Chapter Eleven
The ringing of the bell comes too early the next morning.
“Qué cono?” Isa groans, rubbing his eyes. I peek at him through squinted eyes. He climbed in with me the night before, like it was a given, but we kept things pretty PG. I’d lose the entire Bible Belt if I put out on the first night.
Even rumpled from sleep, Isa is gorgeous. He throws an arm back over me and snuggles in close. “I don’t feel so good,” he mumbles.
Me neither. There is a rancid taste in my mouth, and my head feels like it’s being cleaved in half.
““What time is it?” Harmony asks, her voice cracking.
“Too early,” moans Damian from under a pillow.
“Morning everyone.” The light in the bunkhouse darkens as Kei’s frame fills the door. “I made breakfast, if anyone is hungry.”
What’s with this guy? He was hitting the punch as hard as anyone else—no one is that nice. Then again, he hasn’t exposed me as the liar that I am. Maybe I shouldn’t hold his poor taste in footwear against him.
“Bro, you’re a legend,” Giovanni says, swinging his legs over the side of his top bunk and hopping down.
We dress quickly, loop our mics around our necks, and head for the Mess Hall.
The smell of bacon and butter hits me before I even get to the door.
Inside, along the back counter, there are plates piled high with stacks of golden pancakes, bacon and sausages, and bowls of berries, whipped cream, and maple syrup.
“Letter K! Letter K!” Damian starts the chant and we all join in as we fill our plates, hoping to feed our hangovers into submission. Kei’s cheeks redden, and he smiles at the floor.
“Good morning, campers!” Gabby calls from behind a large box she’s carrying.
“Girls on one side and boys on the other, please!” Gabby sets the box down on the counter, and watches over us like a mother hen as we shift, directing all of the girls to squeeze in at one table.
“Cheers to Kei for preparing this amazing breakfast,” she says, pulling a bottle from the box and holding it aloft.
“To Kei!” we all respond, clinking our plastic glasses of juice over the middle of the table. I glance over at Kei. His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. I raise my glass in his direction.
“Just don’t fill up, because I have these delicious smoothies from our sponsor, Protein Period.
I want to see you drinking them, and talking about how amazing they are, and how they have forty grams of protein per serving, okay?
” Gabby hands a bottle to each of us. “Also, we need you to be spilling the tea on your relationships! Harmony, you lead that conversation for the girls, and Damian, you do it for the guys, okay? Let’s have another amazing day at Camp Couple-Up! ”
After a feeble round of cheering, I tuck into my breakfast. The pancakes are delicious, crispy around the edges and fluffy on the inside. And bacon and sausages? What am I, a queen or something?
“Oh wow, have you tried this Protein Period smoothie yet?” Harmony’s smile is slightly pained. “It’s really, wow, that flavour is really something different.”
“It’s so—” Trina pauses to swallow. “Thick.” Flecks of the smoothie coat her teeth.
“Must be all that protein. Forty grams per bottle!” Harmony’s eyes are glassy as if she’s fighting not to laugh.
I take a sip. It has the flavour and consistency of poured cement. “I’ve never tasted anything like this before,” I say, biting back a grimace. “What a unique experience.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harmony’s shoulders start to shake.
“Ew, that is vile,” Sue-Ellen says, dribbling the grey sludge out of her mouth and back into her bottle.
“I don’t know, I think it’s pretty good,” says Valeria, tipping the bottle back. This breaks Harmony. She starts to howl with laughter, and within a moment, we’re all laughing. Our mouths are ringed with grey residue, like we’ve been drinking some strange wine.
Just when the laughter starts to die down, Sue-Ellen shudders, and says “I’ve had pukes that taste better than that.” And we start up all over again.
I glance at Gabby, and for the first time, she’s not smiling. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her jaw is set in a firm line. She strides over to our table and leans in. “Drink it,” she hisses. “We cannot piss off our sponsors.”
Gabby seems to have surprised even herself with her outburst. She smoothes her hair down and backs up. “Enjoy your breakfast, ladies,” she says, forcing the smile back to her face.
Harmony and I share a look before she changes the channel.
“So, Cleo, how are things going with Isa?”
