Chapter Seventeen: Beautiful Schemers

Sarah woke up far earlier than she'd have liked, though not by choice. It was barely six in the morning when Triage shook her and Shakes awake, told them to get ready and head out for their assigned punishment. Groggily, she made her way to the dining hall, and let herself into the kitchen.

A scary old man was yelling at the kitchen staff, full of people she'd never actually met. The workers didn't seem to take him too seriously, though. There were four of them, and they all stopped and stared as Sarah walked in, followed a minute later by Smurf.

"So you're the two girls Mrs. Higgins has... foisted on me," the scary old man grumbled. "Just do what I tell you and stay out of the way of people who know what they're doing and we'll get along fine." He glared at them, leaving them both with the distinct impression that 'get along fine,' meant little more than he wouldn't actively scream at them very often.

Breakfast was pancakes, which required the mass production of batter, which meant people crowded together measuring and mixing and cooking. Sarah and Smurf found themselves shoved together, Smurf pouring in flour to a batter as Smurf ran an oversized mixer.

Which didn't work out very well.

"Would you just hold the damn bowl in one place?" Smurf yelled.

"I am holding the bowl in one place, if you'd just pour into it and not on the goddamn counter—"

"Would you both shut up?!" One of the chief kitchen assistants angrily waved a batter-coated spatula at them. "And stop wasting ingredients!"

"Yeah, Smurf," Sarah muttered.

"Bite me," Smurf answered and stepped on her foot.

Sarah glared and they went back to working as the other kitchen workers glared at them.

*

David groaned as they walked to breakfast. "This week sucks."

"Stop whining, crybaby," Skittery said, rolling his eyes. "Hey, hey, Blink. What about Crybaby? We need to get him some nickname already, it's weird that there's someone in the bunk without one."

"Skittery, would you give it up? He's immune to nicknames," Blink answered.

"Nah, we'll find him one."

The second bell was chiming. David couldn't believe he had to be at the dining hall at the second bell. That meant actually get up at the first. But it was his week as a hopper—and worse still, the counselor at his table was Morris Delancey. So he had to be at every meal early and deal with one of the nastiest counselors at camp. But apparently this week a lot of the Senior campers had been drafted into service as hoppers, as Blink and Skittery were also required to be there early, and so were two kids in Ferguson.

"It's only for a week," Blink consoled, as they all made their way inside the dining hall and to the kitchen, where all the dishes were set to be brought out to tables. Blink's eye opened a little wider when he saw Sarah angrily shoving glasses into groups of nine on the pick up table.

"Hey," he said, grinning.

She scowled at him.

"Uh, what's... up?"

"Thanks to your idiotic pranks, I have KP for three days. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry," he answered quickly.

"Shut up, Sarah!" Smurf yelled from the next table over, separating silverware. "God, take some responsibility for yourself."

"Yeah? Well if it wasn't for your stupid ant prank—"

"It was Hotshot's idea and—"

"Would you both shut up and do work?!" one of the other kitchen staffers yelled. "God, you can't cook, if you can't even sort silverware—"

"Yeah, yeah, working!" Smurf yelled back and made a face.

Blink smirked. "Have fun, Smurf." He picked up his group of glasses. "See you in a bit, Sarah."

She rolled his eyes and Smurf scowled as he turned around. David, standing in line behind Blink, gave her a strange look. "You have a problem with Blink?" he asked Sarah.

"It's his fault I'm here."

"Uh... not really—"

"Shut up, David."

"Fine." He picked up his cups. "Hey, Smurf."

"Hey, Dave." She shot a look at Sarah. "It's gotta suck to deal with her year round, God, how do you do it?"

He laughed. "Us? We're not related," he answered. Smurf laughed and Sarah glowered, and he made his way back to the dining room to set up. A few counselors had come in; campers were absolutely not allowed in until the bell, but staff members often came in beforehand.

Jack was sitting at his own table, which was being set by one of the girls at camp, drinking a cup of coffee and staring blankly out the window at the lake. David smiled a little bit as he went on his way.

Smurf had taken over for Sarah handing out dishes. She was glaring angrily at Blink, who was laughing. The reason was pretty clear; Smurf was now wearing a typical cafeteria hairnet, her curly hair sticking out, random blue strands sticking to her forehead. "Swear to God, I'll spit on your waffles," she muttered and shoved a stack of plates at him.

Blink just chuckled. David raised an eyebrow.

"It's not like this was exactly a fashion statement on my part!" she snapped.

