So, apparently, the camp’s name wasn’t Camp Delinquency.

In my opinion, Camp Delinquency was a much better name—but hey.  Why ask a sensible human being what the name of a camp should be?  No, why don’t we name it “Camp Sunshine Brooks” instead? 

Yeah, you heard me.

They named a camp—one for delinquents, might I add—Camp Sunshine Brooks.  In that moment I wanted to march up to the heads of the camp and tell them off for false advertising.  For all they knew non-delinquent children were being sent here because their parents thought it was a regular summer camp.  Then again, if the parents weren’t smart enough to get the information about the camp first, that was their problem.

I clutched my duffel bag tightly, staring down the campground.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a regular camp.  But I did know better.  I knew that the playground-like set up at the far right (and I mean very far right) was not to play on during free time.  I knew that the men dressed in police uniforms weren’t just playing pretend.  And I knew that the devices on some of the campers’ ankles weren’t just for decoration.

“On the bright side,” Arabelle said from beside me, “there’s a popsicle stand.”

And she was right.  Ahead of us was a snack shack where campers flocked, money in their hands.  I wondered how much the popsicles cost—or the ice cream sandwiches.  How did people even get money for that anyway?  Parents would actually give their children money when sending them to a camp in order to clean up their act?  I for one would not trust my child with money if they’d done enough crap to land themselves here.

“Am I going to be able to do this?” I whispered to her, my eyes scanning the grounds.  A huge building covered most of the grounds, separated into sections.  One was the head’s office, and that was all I really knew.  The office was the only one with a huge sign on the door saying, HEAD in all capital letters.  “Everyone here is so. . . .”

My eyes locked on a boy in the distance.  Why my eyes stayed on him instead of everyone else, I wasn’t sure—but it sure as hell wasn’t the hormones.  Sure, he was attractive, but the whole I’m-going-to-murder-you-and-your-children look he was giving me kind of threw the attractiveness away.  Especially when he was glaring me down.  Why me?  What had I done to him?  Shared the same air?

“Oh, that boy is hot,” Arabelle said, nudging me playfully.  “And don’t worry.  I promise everything will be fine.  If all goes wrong, just get yourself kicked out and then you can come home.”

I shot her an incredulous look.  “And then what?  Pull the mega silent treatment with Dad until you get back?  I’m not that good of an actress, Belle.”

“Then don’t get kicked out.”  Arabelle flashed a smile.  “It’ll be over before you know it.  And,” she added, flicking her wrist in the boy’s direction, “you have my permission to be nice to him.”

I barely cast him a glance before rolling my eyes.  “He’ll eat me in my sleep.  And enjoy it.”

“True,” Arabelle said with a snicker, “but he’s hot so that’s okay.”

We both looked up as our dad exited the head’s office, papers in his hand.  In that instant, everything became real to me.  I was standing inside Camp Sunshine Brooks, and I was going to be a camper there.  I wasn’t going to be leaving with my dad, leaving the guy who was still glaring at me like he could eat me.  And I sure as hell wasn’t leaving the police officers to continue on with their duty—probably arresting the boy for cannibalism. 

No.  I would be staying here at Camp Sunshine Brooks with the cannibal boy and the police that were going to arrest him. 

You have peanut butter, I reminded myself.  Just hold onto that.

How sad was that?  Relying on the fact that I had peanut butter stashed away in order to keep me going?  Pretty depressing if you asked me.

“Falice, it’s time to go,” our dad said as he came to stand in front of us.  Arabelle and I looked up at him, and I almost forgot to keep the glare on my face.  Luckily, though, I remembered at the last second.  “Arabelle, here’s your cabin number.  Please know that I’m doing this for you.”

I snatched the papers out of his hands, making sure to grip them tightly in my hands as I glared him down.  Knowing that this was all pretend made me feel better about myself and what I was doing.  Not much better—but better.

“I’ll see you in August, Belle,” Arabelle murmured, pulling me into her arms.  I hugged her back tightly, closing my eyes.  August.  That seemed so far away.  I could make it until August, right?  Right?

“Yeah,” I muttered, pulling away.  I flashed a small smile.  “See you then, Fal.”

We gave each other one last hug before finally pulling away completely.  Arabelle backed away, back toward the car, back toward our normal lives.  She’d be leaving in a couple days to London.  She’d be having the time of her life with the guy that she “loved” while I stuck here taking the heat for her.

