Chapter Nine
Mallory and the Solo Cup
Mallory
Mallory sighed happily. She was going to a party with college kids! Being Blake was like getting a backstage pass to life. While she’d been following itineraries and doing her homework, people like her sister were partying every weekend. Part of her wanted to write an exposé for all the Mallories out there. For now, she would go to the party with the cool kids. The in-crowd—Mallory’s stomach did a little flip. What if someone wanted her to do drugs? Or make out? A whole world of things adults had warned her about, things that had never happened awaited.
This is why she’d agreed to pose as her sister. It was her chance to try new things and be a real teenager. A little voice in her head berated her for being a coward, for hiding behind her sister’s identity, but at least she was trying to get out there. Blake had begged her to do this, and it was the perfect, risk-free way to test her boundaries.
Adding to the Blake nature of the evening, Mallory had to sneak around behind Fozzie and Kipper’s backs to go to the party. She was supposed to be listening to scary stories around the campfire, not tromping around in the woods looking for a party. Pine Ridge wasn’t much of a detention facility, though. She walked to the ghost story reading with everyone else and just kept going.
When someone sidled up next to her on the path to the woods, she about jumped out of her skin. One second before she blurted out her excuse (“Going back to the cabin to get a sweater”), she saw who it was. “Ben,” she said in an annoyed voice. “What are you doing?”
He fell into step beside her, almost like he’d been waiting for her. That couldn’t be right, though. Why would he want to walk with her?
“Sneaking off to the party, I see,” he said.
She glared. “Same as you it looks like.” They were definitely walking together. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
He shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe. You know Derek only invited you because—”
She cut him off. “Because he thinks I look like a fun person to hang out with. I know.”
He laughed. “That’s definitely not it.”
“Why are you going?”
With a sly smile, he said, “I don’t want to miss any major train wrecks.”
So that’s why he was walking with her to the party—because he wanted to see her embarrass herself. Well, he’d be waiting all night if that’s what he came to see. Sure, her track record wasn’t great, but tonight she was going to play it safe—no tree climbing or carving.
At the party, they found a dozen or so older campers lounging around a clearing in the woods. It was a little buggy, but not horrible. Derek was the only “authority figure” in attendance. Mallory wrapped her arms around herself protectively. What was she even supposed to do at a party?
Derek spotted her and gave her an appreciative once-over. It made her feel giddy even though he seemed a little fast for her. Mallory waved shyly.
At the sight of a keg, she froze. The old Mallory would have run back to the ghost story to avoid the situation. Blake would be the first to drink. She reminded herself of Rule #2: Be fearless. Try new things. She could bow out because it was illegal, but the only reason drinking really made her uncomfortable was because it happened at a party with a bunch people she didn’t know. The real Blake wouldn’t hesitate, and she would be the life of the party.
Mallory surveyed the group of kids standing around drinking—at least she didn’t need to learn any new skills for this rite of passage, something she couldn’t say for rock climbing or mountain biking.
Through the firelight, Mallory saw Ben watching her. He was so intense that she could practically feel his gaze, so James Dean. Mallory took his stare and raised it with one of her own. He broke their contest to talk to the girl next to him. When he smiled at her, it spread across his whole face and crinkled his eyes. Mallory frowned and wondered if he’d let that girl borrow his iPhone. Probably. Mallory had never met that Ben, the Ben with an easy smile. For some reason, she couldn’t look away. He looked so different and cute in an entirely different, more approachable way.
Derek headed toward her and handed her a Solo cup, breaking her train of thought. Mallory steeled her resolve. This is what she’d come to camp to do—try new things, break out of her sheltered little bubble. Because she didn’t want to plug her nose before she sipped (her first inclination), she flat-out chugged the cup.
Two hours later, three guys were holding Mallory’s feet in the air, while the crowd yelled, “GO! GO! GO! GO!”
When a few campers set her back on her feet, she spit out the beer she couldn’t swallow and whooped. First kegstand. If only she scrapbooked, that’d have to go in there. And at her first kegger. It was basically like doing a headstand at your first yoga class. Maybe Blake was the sporty one and Mallory was the fun drunk? Something to try on for size, at least… Had Ben seen her do that?
She saw him sitting next to the girl who’d made him smile. When she swayed a little, Derek caught her.
He looked down into her eyes and drawled, “Nice kegstand, babe.”
She heard herself let out a cutesy giggle. It sounded dumb, but she couldn’t stop herself. She smiled flirtatiously. In the firelight, Derek looked handsome. His eyes sparkled with all of his slacker charm. She knew for a fact that a lot of the girls liked him. Hot counselor with perfect hair. The way he was leaning in, he meant to kiss her. In that moment, she knew exactly what Blake would do. Mallory wasn’t sold on the plan she was about to execute, but she was bound and determined to be Blake to the fullest extent of her powers, even if it was on the wrong side of the law—or make that Mallory’s moral code and probably camp rules. She shut her eyes and waited. Just as she felt his breath on her skin, she jerked away.