"I just want to see Sarah wearing it is all." Smurf obligingly stepped out of his way and he glanced into the back, and sure enough, her hair was tucked up in hairnet as well. He grinned to himself. "That's a good look, Sarah," he called.

"Bite me," was the snarled answer.

David grinned a little as he let himself out again.

*

There were three interesting announcements at breakfast. The first was that partners would be announced for the camper-counselor tennis tournament, which would take place through the next week; second, that the end of the week would be the summer's first sailing races; and finally, that the end of the week was also the first of two summer dances.

Snitch grinned at the first announcement, and Blink grinned at the second. At the third, Mush groaned and tried to sink into the dining hall bench, stared down at his empty plate, and refused to look up, lest he accidentally make eye contact with... Well, anyone. Dance week did nothing but make his stalkers worse.

They were dismissed and everyone began to file out of the dining hall. Jack searched out David as he began to walk off, called after him, and jogged to catch up. David stopped and waited for him, and Jack touched his shoulder unthinkingly as they fell into step—then dropped his hand. "Sorry," he apologized quickly.

"It's... It's okay," David said. He bit his lip slightly; he hadn't minded when Jack had reached out for him and wished it didn't bother Jack, either... Part of him wondered if he should mind, but even though he knew how Jack felt, he trusted Jack to understand the situation, and anyway, it was kind of flattering that Jack liked him. No one ever had before, and Jack was definitely the sort of guy who he'd have liked, if he'd liked guys. But he pushed that thought out of his mind, almost before it formed. "So what's up, Jack?"

"Just, uh. Hey, you wanna be my partner for camper-counselor?"

"I thought those were randomly chosen?"

"Yeah, you're supposed to think that, but counselors always choose." Jack grinned his slightly too large to be real smile, then it faltered. "I mean—uh—I'm not asking 'cause—'cause you know. You're just my friend, is all, so—"

"Yeah, I mean—if you want me to. I kind of suck at tennis." He shrugged.

"You can't be too bad."

"I really can. But if you want me to... I mean, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll get our names down on the list."

"Okay." David looked over at him and sort of smiled. "Jack, seriously, we don't have to be... awkward. I, uh... I mean, we're friends still, so you can..." David shrugged. "I'm just saying it's okay."

A flicker of a smile crossed Jack's face. "Davey, that's..." A thought occurred to him. "Hey. How many people call you Davey anyway? Or is it... David? Dave?"

"Any of the above... I guess most people call me David, people at school call me Dave usually... I never really thought about it. Mostly it's just the people I'm pretty close to who call me Davey... Not many at all."

Jack nodded, started to speak, stopped, then finally said, "Okay. Just wondering..." He coughed slightly. "Dave."

They were past Jack's bunk now, on the way up the hill to David's, and David paused. "Davey, Jack." He smiled. "You can call me Davey."

Jack tried his hardest not to grin at David, and almost shyly turned away. "I should go... herd the kids back to the bunk and then head up to riding."

"Yeah, okay." David paused. "I seriously suck at tennis, Jack."

"I'm sure you're fine. Go to tennis for an hour or two today. Learn the basics."

"Yeah, trust me. It'll take more than an hour or two to do that."

"Well... It's just a game anyway, for fun. So you do what you can, and we'll have fun." He self-consciously patted David's arm again. "Anyway, I'll see you at lunch, Davey."

David kind of smiled as they parted ways and he continued up to his bunk. He liked the way his name sounded when Jack said it, and he liked the way Jack touched his shoulder. It definitely beat being awkward.

*

Trixie was taking an afternoon to go sailing. Which wasn't entirely unheard of—all the kids in the theater were eventually forced to go do other activities, supposedly at least three a day. Which didn't happen nearly as often as it was supposed to, since most of the theater people liked to stay there almost all day, but with the tennis tournament and the sailing races coming up, people didn't mind so much, as it helped them get in ready.

And anyway, Trixie had promised Smurf she'd go sailing. The sailboats used in the race were two person rigs, and she was usually Smurf's partner in the races, though Smurf always did almost all of the work herself. But Trixie at least had to prepare.

The beach was crowded, while the various boating counselors tried to keep everyone busy, under control, and out of trouble. Dutchy asked her about three questions to make sure she wasn't going to drown herself, then pointed at Blink, who was sitting on one of the sailboats, waiting for a partner. She scowled slightly—knowing Smurf from home lead to some of her rather extreme views of Blink rubbing off—but made her way through the sand.

