14 | Crapping Myself Pales in Comparison

With my new interest in taking portraits, photography is back to being fun, and the workshops are finally as enjoyable as I always imagined they'd be. Actually, they're even more helpful than I anticipated, since I'm tackling something new.

But even though all that is going great, if I had to pick one word to describe how I've been feeling these last four days, it'd be impatient.

For one thing, I'm impatient for Rita and Mei to strike back, since waiting on their retaliation is totally stressing me out. I feel like I'm constantly on guard, expecting them to exact revenge at any moment.

Word did get around about Rita's underwear, and even though most people seem to know it was a prank, it hasn't stopped them from making jokes-- well, to Rita. I don't think anyone would be dumb enough to say anything to Shaefer. Even Haru, who approached Rita in the lunch line yesterday and asked when the wedding is. Of course, he almost got stabbed in the head with a fork, but judging from the laughter of him and his friends, it was worth it.

Rita and Mei haven't said anything to me or Lizzie about what happened, but there's no doubt that they know it was us. So I guess all we can do now is wait and see what happens. Either they're waiting for the perfect time to strike, or they've finally decided to let it go-- and I'm not too convinced "letting it go" is even in Rita's vocabulary.

I'm also impatient to see Ethan's painting. We haven't had a chance to talk much since the day he got started (although let's be honest, the small talk we make in the lunch line still makes my knees weak) and every morning since then, I've woken up hoping he'll find me and tell me that he's finished. I keep telling myself that I'm just excited to see what my portrait turns out like, and that it's got nothing to do with the fact that I'm hoping for another chance to get to know him.

I've still been thinking about what he said, and I still don't have any answers. For now, I just want to enjoy summer with Lizzie and Zack, and try not to be so concerned about the whole friendship title.

Speaking of, that's the other thing I'm impatient for-- waiting for the two of them to get together is like waiting for an apology from Rita. Okay, that's a little bit of an exaggeration, since an apology from Rita is less likely than the Lochness Monster showing up in Lake Kintaw. I at least have hope that by the end of the summer, the two of them might confess their feelings.

That hope increases tenfold when Lizzie and I get back to our cabin after dinner. I'm just in the middle of telling Lizzie about the light leak technique I learned in class today as we walk through the door, but my sentence trails off as my eyes land on her bed.

"Del?" Lizzie questions, waving a hand in front of my face.

I grin, grabbing her by the shoulders and swiveling her around. Over her shoulder, I point to the blue, origami crane sitting on her pillow. She gasps, the two of us hurrying over. We stand on opposite sides of the mattress, looking down at it in frozen surprise. On one of the wings, Open Me is written in plain black letters.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" Lizzie shakes her hands like she's trying to expel the excitement from her body. "You don't think-- I mean, it has to be from him, right?"

"Open it!" I pick it up and shove it in her direction, eager to see what it says inside. Of course it'll be from Zack-- it's probably a love letter or a romantic poem confessing his feelings.

Lizzie hastily unfolds the bird with shaking hands, careful not to make any tears in the paper. Her eyes scan the page, and she bites her lip, letting out a high pitched squeal. A few of our cabin mates look over as she fans herself.

"Lizzie," she reads aloud to me, "Please meet me by the dock at midnight. I know it's asking a lot, but there's something important I need to tell you. Yours, Zackary." She places her hands on her heart, still clutching the page. Then she gasps, eyes going wide. "Oh my God-- what am I gonna wear?"

"I think you could wear a trash bag and it probably wouldn't matter to Zack." I force myself to keep the grin on my face. I want to be happy for Liz like I was a few seconds ago, but unfortunately, my mind is in war mode. As a result, it's thought of the worst possible scenario: what if this isn't really a note from Zack, and is actually a trap?

This could be Rita and Mei finally striking back. I know Mei used to do origami all the time. She was so good she could probably make a crane in her sleep, and that one looked pretty pristine for someone who just took an introductory class the other day. The writing doesn't give much away, though. It's too short and straight to the point for me to say it doesn't sound like Zack-- Lizzie would know better than I would, anyway.

Lizzie frantically rummages through her dresser, already searching for the perfect ensemble. She's so giddy that the last thing I want to do is dampen her mood, especially since this really could be from Zack. If I freak her out and she doesn't go, he might get the wrong idea and think she isn't interested.

"I'll go with you," I offer. "I'll keep an eye out for any counselors while you guys talk."

Lizzie looks over, looking grateful enough to cry. I think the note has her emotions running a little haywire, to say the least. "Really? Uhg, what would I do without you? You're seriously the best, Del."

I smile, trying to not feel so guilty about keeping my suspicion a secret.

• • • 🌻 • • •

At five minutes to midnight, the two of us sneak out of our cabin, flashlights in hand. Thankfully, we have a bit of experience with being out after curfew, and I'm not nearly as nervous as I was the first time. It's one thing to get caught sneaking out to go visit a boy, but it's a whole other situation to get caught tip-toeing in the dark with a bag of underwear that isn't yours.

