Chapter Sixteen: Pranks, Poker and Punishment

For one thing, Jack was not in the dining hall. Sarah sighed; so much for that idea. She glanced around, and David wasn't there either. No surprise. He was probably up in his cabin being antisocial. Just like always.

On the other hand, Blink was there. He waved as soon as she walked in and walked over to her. "Hey, hey." He grinned. "What's up? Want some coffee? Cookie?"

"What are you, a stewardess?" she asked, irritated by the lack of Jack.

He laughed and led her and Shakes to the table where he and Mush had been sitting, sort of against her will. She didn't actually walk off, just visibly rolled her eyes and sat down. Mush raised an eyebrow at her but didn't say anything. She ignored it.

"So Sarah, nothing yet?" he asked, giving a suspicious look at Smurf, Hotshot and Swinger, who were sitting at another table and whispering at each other. Except for now and then, when Smurf would loudly start yelling at Swinger to speak English, and Swinger would start yelling in jive, which no one else understood, and Hotshot would have to shut them up.

"Nope. Maybe they won't do anything," Sarah said.

"I doubt it. I know Smurf, she'll—"

"The problem is Hotshot."

Mush snickered and as Blink nodded, Mush commented, "Your problem, maybe. But Blink and Smurf—"

"Are lunatics? I noticed."

Blink looked kind of offended. "Well, we get a little... Yeah, anyway, I was thinking that after the IceyHot—"

"Blink," Sarah interrupted, annoyed, "would you just chill? Okay? Jeeze... I'm gonna head off. I'll see you later."

She stood up and Shakes rolled her eyes a little bit and did the same. Blink shrugged, clearly slightly hurt, and said a quick goodnight. To which he got the tactful reply, "Yeah, whatever," and Sarah walked off.

Mush shot Blink a sad look. "She's not into it."

"You mean me." He sighed, and watched as they left the dining hall. "She's not into me."

"Sorry," Mush said quickly. "Don't worry about it, she's not—"

"Yeah, yeah." Blink shrugged. "You wouldn't know, huh? All the girls love you."

"Ught, you can have them." Mush reached for Blink's coffee and finished it off. Blink rolled his eyes a little.

*

"You should at least be nice to him," Shakes scoffed. "I mean, he's a nice guy."

"I didn't say he's not!" Sarah snapped. "I just said, I don't like him like that, and if he doesn't get the idea..."

"You should tell him."

"If he tells me—"

"You are so irritating sometimes," Shakes groaned. "This is 2003, Sarah. It's not like you'd have to ask him to ask you to the dance, it's not like you can't talk to him about his crush on you. You're a liberated woman."

"Whatever." Sarah tossed her hair over her shoulder as they walked into the cabin. "Anyway, I—"

"What is that?!" Shakes interrupted.

"What—what the...?"

Sarah glanced over at where Shakes was pointing, and saw a busy line of ants, crawling from a crack in the wall over to their bunk. She stared at it for a second, then shuddered a little bit. Insects. Gross. She walked over to their bunk to see what they were looking to eat, and noticed that they were marching slightly up the bedpost.

She had a sinking feeling and looked over at Shakes, who looked a little woozy. "I hate bugs," Sarah said.

"Me too."

Wincing away as she did it, Sarah crouched down to see where the ants were going. And it was directly... under her sheets. She squeaked slightly and threw back the sheet and blanket, and screamed.

Someone had coated her sheet with honey and empty candy wrappers.

And it was absolutely coated in ants. There were a few other insects as well, and it was disgusting and swarming with creatures, and Sarah didn't stop screaming. Shakes glanced down to see and she started screaming too, and finally Paint rushed in from the other bunk to see what was going on.

"What is—"

"Look what they did to my bed!"

Paint looked, and shuddered. "That's disgusting."

"My bed!"

"Sarah, calm down, it's—"

"It's my bed and it's covered in insects and—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh."

"Woah, okay, hey." Paint sighed. "Come on, why don't you two wait outside and I'll..." She made a face looking down at the blanket. "Take care of this and... get some insect spray from Mrs. Higgins house. Do you know who did this?"

