Matt spoke to the peaked ceiling. “How convenient.”
My nails drummed on the hardwood. “Actually it was cold, dark, and a little scary, but thanks for your concern.”
His eyes flashed to mine. “I was worried. Rob and Bam-Bam had to keep me from going after you.”
For the first time I noticed a nasty shoulder bruise and what looked like finger marks on his upper arm. I reached out to touch the spots.
“Are these from—”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened as my fingers swept over the discolored skin.
Touched, I blurted, “I’m so sorry. Believe me. I wanted to get back but Seth said it was too dangerous.”
Matt’s laugh was bitter and hard. “And you believed him.”
“Since he knows these woods and is my friend, yeah. I trusted him.”
“We both know he’s more than a friend.” His low voice echoed in the empty space. “Hannah saw you hugging him in the dining hall this morning.”
Of course. Hannah. Would that girl ever quit? Then again, with Matt close to being hers, why would she? Since it wasn’t her last year of eligibility for camp, or Matt’s, they could plan to meet up again next summer. My heart clenched. Maybe they already had.
“The floor was wet and he slipped.” I sat on the piano bench, encouraged that he didn’t leap off the seat when I did.
His bottle green eyes searched mine, a light in them growing as tense seconds ticked away. Finally, he exhaled, his shoulders lowering.
“You’re telling the truth.”
“Duh. I told you I didn’t want to go out with anyone right now, and I meant it.”
“So have you figured things out yet?”
I shook my head. “No. But I’m writing my essay to become an Aerospace Scholar at NASA’s Johnson Space Center.”
Matt’s smile made my stomach flip- flop. He grabbed my hands. “That’s awesome. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do that?”
“It’ll mean I might not have time to cheer next year.” I knew cheerleading wasn’t everything, but I liked it and I would miss it.
“That’s perfect, because I’m going to be hanging out in the music room instead of playing football.”
“We’re both geeks—” we said at the same time. “Jinx, you owe me a soda,” we chorused again and laughed.
“That makes us geek chic.” I pushed up my square frames.
“I prefer nerd cool.” Matt punctuated his statement with a cascade of chords.
“Definitely cooler.” I smiled and gestured to the piano. “Why didn’t you tell me you played?”
“I’ve gotten used to keeping it under wraps.” His words were punctuated by two ominous chords. “It never fit with my father’s image of a dedicated jock.” He deepened his voice in a decent imitation of his dad. “
Keep your focus on the game, son
.”
“That wouldn’t have mattered to me.”
“You cared a lot about cheerleading and your popular friends. What was I supposed to think?”
I opened my mouth and closed it. Had I made him believe I wouldn’t accept this different side of him? That I would think like his father? I’d been so busy trying to fit in with my family’s expectations that I had failed to realize that others, even confident kids like Matt, did the same.
Matt’s hands danced across the keys, a jaunty melody springing from them like magic. “And I’m not taking over the car dealership when Dad retires, either.” He trailed his fingers along the length of the board to punctuate his declaration of independence. Butler men had sold cars in Texas since Henry Ford was alive, and probably sold horses before that. My mind reeled.
“What will you do instead?”
“My mom said I can study music after I graduate.”
“Wow, Matt, that’s amazing.” I hugged him quickly, then pulled back.
Matt shook his head, looking as shell-shocked as me. “Crazy, right? I used to know where I’d end up, but everything is different now. I’m not afraid to do what I want—be who I am anymore.” He rubbed his hand across his forehead. “I sound like a fortune cookie.”
I squeezed his hand. “No. You’re making perfect sense.” I nodded at his music sheet. “Is that what you’re writing about?”
Red bloomed under his tan cheeks. “No.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a love song.”
“Oh.” I stood and wiped my damp palms on my shorts, not sure if I wanted to know who he’d written it for. Given my behavior, I doubted it was me.
“Maybe I’ll play it for you someday,” he said, his voice pitched low.
“I’d like that.” I backed away. “But I’ve got to finish my application essay today or I won’t get in.”
His eyes shone with confidence. “You’ll get in, Lauren. There’s no one better.”
I shut the door behind me and stopped to catch my breath. Never in a million years would I have imagined Matt Butler choosing music over football. It was too unreal to process.