Blink rolled his eye. "Ught, not you. You're almost as bad as her."

"And we're gonna kick your butt, so deal with it." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I'm just here for an hour, while Mush is at tennis."

"Stalker," he muttered, and they stood up and they began to assemble the folded down sailboat, and wade into the water with it. "You know he's not gonna... come around, right?"

"We'll see." She glowered, as he dropped the rudder into place as they made their way out of the shallows. "He's more likely to come around than Sarah is."

"Hey!" Blink yelped, then hissed, "How do you know, anyway?"

"Everyone knows. You're obvious. And yeah, helping her against Smurf and Hotshot was kind of a blatant move."

"Funny, I did that because I don't like Smurf. Not because I like Sarah."

"Whatever you say." She shrugged. "Tack?" she added, glancing at the luffing sail.

"Yeah... Ready?"

"Yeah."

Blink reached for the rudder and turned; Trixie ducked as the boat shifted directions, the sail filled out, and the boom—the large beam attached to the bottom of the sail—swung around over her head. With the sail full, they picked up speed.

"You know," Trixie mused, "you could help me."

"Help you want?" he asked, playing with one of the ropes.

"With Mush. Getting him to go to the dance with me." She grinned. "You could always put in a good word."

"Why would I want to do that?" he answered, looking kind of bemused.

"To be nice?"

"Nice? To you? You're Smurf's best friend."

"It's not like I'm her. And you're Mush's best friend, come on. Please?"

"Why should I?"

Trixie glanced around, like she thought someone might somehow be able to hear her, despite the fact that they were zipping around the lake, further away than any of the other sailboats. "I could throw the race."

Blink's eyebrows shot up. "You could what?"

"If you get Mush to go to the dance with me, I can mess up Smurf."

"I can't believe this." He leaned back on the tiny space of the deck. "You didn't just offer that."

"Oh, come on. I've had a crush on him for three years, please?"

"You just offered to sell out your best friend!"

"For a good cause!" she answered indignantly. "Anyway, you wanted a reason to help me. That's a reason."

"I seriously don't believe you." He shook his head slightly.

"Well, do you want me to or not?"

"No!" he yelped. "Look—for one, nothing will ever convince Mush to say yes to you. He just doesn't like you like that. You're a freaky stalker. And second, when I beat Smurf—which I will—I want to do it fair and square."

"Your loss." She shrugged. "We're gonna kick your butt."

"We'll see."

"We will. We did last year."

"Only at the second race—I won the first one. And both the year before that."

"And we won both the year before that."

"That's four years ago—it doesn't even count now."

"Neither does three years ago, then."

"Fine." He glared at her. "And you're not going to win."

"Wanna bet? You two are evenly matched, and I'm here practicing, and you don't even know who your partner is yet—Mush is gonna be doing tennis instead."

He scowled. She had a point.

"And anyway," she continued, reaching up to fix her pigtails, "Smurf brought her good luck charm."

"Right, I'm terrified. What is it, a rabbit's foot?"

"Ha." Trixie scoffed at him. "It's a real good luck charm, not some stupid thing."

"Yeah, I'm so sure."

"You will be."

He rolled his eye again. "So what is it, then? Some charm doll a gypsy put a spell on?" he mocked.

"It is a doll, and it's none of your business."

"A doll?" he repeated, then laughed. "Yeah, I'm scared of some doll."

"You should be. The summers she had it with her were the summers we won. Every time."

"Because of some stupid doll, yeah, that's what it was. What, does she sleep with it at night?"

"So what if she does?" Trixie scoffed. "Just you wait."

"She does!" He began laughing hysterically again. "Oh my god, Smurf sleeps with a doll at night, and no one told me? That's..." He trailed off, laughing, and Trixie glared, then smirked.

"Overboard drill!" she declared and grabbed the rudder, ducked quickly and yanked it around. As the boom swung over her head the boat jerked suddenly; Blink lost his balance and toppled off the deck into the lake, then came up, sputtering, clutching his life jacket.

"You suck," he declared, and began to swim after the boat.

"We have to do a capsizing drill any. Come on." She sighed, took a deep breath, and slid off the boat and into the water.

*

She was in a rotten mood to begin with. The kitchen was hot and stuffy, as they cooked dinner in the mid-afternoon heat. Kloppman, the head cook, had gotten increasingly cranky as the day went on and his favorite targets were Smurf and Sarah, the interlopers, and the kitchen staff wasn't much nicer. It had been a long, awful day and really, Sarah just wanted to go for a quick evening swim, maybe stare at Jack a little bit—especially if he was swimming too, as the thought of a wet, glistening Jack was definitely pleasant—and go to bed.

