Spells & Sleeping Bags #3 by Sarah Mlynowski Read Free Book Online Page B

awkward silence, since I was, um, awful in the fashion show. Miri, obviously realizing her faux pas, mutters, “I'd better get back to my table. I promised my counselor I'd only be gone for a minute.”
    “Me too,” Raf says.
    “Hey, Raf, how come you weren't on the bus today?” Omigod, I can't believe I just asked that! A cool person wouldn't have asked that. A cool person wouldn't even have noticed he wasn't on the bus.
    “I drove up with Will. The counselors had last night off after pre-camp, so he came into the city to see Kat. Anyway, I'll see you later, Rache.”
    I love that he's calling me Rache ! “Cool. Later.”
    Later. I'm going to see Raf later.
    I'm not even going to obsess over what he meant by later. I'm going to be cool.
    La, la, la. La.
    But did he mean later like in five minutes, later tomorrow, or later as in he'll stop by to say good-bye on the last day of camp?

 
     

     
     
    4
BREAK OUT THE MARSHMALLOWS
     
    After dinner is free play. We return to the bunk to hang out and eat barbecue chips, brownies, and peanut M&M'S.
    “Are there ever going to be activities?” I ask as my hand turns multicolored from the candied chocolate. I am lying on Alison's bed, my feet propped up against the ladder. “Or do we just get to hang out and eat all summer?”
    “The first day is always a get-to-know-you day,” Morgan explains. “And don't get too used to the food. They give us two days with the junk we brought from home and then they toss the rest.”
    “They don't toss it,” Alison says. “They put it in a big garbage bag and take it to the counselors' lounge, where they snack on it all summer.”
    “That is so unfair,” Poodles says with a sigh. “I can't wait until we're staff and can steal our kids' food. Alison, pass me another one of your mom's brownies.”
    “Sure. Want one, Carly?”
    Carly is on the floor in sit-up position. “No, thanks.” Huff, huff. “I'm on a diet.”
    “You can be on a diet once they've confiscated our food,” Alison says. “Right now you should enjoy the brownies.”
    Carly ignores her.
    “I'm not letting them take all my stuff,” Morgan says. “No way. I'm finding a better hiding place this year.”
    If only I had stuff to hide. At least they share. I reach over and take another handful of Alison's M&M'S. “Can't you just stash the stuff in your laundry bag or something?”
    Morgan snorts. “Please. That's the first place they look.”
    Alison nods. “Last year, Anderson—Rachel, have you met Anderson yet?”
    “Nope.”
    “He's good friends with Raf. Anyway, he—”
    “He uses way too much hair gel,” Morgan says.
    “ Anyway, he hid his cell in an empty deodorant can. But his counselor heard it ringing, and it got confiscated.”
    “I agree with the cell phone rule,” Poodles says. “They ruin the camp experience.”
    “Attenthion all camperth and counthlorth! Attenthion all camperth and counthlorth! It ith now the end of free play. Pleathe protheed to Upper Field for the annual firtht night'th campfire.”
    “Speaking of camp experiences,” Alison says, “this is one of my faves.”
    Morgan smirks. “Just don't forget to bring a thweatthirt.”
     

     
    “School is done.
    It's time for summer fun.
    Canoes and mosquitoes too.
    Back to camp, where the friends are true.”
    Since I don't know any of the words, all I can do is bop my head and clap along with the 350 counselors and campers who are all singing (aka screaming) at the tops of their lungs around the massive campfire. Somehow our bunk has managed to score seats on the ground only a few rows back from the fire, so even though it's cool out, the flames are warming my face.
    Anthony, the head counselor and an enormously tall and stunningly attractive olive-skinned man in his late twenties, is leading us along on his guitar.
    “W-O-O-D!
    A home away from home for me.
    L-A-K-E!
    There's nowhere we'd rather be!”
    I spot Miri sitting diagonally from me with her bunk. Instead of