Why was I doing this again?  Arabelle did need to learn how to treat people correctly, I couldn’t deny that.  This would do her good, I knew that.  So why was I taking her place?  Why was I letting her get away with yet another problem she’d created?

Because she was my sister and I wanted to do this for her.

I sighed deeply, bringing a hand through my hair as my dad and Arabelle got into the car and drove off.  It was just me and Camp Sunshine Brooks now. 

You’d think that would put me in a sunshine-y mood, but it really didn’t.

❈

Saying that I was anxious as I made my way into my cabin would be a complete and utter understatement.

I mean, wouldn’t you be nervous, too?  This was a delinquent camp.  All I could visualize was a prison.  Bars, straw-like bed, no bathroom.  Cement flooring, too. 

Thank the Lord that I was wrong.

No, my cabin was actually better than cabins in regular camps.  Beautiful wood walls with two magnificent queen-sized beds.  This was a girl’s cabin so everything was set up in a girlish way.  Frilly bedding that was colored in a spring sort of theme.  Everything was patterned with flowers.  The pillows, the blankets, the curtains.  Everything.  Even the make-up desk had a flower engraved into it over the mirror. 

I sat on the bed nearest the door, my eyes sweeping the cabin.  There were huge windows, and there were two closets on the far side of the room.  One for me and one for my roommate I supposed.  I wondered who my roommate was.  Hopefully she was at least a littlepleasant to be around.  I wasn’t going to kid myself and pretend that she would be like Beth or Caroline.  No, she’d landed herself here.  So she obviously wasn’t an angel.

“So you’re my roommate, huh?”

I looked up, eyes wide as they reached a girl standing in the doorway.  She was tall (taller than I ever hoped to be), with dark skin and black hair.  She didn’t look at all intimidating, especially not with her jean shorts and a Big Bang Theory T-shirt that said, “Bazinga!” on it.  “Hey,” I said, throwing her a smile.  “I’m Fal—Arabelle,”

“Falarabelle?” the girl snickered, strutting into the room, a duffel bag over her shoulder.  “That’s a lovely name.  Don’t mind if I call you Arabelle for short, do you?”

I grinned.  I liked this girl already.  “I would love it if you called me that,” I said with a smile.  “You could call me Fal, too.  It works.”

The girl snorted, chucking her bag into her bed and twisting around to face me.  “I’m Vanessa,” she said simply, placing her hands on her hips.  “Are you a newb?”

I stared at her blankly.  “A newb?”

Vanessa nodded.  “Yeah.  Is this your first year here?”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod.  I awkwardly crossed my arms over my chest.  People came back here?  You didn’t just magically whip into shape after one year?  Huh.  “You?”

Vanessa snorted again.  “Third year running.  They just can’t get enough of me, you know?”

I hopped up as Vanessa moved back to her bed, pulling her clothes out of her duffel bag.  I wondered how much time we had before we all had to meet up at the campfire.  Apparently the head of the camp had these meetings once a week and the first day always began with a meeting?  I wasn’t really sure.  But I didn’t care all that much.  It wasn’t like I was me here.  And Arabelle wouldn’t have cared either, so. . . .

“Oh,” Vanessa added as she chucked more clothing from her bag, “I’m just warning you right now, but when we go to the campfire meeting in a bit, stand straight with your hands at your sides.  Otherwise you’ll have an old man screaming a centimeter away from your face.”  She grinned at me.  “Just saying.”

I blinked at her.  “Seriously?” I asked.  “He’s not a . . . spitter is he?”

Vanessa laughed heartily with a hand wrapped around her stomach as though it was going to hold her together.  I watched her, not knowing what was so funny.  “Oh my God, girl,” she snickered, “I tell you he’ll be screaming in your face and the first thing you’re worried about is if he’s a spitter?”  

“Well he’s going to scream at me sooner or later,” I said with a shrug.  And it was probably true.  Arabelle would do anything she could to defy this man, so she had to, too.  There was no way around it.  If she had to deal with a man who screamed in your face all the time, then so be it.  This was in the job description.  “So I should know if I need a mask or not.”

“Oh, spicy—I like you, Falarabelle.”  Vanessa flashed her a smile.  “So what are you in here for?”