"I'll stay back here near the trees while you wait by the dock," I say as we reach the end of the path just before the beach. "I wouldn't want to third wheel your romantic moment."

"Okay." Lizzie grins, bursting at the seams with energy. She went through too many outfit choices to count, but finally decided on a vintage halter top and pair of bell-bottoms. She looks great, and I know that if this is the real deal, Zack's nerves will probably get even worse when he sees her. "Thanks again for coming with."

I tell her not to worry about it, and she gives me one last smile before following the light of her flashlight over to the dock.

As she nears the shore she slows, eventually coming to a stop. I can just make out her silhouette in the dark, head looking back and forth, down at the sand. What is she doing?

When she raises her light to the dock, her behavior finally makes sense. The wood is no longer it's usual brown color. Instead, it's splattered with every shade of the rainbow in what's probably the world's worst paint job. Spread among the nearby sand are discarded tubes and cans of paint.

My stomach drops-- I really didn't want to be right.

I'm just about to call for her to come back when I hear a distant conversation, clearly audible in the silent night. "I was on my way to the bathroom when I heard someone, and then I saw them heading to the beach with like, a bucket or something. I don't like being a snitch, but it looked really strange."

Rita. My blood boils at the sound of her headache-inducing voice. She has Lizzie exactly where she wants her, looking totally guilty.

And as if framing Liz wasn't enough, she got her hopes up about Zack. She's probably heartbroken that the note wasn't really from him, and I'm not about to let this night get any worse for her-- we're getting out of here if it's the last thing we do.

I hurry out from the woods, making my way to Lizzie through the dark. "Rita's coming with a counselor," I whisper once I'm at her side. She seems sort of shell shocked, so I reach for her flashlight and turn it off for her. "We need to go."

"I-- yeah, right. Okay," Lizzie nods, seeming to shake off the brain fog. "How are we gonna get back?"

It's a good question. Since Rita and the counselor are heading to the lake from the cabins, it isn't like we can come back the way we came.

"We'll have to loop around," I say, already dragging Lizzie towards the center of the campgrounds. "Go through the workshop area and head back to our cabin from the entrance to the girls' area."

Since we're trying to stay in the shadows and using the buildings for cover like last time, it takes me longer than I'd like for us to get back to the girls' area. By the time we reach the woods that sit just before the path to the cabins, the place is already more alive than when we left. Flashlight beams swarm against the ground as counselors exit their cabins, asking each other what's going on.

"We're dead," Lizzie says mournfully, shaking her head.

I sigh, watching as the counselors form a circle. I can see Rita among them-- in fact, they're all looking at her, probably waiting for her to reiterate what she saw. And Rita... well, for the first time ever, she looks nervous.

Confidence swells in my chest. Thanks to our quick thinking, Rita's plan is totally off the rails.

"No. Not yet," I reply, pulling Lizzie deeper into the shadow of the forest. "We can do this."

"If they see me, it's over," she argues. "What am I supposed to say, I got dressed up for a midnight bathroom break?"

My eyes widen at the idea her words give me. "Wait-- that's it, that's perfect."

She arches an eyebrow at me. "I... don't think they'll buy it."

"No, no," I wave her thought away. "Not that-- the bathrooms. They're what, fifteen feet away? You go in there, hide in a stall, and I'll head back to the cabin. I'll tell the counselors that you weren't feeling well so I helped you to the bathroom, but you..."

"But I...?"

"You..." How do I put this politely? "You... soiled yourself before we got there," I explain, cringing at the potential embarrassment it might cause. "You had to throw them out, so you need me to bring you a change of clothes. You can change, and we'll hide the clothes you're wearing under our shirts on the way back."

Lizzie lets out a short laugh. "Del... you're a genius."

"You don't mind the story? The counselors might talk about it."

Lizzie purses her lips, then shrugs. "Half the camp has seen my boobs. Crapping myself pales in comparison."

We share a smile before heading our separate ways, Liz slinking towards the bathroom while I head back towards the cabin. It's a good thing I stayed in my pajamas, otherwise, we really would have been screwed. But thanks to my attire, the grouped up counselors barely spare me a second look.

"What's going on?" I ask as I pass by, figuring it'd be more suspicious not to ask. Plus, it gives me the chance to really rub it in to Rita just how not guilty the counselors think I am.

I recognize the counselor who answers as the one who gave me my cabin number on the first day. "Someone vandalized the dock. Rita saw someone head down that way, but we couldn't find anyone there."

"What're you doing up?" A tall blonde asks, crossing her arms.

I explain the made-up situation and her glare softens into sympathy.

She sucks in air through her teeth, grimacing. "Yikes. You'd better get those clothes-- and tell your friend the infirmary has some Pepto if she needs it."

"Thanks, I'll let her know." I smile at the group as I walk away, but it morphs into a satisfied smirk as my eyes land on Rita, who's leering at me.

Get ready, I hope my expression reads. Cause we're getting you back good for this one.

What do you think of Rita's attempt at revenge? 😈

Are you sad the note wasn't really from Zack? 📝