"Yes." Sarah crossed her arms and glared.

"Proof?"

"No, but—"

"Oh, never mind. Just go, now; Rebel should be patrolling tonight so if you can find her and ask her to come up here, please..."

"Okay." Sarah shuddered again, and felt a little sick. She hated insects. She and Shakes walked out to see Hotshot, Smurf and Swinger standing around watching, and laughing.

Hotshot smirked, raised an eyebrow, and didn't say anything.

Sarah shuddered, and turned away. She just wasn't quite up to yelling. So she and Shakes walked down to the next unit, looking for the counselor who was patrolling the girls' side of camp.

*

"Jack."

Jack looked up, a little startled. He'd been sitting in one of the armchairs in the counselor's cabin, half-heartedly reading a novel that had been lying around, smoking. He put out the cigarette and nodded.

"Hey, Race." He slumped in the chair and set the book aside. "So what's the bad news, huh?"

"No bad news, Cowboy." Race grinned a little. "Go talk to him."

"What did he say?"

"That wasn't part of the deal, Jacky. I just had to talk to him. Now you go talk."

"Race..." Jack said hesitantly.

"He doesn't hate you, dope. Go on already." Race held out a hand and helped haul Jack to his feet, and gave him a hearty push to the door. "He's up in the cabin, he's the only one there."

"Race..."

"Oh, no." Race shoved him out the door. "No. You kissed him. And you and promised me. If you think you're getting out of—"

"Yeah, I'm going already! Jesus." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Jack. Good luck." Race shrugged. "I'll keep everyone busy in the dining hall, if I can. Give you two awhile."

As they fell in to step together, Jack asked curiously, "How?"

Race grinned. "Spot said he wants to play some poker. And we always have an audience."

Race stopped at the dining hall, and Jack slowly trudged up the hill to Pentland. He saw David before David noticed him; Dave was still sitting on the porch, alternately staring out into the distance, or down at his notebook, pen clenched in one hand. But he wasn't writing. Jack watched as, frustrated, David dropped the pen onto his lap and ran a hand through his curls, then leaned back in the chair, trying to relax.

Jack swallowed hard. David running his hand through his curls... He tried hard not to think about how much he wanted to play with the curls himself, tangle his fingers in David's hair, hold David close to him...

But David was straight. And Jack was going to have to get used to it. He sighed and stepped on to the porch, and at the sound of his footstep David looked up, a little startled.

"Hey... Dave," Jack said slowly.

"Hey."

Jack hesitated then asked, "Can I sit down?"

"Yeah, sure, you can... Sit."

Jack sat in the chair next to David's and they both stared off into space for awhile. And finally Jack said, "I'm real sorry about last night."

"It's fine."

"It's—it's not fine, Dave. I like you."

"Jack..."

"I mean it. I..." Jack was having a hard time talking, there was a lump in his throat. He'd come up to the cabin to be rejected, but that didn't make it any easier. "I haven't felt like this before. Not about anyone. You're... Different. You're a nice guy, Davey. So I just... I just wanted to say I'm real sorry about doing that to you last night."

David nodded a little, but it took a few seconds for him to answer. "It's... I mean, you don't have to be sorry, I just..." He shook his head a little. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Davey."

"But I want to. I just... No one's ever liked me before."

"I doubt that."

"I'm serious, Jack. I mean it. I... I'm not upset, just..."

"Straight."

"Yeah."

Jack sighed. "I know that. I knew that last night, and I shouldn't have done it. I... put you in a weird position and now things are gonna be... Weird. And I'm so sorry. I don't... It's not like I just like you like that, I think you're really cool and... A good friend."

"You're my friend too." David didn't even hesitate before he said that; for all he felt strange about everything that had happened, he knew that, more than anything else, he didn't want to lose Jack's friendship. "Jack, don't worry. Nothing's going to change that. Okay?"

