“I think we won,” said Wesley.
“We should assume that we came in last place,” said Nikhil. “That way, we’ll be sure to be happy with whatever place we came in.”
“We should hope we got first, though,” said Gabe. His hair was not gelled at all, just plain and in need of a haircut.
“Hope it, okay,” said Nikhil, “but be ready for any result, just in case.”
“I’m ready to win,” said Wesley.
The loudspeakers crackled and then began broadcasting the music of a violin quartet. It was a complicated, lively tune, and though some kids looked confused and one stood up and began to wave his arms as though he were conducting, everyone stopped talking to listen. A procession started onto the stage: first the teachers, then the nurse and librarian, then the administrators, and finally the director of the camp. The staff formed a line at the top of the stage, and the director stood in the center wearing a red hat, a green shirt, blue shorts, and knee-high yellow socks. The music stopped, and all the campers applauded. Then the staff on stage began applauding too, but pointing their hands at the campers.
“Welcome to the Color War closing ceremonies,” the director said. “That wonderful music you just heard was Color War Opus in E-flat, composed and performed by Summer Center campers from four summers ago.”
Everyone clapped again.
“Before I read the final scores and announce the winner,” the director continued, “I’d like you all to give yourselves a HUGE round of applause. You all did an excellent job. What a stimulating, enriching, fun few days we’ve had!”
A couple of days ago, they all would have jumped to their feet and begun chanting cheers about their teams. But the scores were already tallied, and classes were already back in session. All anyone cared about now was the results.
“Without further ado,” the director said, “I have the Color War results.” She pulled out a multicolored envelope, and a whole roomful of bodies shifted closer to the edge of their seats. “The award for best sportsmanship goes to … the RED TEAM!”
The Red team cheered, but the other three teams cheered louder. Everyone knew the sportsmanship award never went to the team that had won.
“The award for best team spirit goes to … the YELLOW team!” In honor of the yellow team’s sing-off performance, she added in a robotic voice, “Or should I say the 10010 team.”
“We had to win it,” Wesley said excitedly. “That leaves just us and Blue, and only we had red sand!”
Gabe swallowed but kept quiet. What were the odds that the red sand would make the difference between winning and losing, that his sharing with Amanda would push her team over the edge and leave Green in second place?
“And now for the final scores. In fourth place, with 470 points … is the RED team!”
The Red team was clearly bummed, and they stayed that way despite their counselors’ pretending fourth was the best place to be.
“I’m going to have to announce the rest in a somewhat different way,” the director said, “because we had something incredibly rare happen. We have two teams tied for second place, with 525 points each.”
A symphony of murmers and whispers went through the crowd.
“But the winning team …”—the director paused and let the suspense hang there—“won us over with their team spirit and sportsmanship and fantastic sing-off performance. With 655 points, it’s the YELLOW team!”
The yellow team sprang to their feet and began screaming and jumping on top of one another.
“Tied for second,” Nikhil said proudly. “I was expecting fourth.”
Wesley kicked the seat in front of him. “I can’t believe we came in second. And that we tied with Blue.”
“At least we beat Red,” Gabe said, resigned. “And they knew about the milk snake.”
Wesley covered his eyes. “Watch out, Gabe. Here comes Amanda Wisznewski, and she’s probably going to say we copied her by coming in second.”
Gabe couldn’t help but laugh, even as he shook his head. What she should do was thank him; if he hadn’t shared his sand, Blue would be third to Green’s second. But she probably would say exactly what Wesley predicted.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “We tied. You know what that means,” she said.
Gabe and Wesley and Nikhil waited.
Amanda smiled. “We’re meant to be.”