She didn’t want to kiss Derek. If she kissed him, what would that mean tomorrow? Derek was sort of an idiot. It’s not like she wanted to date him.
She blurted out, “I’m sorry. I gotta go.” When she spun around to leave, the world tilted. For a second, she grabbed Derek’s shoulder just for support. Under her breath, she muttered, “OhmyGod. I’m so drunk.” While talking herself, she bumped right into a strong male chest.
Ben.
After giving her a concerned look, he said, “How about I walk you back to your cabin?”
“No thanks.” She in no way wanted to hear his opinion on her behavior, so she turned and started walking away from him. Away from Ben took her to the beach. Impulsively, she wandered out onto the dock. The moon’s light danced on the surface of the water hypnotically.
Footsteps sounded on the dock behind her and she heard Ben say, “I don’t want to be responsible if you die.”
“Are you following me?”
“I didn’t want to let you wander off in your…condition.” He pushed back the hair from his forehead and jammed his hands in his back pockets, casual as all get out. “I enjoyed the show tonight.”
Mallory fumed. How dare he follow her out here so casually? For a second she sputtered, searching for the right comment. She landed on, “Tell me the truth. Did you or did you not dye my hair?”
He shrugged and the barest hint of a smile flickered across his face.
“I knew it! You jerk!” She held out one of her bright orange pigtails. “Look at this!”
Cool as a cucumber, he said, “That’s what you get, Blake.”
“And I’m guessing you TPed the mess hall and blamed me, too?”
He flashed her a that-was-all-me-baby smile.
“Do you know Fozzie said he’s going to kick me out of camp if I screw up again? I could end up in jail!” Well, Blake could anyway.
“Oh. And that’s different from what you did to me how?”
It was different because she wasn’t Blake, not that she was going to tell him that. Instead she huffed and tried to walk around him, but he was standing in the middle of the dock, taking up pretty much the whole thing.
“Get out of my way, Ben.”
“No.”
“Seriously, I’m not in the mood for this.” She frowned and said, “I’m gonna have the worst hangover in the morning, too.” Not that she’d ever had one before.
He laughed. “You do realize that was nonalcoholic. I think it was root beer.”
What? “That didn’t taste anything like root beer.”
“It was the homemade kind, less sugary and sort of spicy from the sarsaparilla root.”
“Whatever, Chef Ramsey. I know what root beer tastes like and that wasn’t it. Also, I know the signs of inebriation.” She’d taken health class. A girl her size could only consume one to two alcoholic beverages before feeling the effects. She’d had three. Of course, she didn’t know what beer tasted like…
He nodded like he could really feel her pain. “Yeah, cozying up to Derek. That happens to me when I drink too much, too. After one beer, I always let him grope me a little.”
“You jerk!” Mallory swatted at him. As she said, “That’s not even true! He tried to kiss me and I left.” It struck her that she didn’t need to explain herself to Ben. It’s not like she cared what he thought. But he was right about the alcohol. Embarrassment alone was sobering her up. She was like one of those narcoleptic wiener dogs, the ones that would flop over on their sides, completely passed out, at just the sight of a big bowl of food. All you had to do was show her a Solo cup and say “beer” and she’d be falling down pretend drunk. Her hand shot to her mouth in shock. That sounded like something her sister would do.
Ben was standing there laughing, blocking her path to shore. She shouted, “I’m serious. Get out of my way, Ben.”
He ignored her.
For whatever reason, that was the end of it for her. She’d been up since the crack of dawn messing with her stupid orange hair (Ben’s fault!), cleaning up toilet paper that Ben had thrown around, plus everything else. It had been a long day, mostly because of him.
“Move!” When he didn’t, she shoved him. Hard. He wouldn’t have fallen in the lake, except there was a bait bucket right behind him. When he stumbled, he tripped over the bucket and lost his balance.
She gasped in horror. Before she had a chance to think, she yelled, “Ohmygod. I’m so sorry!”
Sputtering and wringing the water out of his shirt, he said, “I don’t think you are, Blake, but you will be.”
She corrected (because she’d forgotten about Rule #1—No apologies), “Well, I’m not sorry anyway. It serves you right.” She wasn’t that sure it did serve him right, but she was standing her ground, dammit.
Ben pushed the wet hair out of his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, just help me out and let’s go back to our cabins. I’m done with today.” He held out his hand for help. The instant she reached out, she noticed the spark of mischief in his eyes and realized her mistake. He yanked her right in.
For the second time that day, she fell on top of Ben. “Ben Iron Cloud! You are in so much trouble!” she yelled at him. She felt like when she was a little girl. Her only move was to tell the teacher. It’s too bad she hadn’t upped her game.
The water was almost chest high. Algae floated around her legs in a way that totally freaked her out, and her hair hung in her face like seaweed. Ben still had her hand in his. “That was totally worth it,” he said through the laughter. He reached out and picked a weed off her head.
She narrowed her gaze and said, “I can’t believe you—” but she stopped. Of course she could believe he pulled her in. Their entire relationship was based on dumb pranks.
“At least you didn’t stab me this time.”
