Chapter 7 Never Wake a Girl up at an Ungodly Hour #2
Before coming to summer camp, I told Nina I was hoping to win Daniel back.
She was delighted to hear it, seemingly unbothered by Daniel’s earlier behavior.
It stung for a short moment that she wasn’t angry about it anymore, but her approval made me feel a little bit better about my plan.
Now, though, I wish I’d never told her about it.
Lately we haven’t had a single conversation that didn’t end with her bringing him up.
The subject has exhausted me to the point where all I tell her now is that we went on a walk, just the two of us, a few days ago.
She sends a few exclamation marks in response, and then I tell her I have to go help my cabinmate with something.
Before she can reply, I make my phone’s screen go dark, returning to the here and now of a quiet cabin 4, where no one actually needs my help with anything.
None of us are asleep, but Veronica is tapping away on her phone just like I was only seconds ago, and Sloane is reading a book on her e-reader, while Sierra disappeared to go for a “short run” over an hour ago.
I don’t get her. We are moving literally all day, and yet the very moment we’re given time to rest—at 9:00 p.m., I might add—she decides the perfect use of that free time is to move some more.
Just the thought of it makes my sore legs ache.
A groan breaks through the silence, and I instinctively think to apologize for it when I realize who made the sound: Veronica.
“Someone please tell my sister to stop watching so many romance movies. They’re definitely rotting her brain,” she says, putting her phone away as well.
“Like, she just sent me pictures of herself sobbing over 10 Things I Hate About You. Not only is it a typical romantic comedy, but it’s one she’s seen a thousand times by now.
” Veronica stares into the distance, her face drawn in a frown that means she’s either disgusted, confused, or perhaps both at once.
Sloane puts down her e-reader for a moment, asking what I’m wondering as well. “Why does that upset you?”
“Are you kidding me?” Veronica instantly replies, her green eyes wide, as if she can’t believe we even have to ask.
“Movies like that seriously lack depth and originality. It’s always the same: A girl meets some guy, they fall in love, they mess up, and oh!
Wait! They make up with some spectacular grand gesture, and everything is absolutely perfect forever and always!
” She rolls her eyes. “Spoiler alert: That’s not how real life works. ”
I shift on my bunk bed carefully, but the wood beneath me still creaks a little.
As if my accidentally making a sound means I have something to say, Veronica and Sloane both look up at me expectantly.
“No,” I agree softly, “of course that’s not how real life works.
I don’t think anybody is claiming it does. It’s just a common misconception that—”
The cabin door opens, causing my voice to falter.
“Hi,” Sierra says upon seeing we’re all looking at her. She’s a bit out of breath. She takes off her headphones and shoes and, without another word, climbs onto her own bunk bed. There, she lays herself down on her back, breathing in and out, in and out.
I’m still focusing on the rhythm of her breathing when Sloane breaks through the silence. “What were you going to say, Ellie?” she asks me gently.
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “It really wasn’t important. Don’t worry about it.”
Veronica frowns. “Bullshit,” she says. “I want to hear what exactly this misconception is, so bring it on.”
She keeps looking at me, urging me to finish what I was saying, and so does Sloane. I bring my gaze to my hands and allow myself to ramble.
“I just meant to say that the end of a movie isn’t the end of the characters’ lives per se, you know?
Whether you give a movie a happy ending or a sad one or something in between, realistically there’s always going to be ups and downs after it.
And as for rom-coms being cliché and lacking depth…
I feel like people just want an excuse to look down on the genre.
Sure, rom-coms can be cliché, and sometimes some more depth really wouldn’t hurt, but that’s an issue with the writing of that movie—not with the genre as a whole.
If someone personally doesn’t like rom-coms or, I don’t know, fun, maybe they should just say that instead. ” I shrug. “That’s all.”
It’s silent in the room for a bit after that, but not in my head.
I start internally cursing myself. Truly, why did I have to say all that?
Nobody actually cares about my opinion, and now the people I’m supposed to befriend think I’m weird and talk too much and will regret ever asking me to speak up and—
“I hadn’t thought about it like that.” Veronica nods slowly, considering my words. “Yeah, you definitely have a point there. From now on, I’ll just have to tell people I hate fun.”
She says it with a completely straight face, but her words make Sloane burst into laughter.
“I’m sorry!” Sloane wheezes, tears quickly starting to gather in the corners of her eyes as she keeps laughing and laughing and laughing.
“It’s just that—” she tries, then stops to laugh some more.
“We’ve only known each other for a few days,” she eventually says, “but that’s the most Veronica thing anyone’s ever said. ”
By the time she gets the words out, I’ve stopped holding in my chuckles, mostly because Sloane’s laughter is so contagious. Veronica just looks between the two of us. “I feel like I’m being laughed at right now,” she says, but a small smile is tugging at the corners of her mouth, too.
I shake my head. “No, no, don’t worry,” I reassure her, trying to calm myself down. “Anyway, I assume I don’t have to ask you this, Veronica”—another laugh escapes me—“but, um, Sloane, do you like rom-coms?”
A part of me expects her to give me a short answer and then end the conversation, but instead she says, “Duh!” and picks up her e-reader again with a smile.
“I am literally in the middle of reading one right now, and there’s dozens more on this thing.
” She taps the screen of the e-reader and shows us the books in her expansive library.
Most are indeed romance novels if I’m correctly judging them by their cute covers—something I most definitely do.
“Oh, this one’s my favorite, though,” Sloane lets us know. Then she starts explaining what it’s about with so much passion that I have to hold myself back from grabbing the e-reader out of her hands and reading the book myself.
“You guys have to read it,” she finishes, at which I promise I will and Veronica says, “I think it’s best for both of us if I don’t, actually.”
Sloane studies her, then shrugs. “Okay, fair enough. What’s your favorite book, then? Some dark, depressive tragedy, I assume?” she says, wiggling her eyebrows with a smile.
“Eh, I’m more of a nonfiction type of reader, actually. So unless you think life is a dark, depressive tragedy, then no.”
“Okay, that’s really cool, though. I’ve barely read any nonfiction,” Sloane replies before looking back up at me. “What about you, Ellie?”
“Oh, I read a lot of romance as well, but I’m too indecisive to have one absolute favorite,” I say, almost waving it away.
But there’s something in the way Sloane is looking at me, with her open and kind face, that gives me the courage to elaborate.
“Every time I finish a book I love, it’s my favorite for a while, until I read another one, and so on. ”
I show them my recent reads, after which we go through our reading histories together, comparing what we’ve read and going on about books we hate, love, or still want to read.
Sometimes we all agree with one another, but more often we don’t, which makes it all the more fun.
I even end up climbing out of my bunk bed to join Veronica and Sloane on the floor so that talking to each other is a bit easier.
And also so I can be in the front row to watch how Veronica’s face scrunches in playful discomfort as Sloane narrates a kissing scene from her current read.
Sierra is quiet the entire time, but even so, I catch her constantly looking over at us from the safety of her bed, her face unreadable—as always.
Maybe she’s judging us in the hopes that we stop talking, or maybe she’s trying to think of a way to join in on our fun.
I’m not quite sure, but I think of asking her if she has a love for books or movies or anything, just to make sure she doesn’t feel left out.
But when she catches me looking back at her, she quickly moves her gaze elsewhere, so I leave her alone.
I make myself focus on Sloane and Veronica and our rambles instead of the mystery that is the way Sierra Levine feels about, well, anything.
The three of us stay up far too late, the exhaustion I was feeling earlier nowhere to be found as the conversation flows and flows and flows.
For once, I let it.