Free Girl on the Run by B. R. Myers Page B

most of the camp. I imagined what they must be thinking.
    Kirk’s hand slipped around my elbow, and he pulled me close to the ladder again, watching me carefully. I couldn’t even look him in the eye; instead I studied the dimple in his chin. Not a lot of guys have that. “Besides,” he said, his voice became softer, “you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you go.”
    I stared down into the dark water below my feet. Somewhere down there was my necklace, resting in the eelgrass forever.
    â€œCome on,” he said, motioning toward the beach. “You’re shaking.”
    I swam ahead of him without talking. I trudged out of the water like a zombie and kept walking, ignoring everyone around me.
    â€œWait.” Kirk was running beside me in his soaking wet clothes. He must have jumped in after me without hesitating, not even wasting time to take off his shirt.
    â€œLeave me alone,” I sighed. When I reached the bottom of my cabin’s steps, the boys had gone back inside. I could hear them laughing. My hand gripped the railing. I raced to the door and flung it open.
    Their heads swivelled in my direction. I stood in the doorway, dripping and breathing hard. Silence fell on the room.
    Finally, Spencer spoke. “Did you get in trouble too?”
    They exploded with laughter.
    â€œMy necklace is gone,” was all I could say. My voice quivered at the last part. “And you little shits are to blame.”
    Liam walked over to me and held his hands out by his sides. “J.J.,” he said. “I’m really sorry.” He gave me a small hug. A bit of my anger melted away; then I realized he was hugging me a little too long and that his head had found a nice place to rest on my chest right between my boobs.
    â€œPervert!” I pushed him away and stormed to my bedroom, slamming my door on their new bout of laughter. I ached all over and my head felt like it was full of sand. I changed into dry clothes and crawled into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin. I guess we were all grounded to the cabin for the afternoon.
    A light knocking woke me up. I checked my watch, and saw it was almost suppertime. Worried that the boys might have killed each other or set the cabin on fire, I crawled out of bed and opened the door. Scotty stood there, looking at his sneakers.
    â€œUm…are you coming with us? Like, for supper?”
    â€œYeah,” My voice sounded like gravel. “We’ll leave in ten minutes.”
    I combed out my tangled hair and piled it up into a loose bun, then added my headband. My hand went to my bare neck. I zipped up my hoodie to the very top and rubbed my face with my hands, determined not to cry—I couldn’t go to supper with red eyes. Lewis’s sweatpants were folded and lying on top of my still unpacked duffel bag. I grabbed them and left the room.
    Supper was bacon cheeseburgers and macaroni salad. I pushed a noodle around the plate with my fork, trying to be invisible. My little stunt this afternoon was great gossip. Bits of the story would come floating over from conversations close to our table. I snuck a look over at Kirk’s usual spot, but he wasn’t there.
    â€œHello, Cabin 4A.” Lacey stood by our table wearing her best debutante smile.
    â€œHi, Lacey,” Scotty said. The other three goons didn’t even break a smile.
    â€œJazzy,” she said. “Soccer starts in half an hour.” She paused and waited for me to clue in. A short huff was followed by, “Don’t you read your camp schedule?”
    â€œYeah,” I lied. I’d been checking it after each activity, not memorizing the whole day. Since Spencer seemed to be hell bent on sabotaging everything, what was the point? “Um, so soccer,” I said. “What about it?”
    â€œIt’s some of the counsellors against their kids.” She paused and flicked her ponytail. “Anyway, if you’re too