what. Not the kind of friends she’d miss when she moved on again.

…

Dewey, the pool lifeguard, blew the whistle signaling the end of t
he swimming session. Lunch time, finally. Courtney’s stomach growled with impudence. That’s what she got for being late to breakfast. Kids groaned and splashed toward the pool ladders and stairs.

Bridget, lying next to her on a towel, stretched her arms above her head. Her legs and stomach, like Courtney’s, glistened from a mixture of sweat and tanning oil. She and her friend had gone with a very loose definition of “swimming” during the activity period.

They’d been assigned different cabins this year, and Courtney found herself missing Bridget terribly over the past week. This was their fifth summer as camp friends, though they never talked during the school year besides exchanging occasional likes on Instagram. Bridget wasn’t super deep or even very nice, but she was easy. She didn’t ask complicated questions or force thoughtful conversation. And, despite her perfect body—with incredible C-cups, wide, swaying hips, and a flat stomach between—Courtney had never felt the tiniest hint of attraction toward her. What she’d told her brother was true, she assured herself as she stared at Bridget’s smooth skin without a single prick of desire. She didn’t like girls.

“So, you’re going after David this time, huh?” Bridget asked, too casual to be as uninterested as she sounded.

Courtney shrugged. “He’s cute enough.” Though she’d gotten the same thrill she always got when she managed to snag a boy on her hook, she felt nothing for David himself. No spark, despite squeezing the biceps she’d heard other girls swoon over. “Why?”

Bridget swept to her feet and started straightening out her crumpled dress. Her gold bikini glittered in the sun. She didn’t look at Courtney. “No reason.”

“Uh-huh.” Courtney wasn’t buying it. She stood up and stepped into her shorts.

Bridget pulled the dress over her head. She sighed. “He was on my short list. Which has gotten shorter the last couple of days.”

Courtney laughed. “I’m not attached. I’ll back off if you want.” She tugged on her pale blue tank.

Bridget ceased fidgeting with her dress and looked at Courtney, gauging her reaction. “Oh, would you?”