Chapter Seventeen
So Van Gogh
Mallory
The sun was just dipping below the hills surrounding camp. The girls in G7A were winding down for the day. The smell of nail polish and fruity shampoo filled the air. Zoe was painting zebra stripes on her toe nails while Mallory caught up on The Accidental Duchess. Things were going poorly for Lydia. After learning that Lydia had married him under a false name, the Duke of Blackmore was pursuing an annulment to their wedding. He didn’t yet know that he was the only thing saving her from the gallows. Without his name for protection, she was going to be hauled to Scotland Yard for murder of the duke’s real fiancée, not that she’d done it. At this point, no one would believe it was self-defense. Or care. The only thing that could save her was the duke’s love.
Mallory couldn’t take the tension. Lydia’s situation hit too close to home—not the gallows part, but the bit about getting dumped because she was pretending to be someone else. She suddenly wanted to see Ben, if only to reassure herself that everything was still okay between them. There was just enough time before lights out to catch him.
Even though she hated herself for it a little—she’d never thought of herself as the needy, insecure type—she wished he’d ask her to the inter-camp dance already. It was the day after tomorrow and she was fixated. They weren’t in the “friend zone” obviously. She had never made out with any of her friends, but it’s not like she’d feel comfortable changing her Facebook status to “In a relationship with Ben Iron Cloud.” Relationship-wise, they were in the gray zone, a classic Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley dilemma.
Mallory looked at Zoe and said, “I’m going to run down to the docks and see if Ben and George are still there.” They’d tossed a fishing line in while she got changed after the run.
“Mind if I come? If you get Ben alone, I’ll make an excuse and get out of there.”
Mallory smiled. “Thanks. I’m dying for him to ask me to the dance.”
On the way down to the docks, Zoe offered her usual practical wisdom. “Maybe he assumes that you’re going together. It’s not like prom or anything. It’s just camp.”
Before Mallory could answer, she saw something that made her gasp in shock. At first, she thought she was seeing things. Why would her sister be at camp? It made no sense. Blake shouldn’t be here. If anyone caught them together, they’d both be ruined. It would be like a collision of matter and antimatter. Total annihilation. She remembered that much from like every sci-fi movie she’d ever seen.
But at camp she was. Blake was standing on the path, looking overdressed and lost.
Zoe saw her, too. “What?” She looked between Mallory and Blake and shook her head. “Um. You have a twin?”
Mallory nodded mutely in answer. How could she even explain this? A real friend would have mentioned a twin sister, not to mention used her real name. She braced herself for whatever her sister was about to say and walked slowly toward her. Zoe followed, seemingly transfixed by the unfolding drama. “Blake, what are you doing here?”
When Blake caught sight of Mallory, she exclaimed, “Thank God! I was so fucking lost. I couldn’t figure out which cabin you were in. Where have you been?” She said this as if Mallory had been expecting her.
“What are you doing here? If anyone sees you… How did you get here?”
Blake shrugged like it was no big deal. “I took an Uber.”
Zoe, who had been watching, looked at Mallory. “What is going on?”
Before Mallory could figure out how to explain the situation, Blake held out her hand and said, “I’m Blake.” She gestured to Mallory and said, “You’ve already met Mallory.” She said her name like a dirty word.
With a furrowed brow, Zoe said, “So, this is like Parent Trap?”
Mallory whispered, “I’m so sorry. I’ll explain.” It seemed lame, but at the moment, that’s all she had. She would share all the gory details after she figured out what was going on herself. At the moment, her own head was spinning. Why was Blake here? A month ago, Blake would have done anything to stay away from Camp Pine Ridge. Mallory remembered her sister sinking to her knees and wailing at the very thought of being sent to camp.
Blake explained. “I want to trade.”
It made no sense—Blake hated the outdoors. But then again, she liked to take everything good for herself. Blake always got the last piece of pizza, the top bunk, whatever thing it was that both of them wanted. Mallory always let Blake win because nothing ever mattered that much to her, but she didn’t want to give up camp. She took a deep breath and looked her sister straight in the eye.
“You can’t just change our agreement in the middle without telling me.”
“Why not? I got the instructor to give me the final exam in your math class early and I got like a hundred percent.” With a fake smile, she said, “Congratulations, Mallory! You aced algebra. That’s all you needed, right? And I saw pictures of you on the Camp Pine Ridge Tumblr. You are having way more fun than me.”
Mallory stood her ground. “I’m not leaving.” Camp Pine Ridge was sort of sucky in some ways, but there was something about the place. For one, it wasn’t boring. She felt relaxed and happy. She had the freedom to spread her wings and jump out of the nest. The fact that no one here cared whether she flew or fell was even better. She was free, plain and simple. Besides Kipper, all the counselors were too busy making out with each other to care what she did. Having no one give a crap was liberating. Plus, there was Zoe.
But mostly, there was Ben.
They had something really special, a connection she’d never felt with someone else. Sure, she was lying to him, but she hadn’t even gotten a chance to let their doomed relationship blossom yet. Everyone deserved a tragic teenage love affair.
