Twenty: Nothing's Impossible... Except This One Thing

“Cindy?”

            Oh God. Here I go. Why did I even think this was a good idea? It’s crystal clear to me now that this is probably one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had (and yes, I actually mean it this time). Cindy is standing over the other side of the camp, next to her tent (where I will hopefully be spending the night), doing some sort of strange yoga routine with the flock of girls who seem to be attached to her hip.

            Is this what I should be doing? Should I be composing and conducting aerobic sessions on a daily basis? Is it considered bad counselor practice if every morning begins with an extra half hour in bed rather than a refreshing morning jog around camp grounds?

            I hope not, because exercise really isn’t my thing.

            Plus... tight fitting track pants make my butt look way bigger than necessary.

            As I approach her, the internal debate begins. I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s obvious that as soon as I so much as mention the absurd ultimatum, Cindy will shoot me down instantly. Either that, or she will query a rational explanation for the strange request, and then, when I fail to give her one, refuse to comply.

            I’m on the verge of pivoting on my heel and heading straight back in the direction I came from (whilst hoping she didn’t notice), when Cindy pauses her complex yoga session and sends me a questioning look.

            “Yeah?”

            She pushes a strand of blonde hair that has fallen from her ponytail away from her glowing face. Her cheeks are flushed slightly pink from the activity and I can’t help noticing the gray track pants she is wearing are way too snug around the backside. It takes intense mental concentration not to mutter the word ‘slut’ disguised under a cough. Okay, maybe not that much concentration, but it’s still an effort.

            I should probably stop being so bitchy.

            “Um, can I talk to you for a sec?”

            I hope I don’t sound too pathetic and desperate. But then again, this is me we’re talking about.

            “Sure!” Cindy responds, way too enthusiastically. For all she knows, I could be announcing the unfortunate event of a fire in Melody Cabin, which has consequently burnt all her belongings. I doubt she’d be so cheery then.

            She turns to the six girls under her supervision. “I’m just going to talk to someone for a second,” she declares. Then, she points to the tallest one, who has long waves of chocolate brown hair cascading down her back, accompanied with Bambi brown eyes. “Siobhan, you can take over whilst I’m gone. Back in a sec!”

            Siobhan nods profusely as Cindy turns back to me. We move a couple of paces away until we are out of earshot of the majority of camp.

            “So...” Cindy begins. “What’s up?”

            “Uh... I need to ask you a, um... favor.”

            Well, this is going fantastically. I haven’t even managed one simple sentence and I’m already stuttering. Get a grip, Bailey, you’re talking to Cindy, not Blake. I’m pretty sure that I can manage to speak without getting distracted by her attractiveness.

            Unless I’ve unknowingly turned lesbian.

            Great.

            “What kind of favor?”

            “Um, well... I was kind of hoping...”

            “Yeah?”

            Freaking hell, if she’d be a bit more patient, I might be able to explain it.

            “I was kind of hoping we could switch tents. You know, just for tonight.” I gesture around the camp aimlessly, hoping this will animate my explanation in some way. It doesn’t.

            “You want to switch tents?”

            “Uh, yeah.”

            She ponders on the thought for a moment, her perfectly arched brows furrowing as she submerges herself in consideration. Apparently, intense concentration is required to conjure up an answer to this simple proposition.

            Then, after a couple of seconds, her head flicks back upwards and her weirdly blue eyes bore curiously into mine. “Why?”

            God, she’s so suspicious. Can’t a girl ask a simple favor from someone without arousing such skepticism? It’s like she automatically assumes I’ve got some sort of darker ulterior motive for asking this.

            Well, I have... but that’s hardly the point, is it?

            The point is Cindy’s excessive suspicion.

            “Um...”

            Now would be a good time to use the incredibly believable reason I’ve prepared prior to my journey over here. You know, it would be a lot more helpful if that actually existed.

            “Because, uh... because I had a huge fight with Savannah!” I blurt out.

            “What?”

            “Yeah, um, we had a big argument. Not speaking to each other. So we don’t want to go in the same tent. That’s why I was wondering if you’d switch with me.”

            For less than two seconds’ worth of thought, this idea isn’t actually too bad. Maybe I’m getting kind of good at this whole spontaneous thought thing.

            “You and Savannah had a fight?” Cindy’s eyebrows are raised questioningly.

            “Yeah...”

            “You guys seemed okay at dinner.”

            “The fight was after,” I add hastily. “About... about the washing up. Ended nastily.”

            Cindy is peering at me curiously – I’m not sure whether this is from disbelief, or merely because my facial expression does not match the lie I am telling. Let’s face it: I’m not exactly gifted in deception, especially since I do have the incredibly irritating tendency to start laughing hysterically in the middle of my sentence.

            I think I can cross secret agent off my list of possible career options.

            “Wow… I didn’t think you guys were the type to argue.”

            Oh my God, does she actually believe this? Either she’s incredibly stupid, or the God of Embarrassment has changed his tune for one moment. Oh, praise be to whoever the hell did this! I love them, I swear. They are seriously saving my butt right now.