I fell back on my bed, forcing myself not to care if I got it messed up.  I was Arabelle now.  I did not care.  I did not care.  I did not care.  “Attitude problems,” I said, rolling my eyes.  “Apparently I picked one too many fights in school and treated my dad like crap.  But, you know, he treated me like crap first and those girls deserved it.”

“I bet they did.”  Vanessa crossed over to my side of the room and plopped down next to me.  “My parents think I have attitude problems, too.  But they don’t know that it’s only with them.”  She grinned.  “That and I steal stuff.  I think society looks down on that.”

I cocked an eyebrow.  I’d never come across a teenager who stole stuff before.  I didn’t know how to feel about this.  Cool, because that’s how Arabelle would be, or worried that she would steal my stuff, because, well, she was a thief.  “Nice,” I said, deciding to be cool with it.  I was Arabelle now.  The faster I got that in my head, the better.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your stuff.”  She stuck her tongue out at me.  “I don’t steal things from my new best friends, Falarabelle.”

I smiled at her.  New best friend?  Well.  It was good that someone considered me a friend around here.  It would really help in getting through this summer.  Like, a lot.

I opened my mouth to reply, but an ear-piercing whistle suddenly cut through the air, blocking off my words.  I let out a small cry, covering my ears with the hands.  What the hell?  Did it really have to be so obnoxiously loud?  Were they trying to make our ears bleed?

Vanessa grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my ear, pulling me off my bed and toward the front door.  “It’s time for the meeting!” she squealed.

Why was she excited?  Like, really, why?

With a shake of the head I followed Vanessa out of our cabin and outside.  Everyone was swarming toward the hill to the right, sullen expressions on their faces.  I didn’t really blame them for feeling the way they did.  We were at delinquent camp, after all.

“Just fake manners and you’ll survive the place,” Vanessa whispered into my ear.  “That’s what I do.”

If she faked manners here to survive, why didn’t she just fake manners with her parents?  Wouldn’t that save her a lot of trouble?  Well, maybe not.  Maybe her parents really sucked that much.  I wasn’t about to judge her because of what she did.  I mean, I didn’t even really know her.  And she seemed cool. 

“Yo, Vanessa!”

Vanessa and I turned, watching as a boy sauntered toward us, a bright smile on his face.  He was really tan, I couldn’t help but notice.  And his mop of hair fit well with his tone.  He dressed well, too, with jeans and a plain white T-shirt.  It was much unlike the rest of the guys here who wore their hats backwards on their heads and their pants down below their waists.  He reminded me of the guys I hung out with at school.  So why was he here?

“Hey, babe!” Vanessa called with a wink.  “Glad to see you’ve landed your ass in hell again.”

“Burn baby burn!” the boy shouted, throwing his fist in the air as he reached us.  “Who is this?”  He paused, pointing a finger at me.  “I’m going to call you Jessica.  Because you look like a Jessica.”

“She’s Falarabelle,” Vanessa corrected, winking at me.  “Gosh, Ty, how could you not know that?”

“Falarabelle?” Ty sucked in a breath.  “Jeez.  I am sorry to hear that.  I really am.”

“It’s just Arabelle,” I said with a small smile.  “Or Belle.”

“I’m calling you Jessica.”  Ty snickered.  “If you don’t like it, well, I don’t really care.”

With that, Ty strutted off, flipping us off over his head as he did.

I blinked after him, not really knowing what just happened.  How was it that I’d gained so many names in one day?  There was Falice, Arabelle, Falarabelle, and now Jessica.  I was not going to be able to keep up with all of this.  Well, at least I had a right not to turn around when Ty called me Jessica.  I mean, it was just random.

“Who was that?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at Vanessa as we made our way toward the hill. 

“That’s Ty,” Vanessa said, stating what I already knew.  “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” I laughed.  “Ah, I see.”

Vanessa shoved me playfully.  “That’s why we get ourselves thrown in here every year, you know,” she said, holding her head high.  “Because he lives, like, three states away.”

That was commitment. 

“Aw, that’s cute,” I said, grinning.  “So why did he just . . . walk away?”

