I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M seeing.
Apparently, the boys of bunks 11A and B are on kitchen duty this morning, too. They don’t notice us as the huge crowd of them bounce around and sing along. I almost die when I realize Ethan and Heath know every word to London’s song. Dirk, Kyle, and a bunch of other guys are banging on things while Justin uses a metal pot and two spoons as a drum. The best part is Beaver and Ethan singing with wooden spoons. They are belting out London’s lyrics as if their lives depend on it. Ethan even gives a little air kick. He’s in mid-riff when he sees Lina and me. We both start to laugh.
“You two do not get off that easily!” Ethan says and pulls us inside the bright silver kitchen with industrial appliances and long countertops. Everything gleams in the early morning light. Beaver is a stickler for a sparkling kitchen. “Kyle, grab Lina!” Lina is stiff as a board as Kyle takes her by the hand.
“We’re testing out a little mood music. Your brother says it will inspire me. What do you want to rock out to next?” Beaver goes to his iPod dock. “Another London song?”
“Yes!” Lina manages to say, even though Kyle is holding her hand.
“I heard this one is her next single.” He fires it up. “Have you heard it yet?”
Kyle and I exchange glances. McDaddy did the video already. “I think so,” I say.
Beaver throws Lina and me each a wooden spoon. “Then let’s hear it!”
Lina and I look at each other. “If I can survive a mud bath, you can sing in front of my brother,” I whisper in her ear. “Make him want to ask you to the canteen again.”
Her eyes widen. “Will he?” she squeaks.
“Come on, Adventure Barbie!” I say. That’s what we call each other now as a joke—I’m Camping Barbie, she’s Adventure Barbie. “You won’t know if you don’t try it.” I lean into her and start to sing the song. Lina looks like a deer caught in headlights at first, but I start making all these goofy faces and she starts to laugh.
Justin uses his wooden spoon to make music on all the hanging pans. Two guys from the other bunk have pots on their heads and are dancing behind me. I sing louder, and Beaver joins me on the chorus. He knows every word of London’s song! I notice Ethan standing near one of the counters watching us and I dance on over.
“You don’t want to sing?” I yell over the commotion. All this singing and dancing at seven a.m. has put me in a good mood. “I know you know the words.”
“And you know that how?” Ethan asks, smiling.
“I saw you singing on the last one,” I say. “Come on!” This time I grab his hand and pull him into the middle of the room with me. At first Ethan just stands there, but he can’t ignore the beat and finally starts to sing into my spoon. I join him. Then he spins me around like a top. I’m sort of dizzy after that, and Ethan reaches out and steadies me. I’m disappointed when the song is over.
“That was great!” Beaver marvels. “I wish we had taped it to send to London.” We all groan. “Why not?” He places his hands on his hips. “We were good!”
“Maybe we should take our act to the talent show,” Justin suggests.
“I could juggle while you guys sing,” says Dirk, who grabs a few strawberries and begins his routine. A few of the other guys try to join him.
Beaver holds up a hand to stop them. “We need those. Don’t drop them.”
Kyle moans. “Come on, Beaver. Let’s try juggling kitchen utensils next. They do that all the time on Daredevil.”
“You watch Daredevil, too?” Lina freaks out. “I live for that show!”
“Xtreme Sport Television, Exotic Sports Locales, and Daredevil are my faves,” Kyle says.
I see Lina start to twitch. Now that she has realized Kyle is into her, she doesn’t know how to act. As much as I do not want this pairing, I can’t let her hang out there to dry. “Lina also loves Armed and Dangerous,” I say, and notice Ethan watching me.
“That’s the one with the guy with no legs, right?” Kyle is getting excited. “That dude is awesome! Did you see when he went skydiving?”
