21 | The Right Thing

I carefully tilt the plastic jar of glitter and watch as it all collects into the plastic bag. It's dark in Rita's cabin, and the five girls sleep silently in their beds, oblivious to my presence.

I guess I should explain how I got here and why I feel so sick to my stomach with guilt over what I'm doing.

At breakfast the morning after movie night, Lizzie gasped while eating her oatmeal and dropped her spoon so suddenly that some of the warm cereal splattered and ended up on her glasses lense. She didn't even bother cleaning them, flailing her hands excitedly as Zack and I looked on with wide eyes. To my dismay, she'd just had a breakthrough and had thought of a prank that was equal parts brilliant and evil.

I can boil her plan down to two words: Glitter. Everywhere. In Rita and Mei's clothes, in their shampoos and their soaps, in their hairbrushes and sneakers. They'll probably be finding glitter on their belongings well into the next decade.

Or at least they would be, if I wasn't such a backstabber.

While we worked through the plan yesterday, I volunteered to do the glitter dumping. Of course I did. Because if I did it, then I could not do it, and Lizzie and Zack would be none the wiser. They'd think I went along with the plan and that Rita and Mei had somehow de-glittered everything. Meanwhile, Rita and Mei would think we never retaliated, and the prank war would silently come to an end.

Lizzie and Zack won't hate me for not wanting to continue, and I'm saving all of us from getting kicked out of camp. It's the right thing to do. So why do I feel so terrible stuffing the glitter-filled baggy into my hoodie?

I take a deep breath, waiting for a moment so it seems like I'm following the plan. The minute is long, filled with the sounds of Rita's snores— which would be funny if I wasn't so distracted— and the crickets outside. The more seconds that go by, the heavier the weight in my gut seems to become. Once I walk out of this cabin, there's no turning back. I'll officially have made my choice.

With another shaky breath, I carefully leave the cabin. I force a smile as I head down the steps towards Lizzie, returning her thumbs up. She jumps up and down, silently clapping her hands, and I'm brought back to the panty-planting prank. I'd felt so giddy that night, I'd had so much fun. Now I just feel like the life has been sucked out of me and like my fake grin might collapse at any second.

"We are so the dream team," Lizzie whispers as we tip-toe back to the woods to let Zack know we're finished. The baggy presses against my abdomen, reminding me of what I've done— or rather, didn't do— with every step. "I mean, seriously. I don't know how I would've survived another year of Rita without you, Del."

The words are like a kick right to the gut. If Lizzie can see the tears in my eyes shining in the moonlight, I hope she thinks they're from happiness and not from the harsh sting of regret that burns through my veins, so intense it almost makes me nauseas.

This is the right thing to do, I tell myself over and over, hoping my heart will agree with my head soon enough.

What Lizzie doesn't know can't hurt her, even if it eats at me forever.

• • • 🌻 • • •

At breakfast the next morning, Lizzie and Zack both have their eyes trained on the doorway, eagerly awaiting Rita and Mei's sparkly entrance. I don't even try to play along— I can't take the lie that far. Most of me regrets doing it at all, but what's done is done, and I can't take it back.

When Lizzie's eyes widen and Zack's jaw drops, I don't even have to turn around to know what they're looking at. But I do anyway, because looking at their disappointed faces is harder to handle that I realized it would be.

Sure enough, Rita and Mei have just walked through the open doors and are sauntering up to the short breakfast line, fashionably late and totally glitter-free.

"That's... how is that even possible?" Lizzie continues to stare, dumbfounded. She sighs and crosses her arms on the table in front of her tray, pouting. "So much for that bright idea."

"It was a good idea," Zack places a comforting hand on her shoulder, but his brows are furrowed over his eyes, which are still focused on Rita.

"He's right," I agree, because it really was a good idea. If I'd held up my part of the plan, the two of them would've been totally screwed.

Lizzie frowns, shaking her head. "I have to give them credit. That is really impressive."