The lounge was deserted when I returned. I wished Siobhan had stuck around, but I was glad for the privacy. My head felt like a tornado had blown through it, my thoughts twisting all around. Matt and Seth had changed this summer. Then a thought struck me. I had, too. A different Lauren would return to Texas, just like a new Lauren had left it. The only difference was that now I accepted those changes. Like Matt said, I shouldn’t be afraid to be myself.
I picked up my pen and got back to the essay.
At first glance, the universe appears to be a constant. But I’ve learned that things are rarely as they appear. New stars form as I write, while others fade away, their light dimming to allow room in the sky for the next generation. Such change is not to be feared, but celebrated
.
The unknown is a gift, a promise, a journey worth more than its destination. As an Aerospace Scholar, I will bring my passion for this dynamic, ever-growing entity, the primordial origin of life. My thirst to uncover the many secrets the heavens hold will make me a dedicated student and a fascinated observer of the wonder that lies above
.
I’d convince Emily to let me type and email it tonight. Then I’d make copies. Two individuals had taught me a lot this summer, and I wanted both to see what I’d learned.
As I passed Siobhan’s empty chair, I noticed a note propped against its back.
L- If I could write you a letter of reference it’d go like this: I’m pleased to recommend Lauren Carlson. She’s the smartest girl I know and the one I’d vote as most likely to change the universe. She will always be one of my closest friends, and you’d be lucky to have her. We were. See you at the talent show, Lauren! Can’t wait—the girls will freak. Love ya, Siobhan
.
I swiped at my damp cheeks, incredulous that by some miracle I’d kept at least one friend. Would tomorrow’s risky plan help me win back the rest, or would I lose them forever?
* * *
After spell-checking for the tenth time, I hit send a few minutes before the computer lab shut down for the day. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms. Wow. I’d completed the NASA application and taken my first step toward the life I wanted. After all I’d been through, I never would have guessed that the guy who’d help me realize my dreams would be my father.
When I returned to Divas’ Den, my belongings were heaped on the porch, with an “I’m sorry” note in Kayla’s handwriting. My shoulders slumped as I processed their unspoken message: I was no longer welcome. Spending the night with Seth hadn’t gone over well after promising to keep the summer “boy-free.” Kayla might have believed me, but what chance would she have stood against Hannah’s harsh judgment?
I packed my clothes in my suitcase and left it there on the porch with the rest of my stuff. Grabbing some leftover trail mix from my bag, I set out to hike along the Nantahala River, something I’d always liked doing when I came to camp. I wanted at least a few camp memories that weren’t about boys and cliques. Much later, when the campers gathered at their final bonfire, I snuck back and grabbed my sleeping bag.
Lying on the dock, I listened to an orchestra of crickets and the lapping water below. There was nothing like sleeping outdoors on a clear night. Luckily, Victoria’s deep sleep habits meant I wouldn’t be missed.
Brilliant stars twinkled down from an onyx sky. I drew my flannel-lined sleeping bag around me as the first breath of crisp night air caressed my shoulders. Summer was ending.
I watched the steadfast universe I’d always loved—Polaris, the North Star, and the Big and Little Dippers. But the familiar formations left me restless, and I scanned for signs that the heavens changed like us, something I no longer feared. I could evolve eternally and shine just as bright.
A flash of light streaked across the midnight sky. As it fell like a sparkler, I made a wish. I’d finally figured who I was and what my place in the world should be.
The question was, who to share it with? And would he want to share it with me?
Chapter Twenty-One
The day of the talent show passed in a blur. After hours of prep work running errands for counselors and helping paint scenery, I stepped out of the shower. Outside the window, kids chattered on their way back from dinner. They shoved, giggled, and screeched, their excitement for our end-of-the-year event palpable.
I blew out my hair, straightening every inch until it reflected the waning light. I withdrew my dance outfit from my suitcase, my breath catching as I tore off the plastic. Kayla’s fashion-connected mom had come through and gotten us gorgeous costumes in record time.
Mine was a toucan. I pulled on the emerald-green tights and slipped the matching leotard over them. A cropped jacket made of yellow, green, and white faux feathers, and a green mask complete with a bright orange beak, completed the ensemble.