Vanessa sighed dramatically, her hand sweeping around the camp.  “Romance is forbidden here,” she drawled, her voice deep as though she was mocking someone.  “If to be caught in the act of kissing, holding hands, or anything related to that, you will be reported to the head of the camp immediately.  You are here to grow as a human being.  Romance is for home.  You are not home.  Get over it.”

“Oh,” I said, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice.  “Is that all?”

Vanessa was about to reply, but suddenly the boy I caught glaring at me when we first arrived stomped passed us, his hands shoved into his pockets.  I stared after him as he stormed down the hill, wondering what his story was.  What landed him here?  Why did he seem to hate everything and everyone?  What was his deal?

“Hey to you, too, Will!” Vanessa hollered sarcastically.  She rolled her eyes at his back before turning to me.  “That’s Will.  He hates everyone except for a few people here.”

“Who are those few people?” I inquired, truly curious.  “And why does he hate everyone?”

“Me and Ty,” Vanessa replied.  “Mostly Ty.  And I don’t know.  He just has an attitude problem, I guess.”

I shrugged, deciding not to question her more on it.  What did it matter to me, anyways?  It wasn’t like we were ever going to talk.  From the look he gave me earlier today, we’d probably be doing quite the opposite.

❈

“The rules of this camp are simple.”

I stood along with everyone else, my eyes on the head of the camp.  He stood on top of a stage in front of the campfire (which wasn’t lit), his eyes boring down on us all.  He reminded me of the soldiers in the movies—and he kind of looked exactly like Bruce Willis.  Maybe he was secretly Bruce Willis and this was secretly a movie that we were being put in without knowing.  But that was probably just my imagination.

“Behave yourselves, treat me and the other workers here with respect, and do what you’re told when you’re told to do it.”

I glanced at Vanessa who shot me a wink.  I winked back before allowing my eyes to move around the crowd, searching for people that seemed like Vanessa and Ty.  But no one else did.  Everyone else was scowling, hating the world and everyone in it.  No one else here seemed like they would be fun to be around.  Which was okay I supposed.  Arabelle did say I should only be nice to a select few people.

“And, above all, romance is forbidden here.”

My eyes shot from the crowd and to the head of the camp as he spoke into the microphone.  I glanced at Vanessa, who was giggling under her breath.  She’d memorized this speech?  Wow.

“If to be caught in the act of kissing, holding hands, or anything related to that, you will be reported to the head of the camp immediately.  You are here to grow as a human being.  Romance is for home.  You are not home.  Get over it.”

I barely suppressed a snort as Vanessa leaned closer and whispered in a deep voice, “Get over it.”

To keep from laughing and getting myself in trouble with one of the workers, I looked to the right, spotting Ty and Will a few feet away.  They were speaking in hushed voices, and for the first time, I didn’t see a glare on Will’s face.  Though, I’d only seen him twice.  But still.

“If you keep staring he’s going to see you.”

I spun around, almost whacking Vanessa as she snickered at me.  “Are you infatuated with my good man Will, Falarabelle?”

I rolled my eyes.  “No, of course not.”

“Ah, so you’re just interested in his back story.”  Vanessa winked at me.  “Hey, don’t give me that look, chicky.  Every girl has a soft spot for the mysterious boy.  It happens.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Where our conversation was headed, I wasn’t really sure, but it didn’t get any further anyway.  A worker came up to us and grabbed us by the shoulders, whispering in our ears for us to pay attention before he sent us straight to the head’s office after the meeting was over.  Part of me was terrified by his threat and wanted to go cry in a corner for getting in trouble.  But another part of me really didn’t care.  It was like Arabelle was finding her way through to me.  I didn’t know how to feel about that.

Well.  It didn’t really matter at this point.  All that mattered was that I made it through the summer without slipping up again.  Vanessa may have found it funny and amusing, but someone else might have actually taken the slip up seriously and questioned me about it.

I couldn’t do it again.  Because there was no turning back now.  If I got caught I would be in serious trouble.  Not just with the camp, but with my dad.

And I was not going to get in trouble with my dad.  No thank you.

Yes, I drew the line at getting in trouble with my dad.  Sue me.

“You are absolutely going to love supper,” Vanessa squealed in my ear, looping my arm in hers as we headed up back up the hill.  I just loved being sent down a hill to be given a bunch of rules and then sent back up.  “Like really, really love it.”

“Oh, I am am I?” I asked.

 I guess we’d see about that.