Tug-of-War (10 page)

Maggie held up her finger and looked thoughtful. “Actually, I might. My mom packs the weirdest stuff in my trunk in case of, quote, ‘emergencies.' Let me check.”

She rummaged through her trunk. “Eyedropper. Why would anyone ever need an eyedropper? Band-Aids. A pair of tweezers. Four toothbrushes, three nail files—half of this stuff I've never even seen before. Oh wait—what's this?” She held up a little box and shook it. “Personal sewing kit!” She handed it to Betsy with a smile.

“Oh, great, thanks!” said Betsy.

“Thank my mom. Just leave it anywhere on my shelf when you're done.”

Then Maggie went to the mirror to brush her hair, and I went over to stand beside her, acting like I was checking out my hair too.

“Nice skirt, Kachina. You look like one of those whatchamacallit dancers,” said Maggie.

“What—you mean flamenco dancers? I guess it does kind of have a Latin flair to it.” My skirt wasn't as long and full as a flamenco dancer's, but I knew she meant it as a compliment.

“Think we'll see Jackson tonight?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. I felt like everyone could hear how much I liked him just by the way I said his name. Jackson, Jackson, Jackson.

“Probably. He wrote me yesterday and said the JCs would be there tonight.”

My heart thumped happily. “Uh, I was thinking that Devon could hang around with you and me tonight,” I said softly. “I mean, it's a dance, so it's not like there can be some big disaster—nobody falling out of a canoe or anything.”

Maggie laid her brush down on the shelf and sighed. “I guess. Chris, I don't mind if you spend time with
her
tonight. I can just talk to Jackson and some of his friends. I'll be okay on my own.”

“Maggie, no!” I shouted, and Devon and Betsy both looked at me. “I'm not going to desert you tonight. Let's just try and see if the three of us can't get through one night together. I bet we can. Going to a dance is not like going to activities.”

Maggie glanced over her shoulder at Devon, who was sitting on her bed, putting some earrings on. “What if Ghosty Girl refuses to get within five feet of me?”

“Don't worry about that. I already talked to her, and
she agreed that it would be okay for the three of us to stick together. Like Musketeers.”

“More like Stooges,” Maggie said. Then she made a face like Curly and started dancing around me. “Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk!” From her bed, Devon looked over at the two of us and frowned.

“Enough with Curly already. Can you stand being in Devon's presence tonight?” I asked. The thought of having to referee those two had me a little worried. I was hoping to give Jackson my undivided attention.

Maggie stopped dancing around me. “Sure. I promise I'll be good. I know how it stresses you out when we're at each other all the time.”

“Okay, good. I just want to have fun tonight. That's all I care about.”

As I stood in front of the mirror, I let out a relieved sigh. I wasn't going to have to split myself in half tonight by spending time with the two of them separately. We were going to be together, all three of us.
And
I was going to see Jackson.

Everything was set up for a perfect evening.

Or not.

Jackson had gotten even cuter since I'd seen him last summer. He was taller, and his face had cleared up. A girl would have to be blind not to fall for him. And Devon happened to have 20/20 vision.

After dinner, we'd all piled into the vans and trucks to go over to Camp Crockett. I'd been in such a great mood. I sat between Devon and Maggie on the bench of one of the vans, and even though they didn't talk to each other, I was able to talk to both of them, and nobody was arguing.

Then we walked into Camp Crockett's dining hall, where all the boys were waiting. All the chairs and tables had been pushed back and stacked up against the
walls to leave room in the center for dancing. The boys were all standing around, trying to look cool, and the girls were falling all over themselves to get a good look at the selection that Camp Crockett had to offer.

“Finally,” Devon said. “I can't believe I've gone a whole week without seeing any boys.”

When I saw Jackson standing across the room talking with a group of Crockett JCs, he actually took my breath away. He was wearing torn jeans and a navy blue shirt with a white seagull on it. That dark color looked perfect on him.

“Oh, there's my brother,” said Maggie, in a totally normal voice. Apparently, she had no idea how cute he was. I just hoped nobody would slip on the puddle of drool I was leaving on the floor in front of me.

I loved the way he stood with his arms crossed, the way he laughed, the way his blond hair fell across one eye.

“Let's go say hi,” said Maggie. She was so casual. I was feeling a little light-headed, maybe because my pulse was beating faster than a hummingbird's wings.

“Okay,” I said, my voice cracking a little. We started moving through the crowd of people around us. Boys were slowly coming over to talk to some of the girls,
but all these guys were our age. I looked right through them. There was only one boy I could see in the entire dining hall.

“So where's your crush?” Devon whispered to me. I was afraid Maggie might hear her, but Maggie didn't seem to notice.

“See the guy with blond hair in the navy blue shirt?” I asked, pointing as discreetly as I could. “That's Jackson.”

“
That's
the gorilla's brother?” Devon gasped, and the second I heard her voice, I knew there was trouble. “Oh. My. God. Not much of a family resemblance, is there?”

Jackson smiled when he saw us approaching, but already I had this panicked feeling, like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Maybe it was because Devon suddenly bolted a few steps in front of me as we got closer.

“Jackers!” Maggie yelled, and tackled him with a hug.

“Hey, what's up?” Jackson said in his deep, smooth voice. He reached out and wrapped one arm around Maggie's shoulders.

“Remember my friend Chris? I think you guys met last year. And this is Devon.”

That's all it took.
This is Devon.

It was like someone had shot off a starting pistol, because Devon was out of the gate and galloping full speed ahead to capture Jackson's complete, undivided attention.

“Wow, cool shirt! It's Hollister, right? I
love
Hollister.”

