Ann Martin - Mary Anne And Camp

look at each other because we knew we would burst out laughing. Instead we jumped up and started clearing the table.

Sharon went upstairs to help Dad pack and in no time at all he trotted back down the stairs holding his suitbag and suitcase. "Time to hit the road," he announced.

We drove to the airport. Dad reminded Sharon about the oil. Sharon teased Dad about what a wild time we were going to have "baching it" while he was away.

"Just don't forget to call," Dad said.

We were there in plenty of time for his flight, of course. We walked Dad to the metal detector. He hugged us good-bye. I hugged him hard, feeling a sudden, unexpected lump in my throat.

" 'Bye, Dad," I said, swallowing hard and feeling a little misty-eyed.

He gave me another quick squeeze, kissed Sharon, and walked through the metal detector, around the corner, and out of sight.

And suddenly I felt abandoned. Lost. Left behind.

It was so weird. I mean, I knew where Dad was going and I knew when he'd be back and I was looking forward to hanging out with Sharon and Dawn Schafer.

But still. It was a very strong, very unhappy feeling.

Fortunately Dawn and Sharon didn't seem to notice. Sharon stared after my dad for a moment, then turned to face us with a huge smile.

"Surf's up!" she said.

"Aw, Mom," said Dawn, but she was grinning, too. They were in high spirits, and they stayed that way all the way home. I smiled and made myself join in, but I still couldn't shake that little-kid, I-miss-my-dad feeling.

Stop that, I told myself sternly. You are grown-up. You are not Mary Anne the little kid in braids anymore.

But it didn't help.

"Let's have a stupid videos night," said Sharon as we returned to Stoneybrook.

"Great idea," said Dawn.

"Stupid videos?" I asked.

"Yeah, you know, Mary Anne. We'll watch dumb, nonmeaningful videos. Silly ones. Funny ones. And we'll goof on them and eat popcorn."

"And throw it at the screen during the dumbest scenes," Sharon said.

"Oh," I said.

Sharon zipped the car into the parking lot of the Stoneybrook MegaVideo and said, "Okay, we can each choose one video."

Sharon and Dawn went wild in the video store. Oh, not like little kids, running around

and screaming or anything. But they would grab a video and say, "Listen to this," and read the back of it aloud to each other. (And to me, at first. But I admit, I felt kind of embarrassed so I slid over to another aisle.)

Dawn chose a video called Plan Nine From Outer Space. Sharon found "maximum stupid video potential" in an old Elvis Presley movie called Girls, Girls, Girls. I grabbed a movie called Buffy the Vampire Slayer at the last minute.

I didn't know if it would qualify or not, but the blues that I'd been feeling ever since my dad had disappeared from sight suddenly made decision-making extremely difficult.

We decided to watch them in alphabetical order (my idea) and Buffy wasn't bad. Or maybe I mean it wasn't good. Anyway, we all laughed at it. Then we sent out for Chinese food. In no time at all Chinese food containers were all over the place.

We watched part of the second movie and then we made popcorn. Some of the empty and half-empty Chinese food containers made it back to the kitchen and maybe one of them made it into the garbage.

But a lot of them stayed where they'd been set down on the coffee table and the end tables and even on the floor. A lot of popcorn also ended up on the floor, because Sharon had

been serious about throwing popcorn at the movie during the parts she didn't like.

"Oh, no!" she shrieked. "Elvis is going to sing!"

She and Dawn launched a storm of popcorn at the television.

"Got him!" Dawn announced, laughing breathlessly. "Right between the eyes! Did you see, Mary Anne?"

"Great shot!" I said, trying to sound as if I were having fun.

But I wasn't. After awhile (as we were watching Elvis look deep into a girl's eyes as he sang) I yawned. "We have a busy day tomorrow," I said.

Sharon replied, "Yes. But that's half the fun of staying up late, isn't it?"

I said, "Well, I think I'll go on to bed."

"Okay." Sharon launched another popcorn attack. "Two handfuls down on that scene!" Then she said, "Uh-oh, we're almost out of popcorn."

"I'll make some," said Dawn, standing up. "Quick, pause it until I get back."

"You want me to help clean up before I go to bed?" I asked.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Mary Anne. We're bachelor girls now," said Sharon. "Sleep tight, dear."

"Good night," I said.

"Dragme out of bed in the morning, and don't let me complain, okay?" said Dawn.

"Sure," I said.

I went to bed feeling left out. Dawn and her mother had grown closer since Dawn had returned from California and I was glad of that.

But it made me miss my father even more — and I hadn't expected to miss him at all.

Chapter 7.

Dawn's brilliant idea had been a hit with all the BSC members and the kids. The morning of the hike was spent talking about visiting the Stones' farm and organic farming and all the animals that might live on the Stone farm and in the woods around their house. After lunch, the campers were going to take a Nature Hike, down the road to the Stones' farm. They were going to walk along an old path in the wooded area behind the fields and houses that lined Burnt Hill Road.

Everybody was excited about the trip.

Except Alicia.

Neither Kristy nor anyone else was surprised.

Kristy announced, "Everybody get a buddy for the hike," and a mad scramble ensued.

Except for Alicia. "No," she said.

"But Alicia, we've been talking about this all-day," said Dawn.

Alicia blinked rapidly, as if she might be trying not to cry, and I felt sorry for her.

Dawn didn't seem to notice. "Your mom knows where you are. She knows we're going on this trip. Remember? You and Bobby took a note home to your parents that told them about it."

"No," said Alicia.

"You don't remember taking the note home? Or — "

"She doesn't want to go," I said, coming to Alicia's rescue.

"But ..." Dawn's voice trailed off. She looked at me. "Does that mean you're not coming? That you're going to stay here with her?"

"Of course," I said. "I don't mind. Why make Alicia miserable?"

Kristy said, "Right," briskly, as if she were washing her hands of the problem. She raised her voice. "Okay, everybody, have you got your partners, your buddies?"

Karen said, ."My partner has to be a real circus person." She was clearly disgusted because Hannie and Nancy had already decided to be partners.

Fortunately, before anyone's feelings could get hurt, Ricky said, "I'll be your partner, Karen."

"Good," Kristy said. She looked around and saw that Claire's face was turning red and recognized the signs of a tantrum. (Claire doesn't have tantrums as often as she used to, but the signs are still the same: a red face, a lower lip jutting out, and then the shriek of "Nofe air" — which means no fair.)

"What is it, Claire?" asked Kristy.

"No buddy," said Claire.