Jack looked over at him, and David half-smiled. He shrugged. David reached out to put a hand on his arm, then froze, jerked it away, bit his lip and let his arm sit on his chair's arm rest. Jack winced.

"Yeah. It's fine," Jack mumbled.

"I'm sorry," David said quietly.

"Not your fault. I—look, Davey, I like you but I'll... Deal with it. I won't do anything like that again. I promise."

"Okay." David shrugged. "Yeah, okay. I don't want there to be anything... anything awkward between us."

Jack nodded. "Me neither," he agreed. "So I'll just, uh, Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry—I shouldn't even—I could get fired, David. I don't even care, that ain't why I'm talking to you, but if anyone finds out I could lose my job..."

David nodded a little. "And then you'd have to go back to your dad's..."

"Yeah."

"I won't tell, Jack." He shrugged. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Thanks, Davey. I'm so sorry I even brought it up, I messed everything up and then to bring up something like that—"

"It's okay, seriously. I don't want you to get in trouble. You're... My friend. So don't even worry."

"Yeah, uh... Thanks for taking everything so well. I know it's a lot to dump on you and... yeah."

David shrugged. "It's not that big a deal. We'll just... be friends. It'll be fine."

"Fine."  Jack stood up. "Hey, come down to the dining hall with me. There's a card game going on, you won't want to miss it."

"I... I don't play cards, really."

"No, not to play, to watch." He laughed. "You spent any time with Spot yet?"

"Uh... He's the guy in Ferguson, right?"

"Yeah."

"I've seen him around." David shrugged.

"All right, well, he and Race have this tradition where they play cards." Jack laughed. "It's the funniest thing ever."

 

*

 

By the time they arrived in the dining hall, the air was tense. No one was moving, but everyone—all of the senior boys and most of the girls, minus Smurf, Hotshot, Shakes and Sarah—were gathered around a table, pressed in to see the action. They were standing close enough together that David had to stand on his tiptoes to see what they were staring at, unable to push through them.

Seated at the table, staring at each other intently, were Spot and race. Race looked vaguely amused, and Spot looked vaguely annoyed; a pile of toothpicks was dumped between them, they each had their own piles, and finally Spot nodded and slid two more toothpicks from his own stash into the pot in the middle, and nodded at Race.

Race smirked and slid three more in.

Spot raised an eyebrow and matched him.

Race raised the bet again.

Spot matched him.

Race raised it again.

Spot glared and matched him again.

Race glanced down at his cards, shrugged, and put another toothpick into the pot.

Spot tapped his fingers impatiently and matched him.

David watched in confused silence, afraid to speak.

Race cocked his head to the side and studied Spot, who took advantage of the pause to reach for a cup of coffee next to him and finish it off, unaffected by Race's steady gaze. Finally, Race snorted and put five more toothpicks into the pile.

Spot set down the coffee cup, sighed, and matched him. The pile was growing out of control.

Race raised an eyebrow. "Your funeral," he said.

"We'll see. You ready yet?"

"I was, but for that..." He upped the bet by a last toothpick. Spot rolled his eyes and matched, and finally Race nodded. "Lay 'em down," he said.

The onlookers all gasped in deep breaths.

Spot and Race both laid down their hands, and everyone leaned in to observe. Spot had a flush, which was definitely a hand worth betting on, but Race's was better: four of a kind.

There was a collective "Ooooooooooh," from the onlookers, and David noticed a few people seemed to have placed bets—notably not with toothpicks—on the outcome of the hand.

Race had the good grace not to smirk as he collected his winnings and looked over at Spot's vastly smaller remaining pile of toothpicks. And Spot only glared a little in response. "So," Race said finally, "you wanna give up now, or should I beat you again?"

Spot just gathered the cards and began to shuffle.

 

*

 

Mrs. Higgins did not look thrilled, but that was largely because she wasn't thrilled. She was the opposite of thrilled. It was past eleven at night, and not only had she been forced to come deal with a bunch of nonsense, but she'd had to rouse Denton as well, to deal with some stupid, immature prank war.