"For once I'm actually worried," Zack admits. "If they can manage this, who knows what they'll come up with for revenge?"

I nod, knowing the action is just another lie to add to my growing list. Rita and Mei won't retaliate, because it's still our turn.

I've just put an end to the war, and managed to keep my friends in the process— so why do I feel like I'm so in the wrong?

If there's one thing to be grateful for, it's that today is a workshop day, because it gives me time away from Lizzie and Zack. It's easier to deny my guilt when I'm not face to disappointed face with the consequences of my choice. As I roam the grounds taking pictures, I keep wondering if I'll ever be able to forget what I did to them.

What you did for them, part of my brain argues. As in, stopping them from getting kicked out of camp.

That wasn't my decision to make, the guilty part bites back.

I look out to the shore with my camera, wondering if I should come clean. It would defeat the purpose of what I did in the first place, since they'd no doubt hate me for it. But maybe I'd rather live with that than with this sick feeling.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I nearly jump out of my skin when someone places their hand on my shoulder. If it weren't for the strap around my neck, my camera would've been lost to the unforgiving sand beneath my feet.

"Whoa!" Ethan holds up his hands, flinching backwards at my reaction. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

I blush, trying to hide how surprised I am to see him. After what happened the other night, I've been wondering if he'd ever talk to me again, and decided I couldn't blame him if he didn't. He confessed his feelings for me and I just stood there. I've been too nervous to talk to him since, and he hasn't been behind the buffet serving out meals for the past three days, which has made avoiding him easy. Maybe easier than I would've liked.

"It's okay," I say, shaking my head and trying to gather my thoughts, trying to figure out what to say. I've been so distracted by the glitter prank that I've barely had any time to think about how to apologize, how to tell him that I'm caught up on him, too. "I was just... spacing."

"Got a lot on your mind?"

I offer a smile, silently wondering which one of us will have the guts to bring up movie night first. Or won't we? Will it just be another part of camp I'll try to forget about when it's over? "You could say that."

He nods, and there are a few quiet seconds between us, filled only by the sound of the waves lapping at the shore.

"I wanted to apologize for being so harsh the other night," he breaks the silence. For once, he's avoiding eye contact, looking out at the horizon instead of at me. "And for walking off like I did. I guess I was just... moping. Rejection's never easy."

"That wasn't rejection," I blurt, grabbing at the chance to fix things without hesitation.

Ethan's eyes finally snap to mine, his brows rising.

"Ethan, I like you. A lot," I confess. Even with him admitting having feelings of his own, it's still nerve-wracking enough to get my heart pounding in my chest. "And up until a few days ago, I thought I was pretty terrible at hiding it."

His eyes go wide, and a smile tugs at his lips. I should be ecstatic right now, I should be riding the wave of butterflies that are soaring through my veins. But the weight of what I did to my friends taints my elation, and a sharp realization cuts through any happiness that managed to seep through: maybe I don't need to be alone to protect myself, but to protect everyone else.

I shake my head, not even knowing what to say. "But..."

Ethan grins, and my heart aches a little more at the sight of his unrelenting optimism. "But?"

I swallow, sighing. "But I think I'm learning that I forgot how to be someone's friend. Let alone anything else."

His expression drops into concern, and I can tell it isn't just from another rebuff. He meant what he said yesterday, about caring for me, and it's written all over his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... I mean I'm selfish. I mean that I'm so scared of being left alone again that I'll hurt the people I care about just to prevent it from happening. I mean that maybe that means I deserve to be alone."

"Del... I don't understand. Did something happen?" he asks, reaching to place a comforting hand on my arm.

I sidestep it, speaking over the lump in my throat. "I messed up. It doesn't matter," I lie, too ashamed to go into the specifics of what I did. What would he think of me? "You don't have to worry about the prank war anymore— it's over. I have to get back to class."

With that I walk away, reversing the roles of our last conversation and leaving him behind. All I wanted was to do the right thing— but maybe I'm not even sure what that is anymore.

thank you guys so much for the warm welcome back!! 💚