Or better yet, Sarah just wanted to go home. Jack or no Jack, home was better than here. Almost anything was better than here. But before she could even leave, they had to get through dinner and clean up, and that was another two hours at least.

By the time the hoppers arrived to begin setting up for dinner, Sarah was in the most foul mood she could ever remember being in. And when Blink came in, grinning and with his hair still slightly damp from a post-activity shower, she was definitely not in the mood to deal with him.

"Hey, Sarah," he greeted her cheerfully.

"Hi." She definitely wasn't cheerful in return.

"How was your day?"

"Here." She shoved his tray of dishes at him.

"Okaaaaay." He smiled again, which she found inexplicably irritating. "So, uh... Not such a good day, I take it?"

"There are people in line behind you," she answered.

"Oh—sorry!" He stepped to the side but didn't leave. She glowered. She just wanted him to leave her alone already. "So I was thinking..." He trailed off, and then smiled. "How long are you on KP?"

"Two more days."

"So you'll be out by the dance!"

"The what?"

"Oh... Right. You missed that at breakfast." He set his tray down. "There's a dance at the end of the week. So I was thinking, if your punishment is over by then..."

She said nothing, just glared, and he continued.

"Just... I dunno, you wanna go with me or something?"

There was a long moment of silence, and it was like everyone in the kitchen held their breath. And finally, Sarah broke the silence.

"No, I don't want to go with you!" she yelled. "I don't want to spend time with you, I don't even like you! You and your stupid ideas got me in trouble, thanks to you I can't even sleep in my own bed until it's disinfected, and you still keep following me around! Are you stupid? Are you actually blind in both eyes? Because everyone else in the entire camp has noticed that I just don't like you!"

There was another quiet.

Blink picked up his tray and walked out of the kitchen without speaking another word, and all of the kitchen workers and all of the campers waiting in line just kind of stared, wordlessly.

Finally, as she went back to spooning some unidentifiable kind of meat into casserole dishes for the tables, Smurf commented, "Wow, Sarah. That was harsh. And that's coming from me."

             Sarah glared at her. "It's none of your business."

"I mean seriously—wow. I've been trying to find a way to hurt him that badly for four years, and you managed it in under a minute. That's kind of impressive."

"Shut up."

"Okay. I'm just saying... That was harsh."

*

Though with the evening, some of the excess heat melted away, there was an evening swim anyway. But the day had been long and hot, and even the swimmers were fairly subdued. Specs and Dutchy sat side by side on the dock, watching everything, but for a change there wasn't a lot of horseplay going on.

Hotshot, Smurf, Sarah and Shakes had been informed they were banned from free swim, too, so most of the usual trouble couldn't have happened. Hotshot couldn't provoke Sarah. Smurf and Blink couldn't fight. And Sarah wasn't there to fight with Hotshot.

Blink was also sitting on the dock, ankles in the water, a t-shirt on to indicate that he had no intentions of swimming, either. He just stared contemplatively off at the lake.

Free swim was almost over when Mush finally pulled himself out of the water and sat on the dock next to her. "C'mon, man," he said quietly. "She's just a girl. It's not a big deal."

"It's not a big deal when you've got every girl in camp after you," Blink answered.

Mush shrugged. "Seriously, you can have 'em."

"None of them would want me." He pulled his knees up to his chest, curled his toes slightly around the edge of the dock. "It's okay, Mush. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, well... How about I just sit here for awhile with you, okay? Or maybe you could come in, it's a good way to calm down."

"I am calm."

"You're sulking."

"Give me awhile to sulk."

"Okay." Mush shrugged, and leaned back on the dock, supporting himself with his arms and staring up at the sky. "Come on, look at the bright side. You can still beat the crap out of Smurf in the race."

"Yeah..." Blink sighed, then his eye suddenly lit up and he fell into a regular sitting position. "Yeah, I can. Thanks, Mush."

"Uh... No problem. You okay?"

"Fine, really. Go swim."

"Uh... Okay." Mush shrugged and let himself back into the water, and Blink watched as he swam to the other side of the area, then glanced around for the familiar set of pigtails and tried not to smirk as he called out, "Hey... Trixie!"

[End Chapter Seventeen]
Chapter Eighteen: Playing the Game