Musically Gifted? Well, I Used to Play the Recorder...

Seventeen: Frolic in the Freezer Section

Seventeen: Frolic in the Freezer Section

Surprisingly, I’m able to make it into the second week of camp without any severe emotional (or physical) scarring.

            The whole Blake situation didn’t turn out too badly, either. Well, this is probably because he pretty much avoided all interaction with me afterward, returning his interest to his favorite point of attention – Cindy, and her double Ds.

            I’ve kind of got used to the lack of interest, actually, and learned to accept that Cindy DeLuna will always be the more perfect version of me, with her stupid neon bras and shiny flute (seriously – she will manage to drop that into any conversation. “So I was just playing my flute the other day,” or “That reminds me of the time at flute practice,” are heard so often I regularly get the feeling of wanting to shove said flute up her pretentious little butt).

            So you can imagine my mixed feelings when I am approached by a flustered looking Jenny, bearing the news that would either be the make or break of my love life. Kind of.

            “Bailey! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad I caught you!”

            I’m just on my way to the rec room for free time when she comes bounding up to me, slightly red in the face and short of breath. She looks stressed actually; there are dark circles under her eyes and a distinct lack of make-up on her face, which is usually present.

            “Yeah? What’s up?”

            A grimace shows me that it’s not good news. “We’ve had a bit of a crisis. See, one of our suppliers’ trucks has broken down, and so we’re missing a big delivery of stock. You know, stuff like toilet paper, soap, milk... we’re just generally missing a load of stuff.”

            “Oh, right.” Half of me wants to frown and query ‘So what does this have to do with me?’, but I don’t want to be rude to someone of a higher status than me. It’s quite within her power to recommend a pay decrease, which would definitely be unwelcome. Heck, after this summer, I think I deserve a freaking Nobel Prize or something.

            Wait... a Nobel Prize is for science, isn’t it?

            Ah, well. They should still give me one.

            “So...” Jenny shoots a hopeful look at me. She is fiddling with the collar of her dark blue polo, which is incredibly annoying. “I was kind of hoping you could do me a favor.”

            What I want to say is, “No, you can freaking shove your favor up your ass for shoving me with the crappiest cabin in the whole of camp,” but instead, my polite and respectful response is “Sure.”

            Which is probably wise. I’m not entirely sure why, but I’ve got a feeling the first option wouldn’t go down too well. You know, just a feeling.

            “Well, I was kind of hoping you could go down to the store and grab a couple of things...” Jenny says, closely studying my reaction. “It’s only a couple of miles out from here, and I’ll write you a list...”

            “Yeah, okay,” I say. There could be worse jobs, and it’s a chance to get out of this camp for a couple of hours. I think I’ve forgotten what civilization looks like.

            Instantly, Jenny’s face brightens, a grin spreading across her face and lifting her lightly freckled cheeks. “Thank you so much! Blake’s got his car here, so you two can go together...”