Free Tug-of-War by Katy Grant Page B

I said defensively. “Anyway, why would I do it? Devon and I are friends.” The minute I said that, I felt bad. It made it sound like I thought Maggie was the obvious culprit because she and Devon
weren’t
friends.
    I turned to Devon. “I didn’t do it. Honestly. I know how you feel about your lip gloss.”
    Everyone laughed, but I hadn’t meant it as a joke. I glanced around at the others. “Anyone ready to admit to this brilliant joke?” I asked.
    But everyone kept quiet, and we were all looking at each other, waiting for someone to step forward.
    I was seriously expecting someone to say something. Obviously, Maggie was the logical suspect, but I knew she couldn’t have done it.
    I looked at Maggie sitting on her top bunk. She was combing the fur on her gorilla socks, a habit she had because she knew it drove Devon crazy. It looked like she was grooming a couple of black terriers stuck on the ends of her legs.
    â€œMaybe Devon did it to herself,” said Maggie, from her perch above the rest of us. “Any of you Sherlocks think of that?”
    Devon looked up at us. “Yeah, right. I would never waste makeup like that.”
    We all cracked up over that comment. Even Devon couldn’t keep from smiling this time, although she tried very hard not to.
    Still, I couldn’t help wondering. I knew Maggie hadn’t done it.
    So who had?

Saturday, June 21
    â€œDevon, for the last time, don’t come near me with that thing,” I warned.
    â€œChris, you might like it. Just let me do one strand.”
    Devon waved her hair straightener around in front of me, but I backed away. “No. Absolutely not,” I said firmly, so she gave up and went back to straightening her own hair instead.
    We were in Middler Lodge, along with about five or six other people who were getting ready for the Camp Crockett dance. Since the cabins didn’t have electrical outlets, the lodge was the one place we could plug in hair dryers and straighteners.
    Shelby and Kayla were with us too, and while Shelby waited a turn to borrow Claudia Ogilvie’s hair dryer,Kayla sat at the piano pushed up against the far wall and played a classical song that sounded familiar. Her fingers rippled up and down the keyboard, never missing a note.
    â€œWow, you’re good,” I told her. I liked Kayla, but she was sort of reserved.
    â€œThanks. It’s horribly out of tune, though.”
    â€œHey, Devon, could I borrow your hair straightener when you’re done? I’ve never tried it before,” said Brittany, a girl from Cabin One.
    â€œOf course. Your hair will look amazing when you’re finished,” Devon told her. Brittany already had fairly straight hair to begin with, so I didn’t really see the point, but who was I to discourage experimenting with a new look today?
    Everyone was so excited about the dance, even though the counselors were acting like they didn’t know why so many girls were standing in lines for the showers. It was a little mind game they played about whether we were actually having a dance tonight.
    I was glad to borrow Claudia’s hair dryer, because it took forever for my thick hair to dry. Ordinarily, I didn’t mind just running a comb through it a couple of times and letting it air dry, but today I was paying a little more attention to my appearance.
    In just a few short hours, I’d be seeing Maggie’s brother, Jackson.
    â€œIf I can’t touch your hair, can I at least do your makeup?” asked Devon.
    â€œOkay,” I agreed, “but keep it light. I don’t want to overdo it.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I happen to be an expert at this,” said Devon.
    â€œI know. I trust you,” I told her. I sat still on one of the wooden benches and closed my eyes. Devon’s makeup brush stroked my face, and I tried to keep from scratching my nose. Kayla’s playing was nice background music while we got