With her agenda (stay at camp no matter the cost) firmly in place, the first step in successful negotiation, Mallory said, “So what are we going to do about it?”
Blake settled her hands on her hips and set her jaw in a look that Mallory knew meant business. In the history of Jones sister arguments, Mallory had never won. It was Blake: 1,000,000, Mallory: 0.
Blake announced, “Well, I’m not going anywhere, either.”
Zoe, who’d gotten up to speed on the whole situation said, “So you’ve been pretending to be your sister the whole time? Without telling me?” She looked at Mallory accusatorily. “I thought we were friends?”
Blake tapped her foot impatiently.
Mallory withered inside. “Zoe, I’m so sorry. When I agreed to this I didn’t imagine making friends or hurting anyone along the way. It sounded like a vacation from my life. Once I’d been here for a while, it seemed weird to bring it up.” She’d been dreading this moment since she arrived. It wasn’t just that she was lying about her name. She was playing the part of her sister. Zoe would probably find the real Mallory boring. But standing there next to her sister, Mallory realized something—she could never be Blake. She wasn’t a good enough actress. Zoe had liked her for her, at least mostly. She had been an amped-up Mallory, but she could never pull off Blake.
“Well, you should have.” Zoe held up her hand. “I get it. I just wish you’d told me. I love this kind of stuff. This is Kardashian-level drama.” Wisely, she thought better of that. “Well almost.”
Maybe it was just the stress, but Mallory was touched, like chin-quivering, almost-about-to-cry touched. Zoe was going to forgive her even though she’d never been truthful with her friend. She gave her friend a hug. “Thanks, Zo.”
“No, we’re not hugging yet. Save that for tomorrow.”
They only had a few minutes left before someone needed to be checked into the Chipmunk Bunk for lights out. Kipper had kept an extra close eye on Mallory after all of the drama, so sneaking in wouldn’t be an option.
Really, she needed her sister to leave. She was just starting to have a really good time as Blake. But there was no way her sister would survive more than a day or two at Camp Pine Ridge. She’d get bored and take an Uber back home by the end of the weekend probably. In the meantime, they’d just have to take turns being Blake.
That presented her with a couple of immediate problems.
First of all, she needed to figure out where to put Blake and fast. They absolutely couldn’t tell anyone that a second Jones sister had just arrived, not if she wanted to keep being Blake with Ben. That left them with a not-so-good option of sharing Blake’s spot at camp and identity.
Which meant they needed a second bed. Obviously, they couldn’t both stay in G7A. She could probably sleep in the boys’ bunk, given the level of supervision, but that seemed shady. There had to be an extra bunk somewhere…that’s when it hit her. It was such a perfect solution. There was an extra staff cabin that sat empty way on the edge of camp. Maybe it wasn’t up to code or they didn’t have that many staff members. Either way, it solved her problem. There was an extra bed there.
Because they were short on time, Mallory gave Blake instructions: 1) follow Zoe back to G7A, and 2) avoid Ben, who was also camping at Pine Ridge. She implied that the director didn’t want them together.
Before leaving Mallory by herself, Zoe paused. “One question, Mal: Why not just tell Fozzie he has another camper?”
Blake flipped her hair and explained, like it was no big deal, that she was in violation of an agreement with the assistant DA and might go to jail if caught.
True enough, but for Mallory that was actually a distant number two. Number one was avoiding a conversation with Ben starting: “I’m sorry. I was pretending to be Blake because…”
With that, Mallory waved good-night and watched them walk toward the welcoming lights of the Chipmunk Bunk. The setting sun had turned the sky pink and purple, and the sound of gentle waves lapping against the canoes provided some comfort, but only a little. Left alone with her own thoughts, her worries seemed even bigger.
She didn’t want to tell Ben the truth. It would wreck everything they had, but who knows if Blake would actually stay away from him. Predicting her actions was generally a waste of time. She imagined spending a lot of time making sure the real Blake and Ben never hung out. It would be one of those Shakespeare plays that seemed funny, but ended in tragedy.
There was an obvious right answer—come clean to Ben as soon as possible—but it made her feel sick to her stomach just thinking of it. It was right up there with telling her dad she “borrowed” his car and rear-ended a cop. That had sucked. This, though, might be worse.
Where the Chipmunk Bunk was dark and quiet, the boys’ bunk looked like it was hosting an after-hours kegger. Curious, Mallory walked around the lake to B7A and peered in the door. All the lights were on. A few of the guys had passed out on their bunks still wearing their day clothes. The rest were definitely partying. A laptop was propped on a couple of crates, and they’d scooted a bed in front of it to use as a couch. The guys on the couch were hollering at a video game like it was talking back. Mallory snorted. Kipper was bouncing pennies off their beds in the morning to make sure the sheets were pulled tight enough, and the guys were basically living in a frat.