Jackson smiled. This cute, lopsided smile out of one side of his mouth. A smile that was directed at Devon, not me. “Oh, yeah? You've got good taste. You like to shop there?”

“Yeah, I do. I love how
soft
their T-shirts feel. Hey, you could be a model for them. You've got that California look,” said Devon.

Jackson smiled again. Meanwhile I had become completely invisible. I was as see-through as the Converse high-tops I'd had on earlier.

“So are you a counselor? What's your activity?” Devon asked, tossing her head a little so that her hair bounced around.

“He's just a JC,” Maggie said. “He's not a counselor. Yet.” She reached up and playfully messed up his hair.

“Yeah, I'm not a counselor, but all the JCs assist at an activity. So I help out with swimming.” Jackson leaned against one of the tables that had been shoved out of the way of the dancers.

His friends had all wandered off when we had showed up, but Jackson didn't seem at all bored talking to us. He was so friendly and so nice. But my tongue was plastered against the roof of my mouth, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Meanwhile, Devon couldn't keep her mouth shut.

“Oh, cool. Are you a lifeguard? Have you ever had to save anyone who was drowning? Give them CPR? Mouth-to-mouth?”

Jackson laughed. “No, luckily! Because I'm lifeguarding at a boys' camp, remember?”

“Hey, you're welcome to come lifeguard at Pine Haven anytime,” Devon said with a smile. She looked at me like she was waiting for me to say something, but I just glared at her.

How could she do this? How could she think of so many things to say to him? How could she be so funny and confident? And how could she steal all his attention?

What was she thinking? She knew I liked him, and here she was yakking nonstop and not letting me get a single word in!

That was how the night started, and it didn't get any better. In fact, it got a lot worse.

It seemed like everyone in the dining hall faded into
the background, including me, and there were only two people standing there in a little pool of light, chatting away. Devon and Jackson.

Maggie had promised me she'd be nice to Devon tonight, and unfortunately, she was keeping that promise. I was dying for her to say something that would embarrass Devon.

When Devon was oohing and aahing over Jackson being on the swimming staff, why couldn't Maggie have chimed in, “Yeah, Ghosty Girl here won't go near our lake because she thinks it's a swamp. But Chris is a great swimmer. Like yesterday, she was wearing this cute striped bikini and . . .” But Maggie was on her best behavior. For once.

Devon blabbed her stupid head off. I stood there listening to it all, amazed that she didn't need a few puffs from an oxygen tank every now and then, considering the workout her lungs were getting. Every time she made some funny comment, she'd look at me, like she expected me to laugh at it. I couldn't believe it!

They talked about everything. Jackson being class president next year. “That sounds
great
! Oh, and the junior class officers get to plan prom for the seniors? That sounds
amazing
. Have you picked a theme? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Picked a theme?
How did Devon know to ask all these questions? I figured she'd heard her older sister, Ariana, talk about all this prom garbage. Even if I'd had a chance to get a word in edgewise, I'd never know what kinds of
prom
questions to ask.

The worst part of it was that I had to stand there with a smile on my face, listening to her drone on and on.

Then the subject turned to driver's ed. “Did you do behind-the-wheel training? Yeah, my sister's going to do that too. Oh, can I see your license? Wow, great picture! Do you have a car?”

When I thought things couldn't get much worse, Devon started showing off her “Look at me, I'm in the gifted program” vocabulary. She somehow managed to use the word “audacity” in the course of their conversation.

“Hey, I could use your help studying for the SATs,” Jackson told her.

It wasn't like Jackson was really into her or anything. He was just being nice. But it enraged me the way Devon completely dominated all of his attention when she knew I liked him.

I gave Maggie a nudge with my elbow. Couldn't she call Devon “Palechild” right about now?

“Having a good time?” she asked me over the sound of the music.

“No! I wish Devon would shut up!” I whispered hoarsely in Maggie's ear. I didn't want Jackson to overhear me.

“You think you're gonna throw up?” Maggie practically screamed.

Devon and Jackson stopped talking and looked at me. “That's not what I said!” I shouted. “I did NOT say I was going to throw up!”

“I sure hope not. That would ruin everyone's evening,” said Devon, laughing this silly little laugh. After she caught her breath, she was off and running again about what Jackson's favorite music was.

“Really? You play guitar? I should've guessed. You look like the rocker type. Ever thought of starting your own band?”

I wished for a pair of cymbals right about now. Crash them right in front of her face and leave her too stunned and deaf to say anything else for the rest of the night.

I hated every single second of that dance, and it felt like it lasted for thirty-seven-and-a-half years.

When we said good-bye to Jackson, all I could do was fake a tiny smile and get a “See you later” out in a croaky voice. For a second my throat tightened, and
I had to turn away quickly because I was afraid I was actually about to tear up.

I felt like a twenty-pound weight was sitting on my chest. Twenty pounds of sheer disappointment. What did it matter that I'd worn my new skirt? I could've worn striped clown pants and Jackson would never have even looked in my direction.

“Wow, what a great dance,” Devon said, when the torturous night was finally over. It was dark outside now, and the night air felt chilly after we'd been crammed inside the dining hall for an eternity with all those loudmouthed people. All the Pine Haven girls were slowly filing out onto the dining hall porch and down the steps to the parking area.

“Your brother's cool,” Devon told Maggie in this annoyingly cheerful voice that made me want to push her down the stone steps. Then finally she noticed that I was still alive. “Did you have a good time, Chris?”

I stopped walking and spun around so that Devon practically crashed into me. “No. I did not have a good time. How could I when my so-called best friend had the
audacity
to talk his ears off for the entire night! I'm surprised you didn't sprain your stupid tongue!”