“Yes!” Lina’s too into the topic to panic now. “That time the dude went—”
“You two—talk about skydiving while you set the tables,” interrupts Beaver. Lina begins to blush, but I nudge her forward. “The rest of you guys tackle cleanup duty.” The other bunk groans. I notice Heath, Dirk, and Justin hanging back to avoid being handed a mop, but Beaver is too smart for them. He walks right over with a bucket and Windex. “We got an early morning delivery and they tracked dirt in, so I need you guys to make it sparkle again.” Justin and Dirk salute, then take the guys with them through the kitchen’s swinging doors. Beaver points to Ethan and me. “You two prep the strawberries and the melons. I have to check on the bagel delivery.”
Ethan and I move over to the prep table where the strawberries are waiting. The London CD is still playing in the background, and I can smell the pancake batter Beaver whipped up. A few days ago, this huge kitchen with its fancy appliances stressed me out, but since Beaver has shown me where things are, I feel more comfortable. The only thing making me feel weird right now is being alone with Ethan. He grabs a few melons and gets to work. I begin chopping strawberries. The two of us work quietly side by side, but it feels strange to not be talking.
“So,” Ethan says suddenly as he dices melon. “How have you been?”
I try to concentrate on my strawberries, but my mouth starts to twitch. “You mean since I saw you yesterday when we had a group sailing lesson?”
I see him blush. “It’s been twenty-four hours.”
“You can admit it,” I joke. “Twenty-four hours is too long to go without seeing me, I know.”
He smirks. “Kyle’s right. You can be funny.” I bow. “When you’re not shoving mud in my face.”
“You deserved that.” I take another few strawberries and place them on the cutting board. I stop when I realize Ethan is watching me. “What?”
“You dice pretty well,” he says.
“I’m not completely helpless,” I say with a laugh. “I cut a mean pineapple, too, but I can’t stand cutting kiwi even if I do love to eat it. Too much work.”
“So are potatoes,” Ethan says. “I know they’re not fruit, but I hate peeling them. Somehow I always get stuck with them on Thanksgiving and here when Beaver is on a homemade french fry kick.” He grins. “Can’t he just use the frozen ones?”
“No way! Put love in it, and it tastes better.” I drop a few more strawberries into the bowl. I’m quiet for a second, and the only sound I hear are our knives. “Beaver taught me that in cooking class. I really like that elective. Karate, not so much.”
Ethan turns to the prep sink and washes another melon. “So the Pines isn’t killing you slowly, like you thought it would?”
I wash off another pint of strawberries. “I’m surviving, which is more than I thought I would last week. I still don’t like bugs, mud pits, or canoeing, and I can’t handle not having a phone! How can you stand not being able to check Facebook?”
Ethan shrugs. “The only updates I really care about are from people at the Pines with me already. I don’t think I’m missing out on much at home.”
“Well, I am missing out on a lot.” I mince a strawberry. “My friends and I had a lot of plans.”
“Slow down.” Ethan puts his hand on top of mine. “We’re not making preserves.”
I feel funny with our hands touching.
Ethan must, too, because he slowly removes his hand. “Kate must have freaked that you were coming here. I picture her micromanaging every detail of your summer ahead of time.”
I laugh. “That’s Kate.”
“She must really miss you,” Ethan says. “Has she sent you care packages? Jeanie’s always getting candy sent to her. Her best friend’s dad owns a candy store.”
I’m not sure which part of that question I want to tackle first. Kate hasn’t sent me anything. She’s just told me she wants to borrow all my clothes. I don’t really want to tell Ethan that. I’m not sure I want to ask about Jeanie, either, though, but I’m curious. “I heard from Kate yesterday,” I say, fudging things a bit. “She’s really busy with… stuff.” Ethan nods. “Does Jeanie give you some of that candy she gets?”
Ethan carves another slice of melon. “Yeah. She knows I love Skittles.”
Deep breath, Harper. “So how long have you two been going out?”
“What?” I watch as his hand slips, nicking his finger. “OUCH!” Ethan grabs his finger and sucks on it. “Ouch,” he mumbles again.