Mallory blurted out a laugh. “Yeah.” Anything but that.
“The water’s not even cold,” she said. It was actually perfect. They were facing each other in the water like a couple who snuck out to… Her eyes darted up to his. Was he thinking the same thing? She couldn’t tell, but he wasn’t laughing anymore, and he was looking down at her in a decidedly not angry way.
“You want to go for a swim?” he asked. He sounded sincere.
Was he talking about skinny-dipping? She couldn’t tell. It kind of seemed like it… On the defensive, she thought he probably just wanted to trick her into getting naked so he could run away with her clothes. “No, I should get back. It’s bound to be lights-out in the cabin soon.” When she tried to move, she slipped off an algae-covered rock. Ben reached out to steady her.
Face-to-face, his hands on her arms, she knew she hadn’t been imagining it. For just a second, he looked like he might kiss her. He dipped his head down. She tilted her chin up. Everything felt so tingly and light-as-air. It probably only lasted for a few seconds, but it felt like forever.
The hollow sound of footsteps on the dock killed the moment. Mallory looked up to see Derek. “You guys fall in? I thought I heard a splash.”
Mallory nodded.
Completely ignoring Ben, Derek looked at her. “You need a hand up?”
She gave him her hand and he helped her scramble onto the dock. With a feeling of “What just happened?” she looked down at Ben. He was already pulling himself up.
Shy and awkward all of a sudden, she said, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Ben.” Her voice didn’t even sound like her own. It wasn’t that high, was it? “See you around.”
Like nothing happened, he responded, “Yep. See you tomorrow.”
As she walked away, Mallory looked over her shoulder. Had she been imagining their almost kiss? When their eyes locked, she still didn’t know what he was thinking, but he was definitely watching her.
At the door to G7A, Derek said, “I’m so glad you came to the party.” He bent to down to kiss her. Instead of feeling tingly and excited, she felt like ducking. Pretending like she hadn’t noticed he was about to kiss her, she hopped into the cabin and said, “Me, too. Thanks for all the fun!” And she let the cabin door swing shut.
Before he left, he smoothed things over with Kipper. In the voice he must use with adults, he said, “Your camper fell off the docks while she was helping bring a canoe to shore with me.”
Kipper accepted that explanation and turned to Mallory. “It’s lights-out in ten, Blake. You have just enough time to dry off and get ready for bed.”
Feeling totally confused, Mallory changed into her pajamas, washed her face, and stared at her orange hair. It had been such a horrible day, but also not. Her feelings were a swirling rainbow of emotions. For once, she felt more like Blake than Mallory. Maybe this is what happened when you put yourself out there.
Before she fell asleep, Blake texted: You got an A on your first test. Does everyone believe you’re me? Tell me you aren’t wearing sweatpants everywhere!
Mallory laughed to herself. What Blake didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. She texted: Has Dad noticed we switched?
Nope.
Unbelievable. Mallory knew her dad wasn’t really an engaged parent, but that took it to a social-services-should-be-alerted level. Her mom would have kicked his ass if she’d been around, or at least Mallory liked to think so.
It had been a big day. Even though she was dead tired, she needed a few minutes with The Accidental Duchess, something to stop her mind from reeling. She’d barely had any time to read in the last few days. Only two pages into it, she sat up straighter. The duke’s sister, the Countess of Waverly, had thrown a grand ball to celebrate the engagement. Lydia knew almost nothing about behaving in society. Worse yet, she didn’t even have anything to wear…
Mallory smiled and sank into her bunk, just waiting for the duke to provide a fabulous new wardrobe. He didn’t disappointment. The best seamstress in London was at his beck and call, given that he was a Regency-era British billionaire. Lydia’s manners, though, were a problem. She hoped to blame everything on being an American.
Mallory chuckled. Kegger in the woods, grand ball in London—she and Lydia were basically having the same night.
At the phrase “walk in the garden,” Mallory smiled. That was secret code for kissing. Just as she expected, the Duke led her to a secluded corner of the garden. Once out of the prying eyes of society, he explained that she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes upon and turned Lydia’s legs to jelly with kissing.
Just as the Duke was about to untie a ribbon at her bodice (gasp!), Lydia turned and ran, overcome by feelings of being an imposter. The duke had done nothing but shower her with gifts, an extravagant new wardrobe, and jewels fit for a real duchess. Before Mallory could find out if the duke gave chase, Kipper saw her flashlight and shouted, “Lights out, chipmunks!”
Mallory flipped off her phone’s light and dog-eared the corner of the page. She’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out what happened.
She almost felt like Lydia tonight. Both the guilt about lying and boy drama. Ben was no duke, but she’d almost kissed him, at least she thought so. She replayed the moment in her mind, but it was hard to know what had happened. Maybe anger had darkened his eyes and not desire.
As far as impersonation went, though, Lydia was beating her. Where Lydia had scored a fancy new wardrobe, Ben stole hers and dyed her hair orange. She fell asleep thinking about the dance on Friday—she should really fix her hair!—and wondering what revenge Ben had planned for tomorrow.