After donning the last two pieces, I gasped at my exotic reflection. The green darkened my eyes, giving them a mysterious look. The feathers floated around me, lending me grace before I started moving. I felt transformed, an endangered animal about to execute a dangerous plan—one I was less and less sure of as the hour drew nearer.
A towel-clad Kayla bumped into me as I stuffed my feet into matching green jazz shoes and headed for the door.
“Sorry,” we both blurted, then looked away.
“That looks great.” Kayla swung her shower tote in her hand. “I’m sure Seth will love it.”
I didn’t bother responding to that one since she would believe what she wanted anyhow. At least she hadn’t ignored me. I was fortunate that the choreography for our number meant they couldn’t exclude me from the routine. After our planning session, we’d held more formal practices in which my part, like the others, became an integral part of the dance.
Before I could think of anything to say, Kayla had already turned on the shower spray.
I slipped off the mask, put it in my bag, and lugged my suitcase down the shower house steps. Where to go? Then inspiration struck. Within minutes, I reached Emily’s cabin.
My
former cabin. The other Munchies would already be at the arts building.
“Polly want a cracker?” Emily croaked when she opened her door. She wore a glittering pink bustier and a green mermaid’s tail that nearly reached her red platform heels. Hopefully this was her talent show outfit. But with Emily, who knew?
“I need a place to store this until tomorrow,” I gestured to my luggage. “Can I keep it here?”
Emily stopped giggling and looked at me, her smile fading. “Lauren. Are you okay?”
A lump formed in my throat. I nodded, unable to speak.
Emily put a thin arm around my shoulder, led me to her bunk and sat me down. “No, you’re not. I can see it. Honey. I know a lot has happened to you—at least, according to Trinity’s diary—but these are supposed to be the best years of your life.”
A bleak laugh escaped me. Emily squeezed me tighter.
“Hey. Do you think I was always this confident? That everyone liked me the way they do now?” I swallowed back a gasp as she continued. “For years I tried to be everyone’s friend, fit in, be what they wanted. Look—” She grabbed a spangled purse and pulled out a picture of a stylish young woman wearing an argyle sweater and dress slacks, standing with a preppy family. “That’s me.”
I looked from the photo back to Emily’s outlandish outfit, trying to comprehend that this was the same person.
“The only difference?” she continued, tapping the picture, “I was miserable there.” I examined the snapshot, noting the huge ring on her finger and a man as handsome as Rob standing beside her. Was this an engagement party? My eyes flew to her bare left hand.
Emily followed my gaze and wiggled her acrylic tips. “Yep. Single—well, kind of.” She plucked at the dog tags that hung from her throat. “Bam-Bam said I could keep these, so I guess that means we’re together.”
“Why not Rob?” I blurted. He had always seemed like the ideal man. And he’d made it clear he liked Emily.
Emily laughed. “Oh. I’ve dated a hundred Robs before. Almost married one to please my parents.” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “My family’s loaded, and they expect me to marry someone who’s either rich, gorgeous or preferably both.”
She tossed the photo aside. “But in the words of the late, great rocker Kurt Cobain, ‘Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.’ I didn’t want to waste a minute of my life being with guys like that, so I came—”
“—here,” I breathed, taking a guess.
Emily’s broad smile appeared. “How did you know?” She walked over to her mirror, a tube of lipstick in hand.
“I did the same thing.”
Emily met my eyes in the mirror, her bottom lip painted a bright fuchsia. “Weird. No wonder you’re my home girl. We’re exactly the same, except,” a furrow appeared between her brows, “you didn’t get your Prince Charming.”
I hung my head. “Nope. Definitely not. But I turned in my application to the Houston Aerospace Scholar program.” My chest loosened, recalling the satisfaction I’d felt in making the deadline.
Emily pulled me up and caught me in a tight hug.
“That’s awesome. Who needs men anyway? I didn’t come to camp looking to find someone, and I ended up with Bam-Bam.”
“And I came to camp looking for someone and ended up with no one,” I said with more than a touch of irony.
She released me and shook her head. “You did find someone.” She jabbed her finger at my chest. “Yourself.”