10

The dining hall was the large building that I’d noticed earlier at the far end of the field. Hazel and I walked through the double doors together.

Not only did the dining hall look different from the school cafeteria, with wooden tables and long benches instead of plastic chairs. It felt different. No one was saving seats. The dining hall seemed like a nice sunny place to eat. Not a place to survive.

“Abby!” called Oliver from across the room. “Over here!”

I waved, hoping that would be enough. But Oliver began making large circular motions with his arms, signaling for me to come over.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Hazel.

If I was going to pull off this belonging thing, Oliver was going to have to tone it down. No one could know that we knew each other from home.

“Hey, Abby,” said Oliver. “Are you okay? Do you like your cabin? Is your bed comfortable? Do you want me to show you around this afternoon during free time? There’s a reading spot near the campfire circle that feels like an earth hammock. You’ll love it. We could each bring a book and—”

“That’s okay,” I interrupted. “Hazel just gave me a tour.”

“Did she show you the earth hammock?” Oliver scrunched his eyebrows together, doubtful. His glasses slipped down his nose.

“How’s your finger?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“My finger? What finger?” Oliver wiggled his fingers in front of his eyes. They all seemed perfectly fine.

“The one you hurt on the plane.”

“Oh, that finger. I think it’s all better now. Thank you for asking, Abby. But back to the earth hammock. I’m fairly certain that no one else knows about it. I discovered it all by myself on the second-to-last—”

“Oliver, I’m fine.”

The words came out sharper than I intended. Oliver was making me nervous. He seemed like the same exact Oliver from school. The same jiggly energy. The same speedy brain power mixed with a tinge of cluelessness.

If Oliver was exactly the same person, maybe I was, too. I needed space to figure out how to be famous Abby. Oliver Frank was not good at space.

“Listen, Oliver,” I whispered. “Can we pretend that we don’t know each other?”

“Like, ignore each other? As if the other person doesn’t exist?”

“No, I mean, we can talk to each other. But let’s start as if we’re two strangers who met on the plane. Just like everyone else.”

“But I’m already friends with a lot of people here.” Oliver began pointing at kids around the dining hall, listing their names, ending with Kai Carter, who just happened to be walking past.

“Did someone say my name?” asked Kai, sliding to a stop in his black-and-white checkered sneakers. His hair fell across his forehead in a smooth swoop.

“I was just talking to a new camper,” said Oliver. “Her name is Abby. At least, I think that’s her name.”

It was impossible to ignore the sarcasm in Oliver’s voice. The way he stretched out the syllables in my name and rounded them off with a hint of hurt. I was used to Oliver shrugging things off. I’d certainly seen him do it at school. Had I really hurt his feelings?

I promised myself that I’d make it up to him. Once things settled down. Once everyone got to know the famous me. Once . . .

“Do you guys want to sit together?” asked Kai.

. . . once I had lunch with Kai Carter! After that I would totally figure out how to make things right with Oliver.

It had been a long time since breakfast, and the food at Camp Famous was amazing. I pushed my tray through the buffet line of nachos dripping with cheese, chicken fingers with three kinds of dipping sauce, and French fries so crispy that they crunched between my teeth before coating my mouth in soft potato perfection. For dessert there were mini cupcakes with a single gummy bear sitting atop the icing peak.

Kai, Oliver, and I sat at one end of a rectangular table. Bells, Willa, and Hazel sat at the other. Bells made kissing faces at me when Kai wasn’t looking. You would think a princess would have better table manners!

“So, uh, Kai,” I said. “What’s your favorite song?”

I was trying to make a subtle stop-embarrassing-me face at Bells when Kai surprised me by answering, “Tough one. I’m going to have to go with ‘The Itsy-bitsy Spider.’”

I almost choked on my gummy bear. “As in, the spider who climbed up the water spout?”

“‘Then down came the rain and washed the spider out,’” sang Kai.

Not only could Kai make a grungy red sweatshirt look like the hottest fashion item, he could make a nursery rhyme sound like a top hit. I’d never felt such sympathy for that determined little spider.

“I know it’s a little kid song,” continued Kai, “but my grandma used to sing it to me when she came to visit. It just makes me happy.”

“That’s how I feel about ‘How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?’”

“The one with the waggly tail?” asked Kai, smiling.

“Yes! Because he sounds so cute and lovable and what if he’s not for sale? That would be so sad.”

“Tragic,” agreed Kai.

“My grandma used to sing that song to me before bed,” I said. “One time she recorded it so my mom could play it for me when I missed her.”

“Same!” said Kai.

“Your mom played recordings of my grandma?”

It was a risky joke. What if Kai Carter thought I was serious? What if he pulled up the hood of his red sweatshirt, tightened the drawstrings, and never spoke to me again?

But then, after the longest pause of my entire life, Kai laughed. “That would be major-league creepy.”

And I almost died with relief.

When lunch ended, we carried our plates and silverware to the back of the dining hall, sorting them into large containers of soapy water. Joe stood at the doors to the dining hall, directing everyone back to their cabins for rest hour.

There was moaning and groaning, as if Joe had announced a surprise math quiz. But I couldn’t wait to get back to Cabin Tranquility. Rest hour was probably my best chance to write in my notebook.

My fingers twitched just thinking about all that I needed to get down.