George saw her peering in at them. In sharp contrast to the drunken video gaming, he issued a polite invitation. “Come on in.” Before she knew what was happening, he’d handed her a red cup and sat her down on a junky couch in the back of the bunkhouse. Gesturing to the main action he said, “It’s some kind of video game, League of Legends. It’s Cabin B7A versus some bar in South Korea.”
“South Korea?”
George nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s popular over there. Anyway, if the guys win tonight’s game, the Koreans are shipping a case of Hite Beer to the camp. If team South Korea wins, I don’t know what the guys are sending.” George snorted. “I think they promised one of the junior campers.”
“Do you guys sleep at all?”
“Well, Ben’s passed out.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t even disappointed. Just thinking about telling him the truth made her tense up into a ball of anxiety. When she took a sip of her drink, she cringed and almost spit it out. “What is this?” It burned her mouth and had the faintest pine flavor. She hoped it wasn’t pine-scented cleaner.
George shrugged. “Who knows? Derek brewed it in a plastic waste bin. He calls it Pine Ridge Special Reserve. Supposedly, he made it out of berries he picked last year. These guys have been drinking it for a couple of days, so it’s not poisonous or anything.”
Mallory snorted. Boys were so dumb. Dumb slash hung over actually. She wondered if Fozzie was on to Derek. “How come Ben and I have trail cleanup duty when Derek is getting a whole cabin full of underage kids drunk every night?”
“I don’t think anyone has gotten drunk. It’s pretty gross stuff.”
Mallory laughed. “I guess that’s lucky.” She accepted a bottle of Gatorade, sans moonshine, and pulled her hair up into a sloppy bun.
“You want me to show you where Ben’s bunk is? You can wake him up.”
Mallory nodded, and George led her through the chaos of the guys’ cabin—there were clothes, open bags of chips, and junk everywhere. She was glad to see that Ben’s bunk wasn’t the grossest.
When she sat on the bed, he barely opened his eyes and said, “Blake?” in a scratchy just-woke-up voice.
“I was just, uh…” She was so fixated on what she didn’t want to tell him, that she hadn’t thought of what to say.
He gave her a sleepy smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She blushed. Ben’s hair was mussed and there were sleep lines on his face. It was strangely intimate to see him sleeping.
“Also, I’m glad everything’s okay. You seemed weird earlier.”
She felt weird now actually, but she said, “What do you mean?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Nothing.”
With a deep breath, she asked, “Ben, do you want to go on the porch?” Maybe she could get up the courage to tell him. It’d be easier outside in the dark.
Some of the guys started hooting and hollering and sounding super mature (not). Mallory raised her eyebrows, and Ben said, “Settle down, boys. We’re just going outside.”
Ben took her hand and led her down the lakeshore. It was a perfect night. The heat of the day had burned off, there weren’t too many bugs, and the stars were shining on the lake’s surface, dancing light on the rippling water.
“It’s so Van Gogh,” said Mallory.
“So is cutting off your ear,” said Ben said dryly. “Hey, you weren’t dating Luke Culpepper, were you?”
“No.” At least she didn’t think her sister had been dating Luke. They’d been on again, off again for a while.
“Good. That might be awkward. We’re going to see him at the race tomorrow.”
Jesus. Could there be any more complications in her life tomorrow? She’d almost forgotten about the inter-camp games. Now she had Blake, Luke, Ben, and a sporting event in one day.
They stepped onto a stretch of sandy beach. When their sandals filled with grit, they both kicked off their shoes and walked along, leaving side-by-side footprints in the wet sand. Ben squeezed her hand. “I’ve never felt so comfortable with a girl before. We can really talk to each other. You’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who I feel like I can really trust.”
His words made her feel like crumpling. She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, but the words caught in her throat. She squeezed his hand back and tried not to hyperventilate.
There would be lots of time tomorrow to tell him.
He pulled her in and kissed her, a caramel-flavored kiss, not because he tasted like caramel—it was a sweet, burnt sugar kiss. For one minute, she pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind and savored the feeling of his lips on hers, his hands running through her hair.
Finally, she pulled away. The word “trust” lodged in her throat. There is no way she wanted to give up this boy. She would figure out how to make this work. With one more kiss, she said, “I’ll see you in the morning.” She needed some time to figure out a plan for tomorrow.
If she was going to make it through tomorrow, she needed to operate with the precision of a Swiss Watch. Why couldn’t Blake have shown up after the games? It would have been so much easier if it was a regular day at least. Mallory bit her lip. This was going to take some serious planning.
Late that night, half starry eyed from her walk with Ben, the taste of his kisses still fresh on her lips and half nervous about tomorrow, she let herself into the staff cabin. She pulled her inter-camp games schedule out. After some intense scrutiny, she concluded that it would be possible for both of them to do a few of the events and split duties, as long as they weren’t on the field at the same time. Fozzie would be thrilled that his star athlete was actually fast, Blake would be spared the torture of a boring day in the cabin, and Mallory would have more time to hang out with Ben.
Before breakfast, she’d catch up with Blake and Zoe to explain the plan. It would be a lot to manage, but she could do it.