Needless to say, the looks she was giving the campers in front of her spoke volumes.

Sarah tried her best to slink back into the wall, wishing she was anywhere but there, but especially wishing she was home; Shakes had her knees pulled up to her chest and quietly awaited the coming storm; Hotshot's arms were crossed and she looked angry, though a bit nervous as well; and Smurf was biting her nails and looking incredibly guilty. Mrs. Higgins regarded them all coldly, and then started.

"Well, I hope you're proud of yourselves. You've dragged us out of bed to deal with this mess, we have to find Miss Jacobs somewhere to sleep tonight, not to mention call in an exterminator to deal with the bunk and prevent any further damage from occurring. You've inconvenienced everyone, broken numerous rules, and I really see no reason to not send you all home for the summer."

She paused and glared, and the four campers shared a nervous silence. Smurf was biting her nails still and made a particularly loud crunching sound, then balled her hands into fists and tried to pretend she hadn't been biting them at all. Hotshot glared right back at Mrs. Higgins for a long moment, but the camp director had a particularly steady and piercing gaze, and eventually Hotshot lost the staring contest and gave up guiltily. Shakes looked downright miserable, and Sarah was nervous, but suddenly... hopeful.

She might get to go home. She didn't want to be in trouble, she didn't want to have to explain to her parents about the prank war, but she might get to go home. For the rest of the summer. And probably be banned from camp for the rest of her life. And the only possible downside she could think of was not getting to see Jack anymore, and even that was worth it. Though given how close he and David seemed to be, she doubted she'd never hear from him again...

But she knew better than to look hopeful. She didn't want Mrs. Higgins to realize it would be a reward, not a punishment.

Mrs. Higgins glared at them and finally continued. "However, as Chancey has been kind enough to mention, while we all know full well who has been responsible for these pranks, none of them have been witnessed. So while there will be punishment—I can not take this lightly, girls—I will not be sending anyone home. This time. But one more screw up, and you're gone. Is that understood?"

In response she got vaguely affirmative mumbles and nods from the campers. Sarah felt her heart sink slightly; she really didn't want to stay at camp. She'd never wanted to be there to begin with.

"Obviously as I'm not a parent, I can't ground you—but I can pull you from activities," Mrs. Higgins continued. "It seems to me that to make up for the inconvenience this causes the staff and each other, you ought to be willing to work with the camp staff. Ms. Lynn, Ms. Kay; you two will spend the next three days assisting the stable and barn staff; Ms. Jacobs, Ms. Lewins, you two will spend the next three days assisting the kitchen staff. After that, assuming no more incidents have taken place, you will all be allowed to return to activities as usual.

"To help avoid any temptation, we will also be rearranging several of the bunk assignments—tomorrow. I'm not going to wake any of your far better behaved peers because of the four of you. Miss Jacobs, Miss Kay, you two will be staying in the infirmary tonight until your bunk has been cleaned. And you two—" she glared especially hard at Smurf and Hotshot, as Sarah realized for the first time she had no idea what her bunk mates' actual names were, "...will return to your bunk now.

"I am warning the four of you, though. I will not tolerate any more of this nonsense. Is that clear?"

Another round of nodding and mumbling, and she sighed. "Then you two will go to back to your cabin—straight back—and you two will go get beds made up upstairs."

She glared at them for another second and then stood aside and gestured at the door to the office, and watched the four girls scuttle out.

As Sarah found the sheets Triage had dug out for her, she found herself even more depressed. She had to spend the night on the uncomfortable infirmary bed; she didn't get to go home for the summer, and instead she had to do kitchen work for the next three days. Irritated and depressed, she finally lay down to sleep, or at least, to sulk until she fell asleep.

As she stared at the ceiling through the dim light, waiting to sleep, she found herself wondering how this had happened, and whose fault it was. And then abruptly, she knew.

It was all Blink's fault.

When Sarah fell asleep, she was not a happy camper.

[End Chapter Sixteen]
Chapter Seventeen: Beautiful Schemers