            “Well, I guess we are,” I say, in a tone that I hope sounds pitying yet believable. “So… what do you say about the tent thing?”

            Please, please, please.

            God of Embarrassment, you’ve got me this far. Don’t give up now.

            “Have you tried talking to Savannah? I’m sure you guys could make up. You’re pretty close, aren’t you?”

            “I already have,” I garble quickly, without even thinking about what excuse I’m going to conjure up from the dark depths of my brain. “She was totally overreacting. Told me she didn’t want to speak to me. It’s impossible.”

            “Oh…” Cindy says, blatantly disappointed.

            “It would be so much better if you and Savannah could camp together, just for tonight,” I say. I’m hoping my voice sounds soothing and persuasive, but knowing me, it probably resembles a sore throat. Studying Cindy’s expression closely doesn’t give me any more of a hint as to which end of the spectrum she is swinging towards (the two extremes being completely believing my story with no questions asked, or looking at me like I’m an utter idiot and turning down my offer flat). “Please?”

            Just to throw in a bit of good manners. No one can say I’m not polite.

            “Well…” she says, her voice trailing off and disappearing into oblivion as she considers my offer. “I suppose so.”

            Yes! Result! Bailey Cunningham, the master of persuasion, has done it. It’s about time too; she was taking a stupidly long amount of time to make her mind up. Some of us actually have things to do, you know, besides teaching pointless yoga to a bunch of spoiled kids.

            As I thank her and turn to walk off, a feeling of triumph and power washes over me. Phase One of Avoid Getting Pranked and Get Cindy Pranked Instead (and yes, I know you’re completely overwhelmed by the creativeness of that name) is complete.

            Phase Two, commence.

            You know, right after I figure out what Phase Two actually is.

***

            Cindy’s kids are probably some of the most annoying kids I’ve ever met (aside from the boys of Forte Cabin, but they’re a different type of annoying). Siobhan is obviously the leader, and for some reason she disapproves of me supervising them for the night. Well, excuse me if I don’t have the same shiny blonde hair as their usual counselor, or if I can’t get a note out of a flute.

            Does that make me any less worthy of being their counselor?

            Apparently so.

            I’ve already set up my stuff in Cindy’s perfectly constructed tent, and can’t help but take delight in the fact that she’s now spending the night in ours (which is likely to collapse on top of her after a couple of hours). My sleeping bag is laid out on an air mattress, and I’ve piled up so many pillows it’s starting to look like I’m building a wall. I’m sorry, but if I’m being forced to sleep in the freezing outdoors, I want to be comfy.

            “Are you sure you’re a qualified counselor?” Siobhan asks me, her voice tinged with disapproval as I force another blanket through the flaps of my tent.

            “Yes,” I respond, trying not to let the irritation show. “I’m just as qualified as Cindy.”

            This is probably a lie, but I’m not going to admit this to the little brat standing in front of me. Ugh... maybe I should be kind of grateful that I’ve got Forte. It does mean that I don’t have to deal with these stuck-up girls.

            But then I remember the mystery prank that will almost certainly happen tonight and my mind changes pretty quickly.

            “You don’t seem like it.”

            Do we seriously have to go into the details of all the qualifications I have that enable me to be a camp counselor (i.e. none)? Cindy may have passed some complex course that enables her to teach yoga to ‘musically gifted’ eight year olds, but that’s not exactly me.

            Well, it’s really not me (and that’s mostly to do with the whole tight track pants thing).

            “I’m perfectly qualified,” I tell her, the firmness of my voice signaling the end of our conversation, and triggering the rest of the girls to retreat to their tents.

            The rest of the camp seems to be settling down now, just as a blanket of darkness has fallen over the woods. The noise level has decreased too; the steady buzz of various chatter now just a comforting reminder that I’m not completely alone in this remote location.

            As I survey the camp one last time, my eye catches with Savannah’s across the lively flames of the campfire. Cindy’s back is safely turned, so the quick, mischievous smile she shoots me goes blissfully unnoticed. I return it easily, before turning around and slipping into the seclusion of Cindy’s tent.

            It takes at least five minutes for me to adjust the pillows and comforters into a suitable arrangement for sleeping. And even then, the interior of the tent is freezing.

            Oh God, why did I agree to this?

            Despite the fact that Cindy is now unknowingly in the prime target position for the boys’ ultimate prank, I can’t help but feel unnerved. What if they overheard our conversation and are aware of our switch? I may not have escaped just yet.

            Even the safety of someone else’s tent does not let the feeling of dread subside.

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Can't believe this story is ending soon! It's my favourite one :( Even if it doesn't get that many reads. BUT on a happier note - MY EXAMS ARE OVER! Biology and Chemistry went okay, Physics was... well, we won't go there.

OH, and do any of you remember a couple of chapters ago I said about my English Language mock? And I was cringing because of the thing I wrote in the creative writing section? Well, I got full marks in that section! I guess all this writing is good practice, huh? :-)

The next two chapters are DRAMATIC. And the epilogue's cute :) Remember to vote to encourage me to write more and upload my next story sooner :D