Oops. That might have been my fault.
“What are you? A vampire?” I look on the wall and spot the first-aid kit. I pull it down and grab Band-Aids and ointment. “Give me your finger,” I say, and Ethan does as he’s told. His cut doesn’t look too bad. I put on the prep sink faucet and run Ethan’s finger under the water, watching the blood disappear. Then I blot his finger with a clean towel and squirt ointment on it.
“Thanks,” Ethan says quietly.
“You’re welcome.” I grab a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid and put it on him.
Ethan looks at me. “Jeanie and I are not going out, by the way.” I can’t help thinking his warm brown eyes remind me of my teddy bear stashed under my comforter. “We’re just good friends. We have been for years.”
“Oh.” I try not to smile. “I just assumed from the way you two acted…”
“Just friends,” he says firmly. “And you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
The sound of the faucet dripping slowly behind me suddenly sounds magnified, as does the London Blue CD on play. The two of us just stand there. Ethan opens his mouth to speak, but Beaver busts back through the kitchen doors.
“The bagel delivery won’t be here in time!” His eyes are wild. “I knew this day would come! What are we going to do without bagels? Our next cereal delivery isn’t till tomorrow and I don’t have enough pancake batter on hand.”
“Good!” I say, and they both look at me strangely. “Aren’t you tired of making the same thing every morning? There’s got to be something else we can come up with.”
“Don’t say egg-white omelets with soy cheese,” Beaver interrupts. “You’re the only one who wants them. And we don’t have enough eggs to cook regular omelets for the rest of the camp.”
“You do not want the powdered ones, either,” Ethan says to me. “They’re nasty.”
I walk over to the giant fridge in the back of the room and open it up. It’s got a lot of labeled containers and premade food, but not a lot of supplies for breakfast. Then I spot the butter and the dozen or so loaves of bread calling my name. I grab one and show it to the others. “How about french toast?”
Beaver looks doubtful. “That’s just like pancakes.”
I’m insulted. “Not when I’m making it. I’ll show you.” I point to Ethan. “Fire up a griddle on the stove.”
He salutes. “Aye-aye, captain!”
I take the large butter and a dozen eggs out of the fridge. The two of them watch as I add a little milk and an egg to a bowl and some cinnamon and then vanilla. I whisk it all together, then let it sit for a second as I add butter to the hot griddle and watch it sizzle.
“You actually know what you’re doing over there,” Ethan says, watching me.
I dunk a piece of toast in the mixture and then place it on the griddle. Then I add several more while Beaver goes to find more bread. “Before we moved, my dad and I used to cook breakfast every Sunday. I can make a mean batch of s’mores brownies, too.”
“S’mores brownies?” Ethan asks. “That sounds like it has my chocolate chipper peanut butter cookies beat.” I stop flipping with my spatula in midair. “Yes, I’m a boy who can bake.” He smirks. “But don’t tell anyone. I keep it on the down low.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I say.
“Wow, that smells killer!” Kyle says as he walks back into the kitchen with the others. Even I have to admit the aroma is amazing. I love the smell of melted butter. He takes a piece from the pile and bites into it before Beaver can stop him. “Oh man, I forgot how good your french toast is. She can make awesome crepes, too,” Kyle tells the others.
Curiosity gets the better of Ethan. He grabs a piece and splits it in half with Beaver. Lina takes a slice and splits it with Kyle, Dirk, Justin, and Heath. Everyone murmurs how good it is as I continue to flip, then add more french toast and butter to the pan.
“I’m glad you signed up for my cooking class,” Beaver says. “You’ve got some skill. We can work with that.”
“I think you might have found your camp calling,” Justin says with his mouth full. Ethan winks at me.
I don’t say anything, but I can’t help but smile. Justin might be right.
Harper McAllister @HarperMc
Show the camp you can cook killer french toast and watch them beg for more! #survivingthesummer