I wipe my mouth and put down my fork. “Really well,” I say, beaming. “The chemistry between us is insane. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other last night.” I glance at Sue-Ellen, but her face is impassive.
“You guys looked pretty hot and heavy at the party,” Harmony says, taking a tentative sip of her smoothie.
“Aren’t you worried that’s all he’ll want from you, though?
” Sue-Ellen asks with mock concern. “I’d be careful.
There’s more to a relationship than just a physical connection.
” The girls all murmur in agreement, while I take several gulps of my smoothie.
I have to concentrate to swallow it, which distracts me from the sting of Sue-Ellen’s statement.
“What about you, Sue-Ellen? Is there anything there between you and Garrett?” Harmony says.
Sue-Ellen pulls a face. “No,” she says, emphatically shaking her head. “He’s nice, but I’m not feeling it. Actually,” she says, eyeing me, “I had a really good chat with Isa last night. It’s weird, I feel like I can talk to him about anything, like I’ve known him forever.”
I take a deep breath in through my nose.
“You don’t mind if I keep getting to know him, do you, Cleo?”
“Of course not,” I say, probably too brightly. “That’s what we’re here for, right?” I drain the rest of my smoothie. It’s gritty and warm, like liquid chicken livers.
Thankfully, Harmony turns the attention to Trina, who says Kei is sweet but she’s not sure if there’s a spark.
I’m only half listening. Sue-Ellen has bested me.
I shouldn’t have gotten physical with Isa, especially now that Sue-Ellen has pointed it out, essentially telling the audience what to think about it.
I’m going to have to walk it back with him, actually get to know him, so I can take back control of the narrative.
The problem is, I just don’t care what his favourite food is, or what his childhood was like, or what his hopes and dreams are. But people have to believe I do.
This is harder than I thought.
After breakfast, it’s Gym Time, so I take advantage of the opportunity for another head-clearing swim.
I slip into the Bunkhouse to put on my bikini, and I start to jog down to the lake, but I have to stop on the path to breathe through a stomach cramp.
Don’t they say you shouldn’t swim for two hours after eating? I won’t go very deep.
Unlike yesterday, I find the vast emptiness of the lake relieving. I plunge in with no hesitation. I push myself, thrashing through the water, until my muscles give up. I last a little longer than yesterday. If I get stronger physically every day, maybe I’ll get stronger mentally, too.
I’m tired, but I’m not ready to go back yet, so I turn onto my back to float, letting the gentle bob of the waves lull me.
I think of my mom. I wonder if she’s eating.
I imagine her heating up a frozen meal in the microwave.
She would stand back to prevent her body from absorbing the machine’s harmful rays.
Is she doing the dishes, or are they scattered around the house, waiting to be pillaged by some pest?
Will she take the garbage to the curb, or will she leave it to rot under the sink?
I lean my head back, submerging my face for a moment. The cold acts like an anesthetic to my worries, freezing them out before they can plant themselves and grow. I float, soothed by the nothingness in my brain, until I’m jolted out of it by a wrenching cramp in my stomach.
Oh shit.
I swim back, through the pain. The cramp subsides just as I make it far enough that I can plunge my feet into the spongy floor of the lake.
Another cramp wracks me as I stumble onto the beach. I shiver as a cold chill of realization snakes down my spine.
I need a toilet. Now.
Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.
I clench my butt cheeks, sending up a silent prayer to let it pass. I have to get back to the Bunkhouse, but if I move, it’s over.
I waddle a few feet forward, whimpering. Another cramp doubles me over. Could I just go right here? I could cover it up, no one would ever have to know. But there are cameras everywhere, and one is pointing right at me. Imagine that on your TV screen.
My brow is tingling with sweat. I hobble another few paces forward, and mercifully, the cramp lets go.
I take off running. I make it almost to the end of the beach path, but I’m struck again right before I get to the field.
I drop to my knees, squeezing my ass together so hard you could juice a lemon between my cheeks.
The thought makes me laugh, a gaspy sob-like giggle, and I’m once again released from the grip of the cramp.
I speed walk through the field, averting my gaze to avoid eye contact with my fellow campers who are all hanging around the gym area.
But I can’t help but clock Isa. He’s with Sue-Ellen again, admiring her form (from behind) as she does squats. Fuck.