“Yay,” Sue-Ellen says flatly. If this girl wasn’t my biggest competition, I’d warn her against complaining, so that she doesn’t get a bad edit, like Cori’s friend. But I think I’ll keep that tidbit to myself.
“Think about it as anauthenticsummer camp experience.” Gabby grabs Sue-Ellen’s duffel bag and slings it over her shoulder. “Cleo, you’ve got a free hand, can you help out?” she says, pointing to the garment bags.
I smile, like nothing would please me more than to carry this bitch’s red carpet looks. “Of course,” I say. Sue-Ellen doesn’t thank me.
“Alright ladies, let’s go!” Gabby calls in a singsong voice. “Off to start the greatest adventure of your lives!”
Chapter Seven
The lake, with its glittering, cobalt water and majestic, towering pines, is beautiful, and after a long, serene paddle, we pull the canoes onto a rocky beach and follow Gabby up a narrow path between the trees, arriving in a large, dusty clearing.
“Welcome!” Gabby says, throwing her arms up, taking her place under a flagpole in the center of the clearing. Along the periphery of the tree line are four buildings of varying sizes and states of disrepair. It’s like the magnificence of the lake existed in a different universe than this shambolic scene.
We trade nervous glances, and Sue-Ellen breaks the silence. “We’re being pranked, right?”
It’s a fair question. We were told “sexy summer camp for twenty-something singles,” but what we have here is more “end-days barracks decommissioned twenty-something years ago.”
“What makes you think that?” Gabby asks. She has that innocent, irrepressible smile, but she’s definitely messing with us. This is not a reality TV set. There are no neon signs, no plush day beds, no sparkling pool with whimsical blow-up toys. This is a place where you’re more likely to get a staph infection than fall in love.
“The first thing you need to know is that this, the flagpole, is our meeting spot, so any time you hear this—” she picks up an old-fashionedbell and gives it a violent shake “—you drop what you’re doing and come straight here, okay?” I nod along with the others, the bell still ringing in my ears. “Ready for the tour?”
No one moves. No one speaks.
“I said, are you ready for the tour?!” Gabby says, as if she’s trying to warm up the crowd at a wrestling match.
We make weak noises of compliance. “Follow me!” she says, her enthusiasm undeterred. We fall into line behind her. “First, the Bunkhouse!” She points to our left, near the start of the beach path, where there are two long, T-shaped buildings marked ‘Girls’ and ‘Boys.’ The white paint on the plywood exterior is peeling and flaking, and the window frames are dark with rot. “That’s where the magic will happen!” She gives us an exaggerated wink, and waves for us to follow her. “All campers will be sharing the Girls bunkhouse for now. The Boys bunkhouse is locked, but maybe we’ll open it one day for some very special guests! Oop, watch your step there,” she says, pointing out a crack in one of the stairs leading up to the door.
“Is this even safe?” Valeria looks concerned as she indicates the way the whole building sags down the middle.
“Of course! Come on in.” Gabby pulls open the screen door and we follow her in. Despite there being several big windows down one side of the building, it’s dark and gloomy inside. I blink, forcing my eyes to adjust. And then I wish I hadn’t, because this is bleak.
A corridor runs down the center, and on both sides there are three open cubicles, each housing two bunk beds. The bed frames are made from shiny black metal, their newness at odds with the shabby surroundings.
“You’re going to love your brand-new beds and eight-hundred-count Egyptian cotton bedding,” Gabby says, showcasing the bunks as if she were on a game show.
“If you can find them,” Harmony mutters as she swats through a tangle of cobwebs stretching from one side of the cubicle to the other.
A loud sneeze echoes out from behind me. I turn to see Trina, hereyes and nose ringed red and running. Another sneeze. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “It’s the dust.”
“Not to worry! Whoever’s on first cleaning shift will take care of that.”
“Cleaning shift,” Harmony mouths to me, her face in exaggerated shock.
“What the hell?” I mouth back.
“We believe that the strongest connections are formed in the face of adversity,” Gabby says, looking right at me. I nod eagerly, as if I hadn’t just been shit-talking. “Anyway, ladies, claim your bunks! The bottom bunks, you’ll see, are queen-sized mattresses, and they’re all yours… unless you want to share with your bunkmates, of course. Otherwise, the top bunks are for the guys.”
Harmony grabs my arm. “Stick with me,” she says. After making polite chit-chat in the canoe on our way to the island, it seems this gorgeous, brilliant woman has chosen me to be her friend, and I’m thrilled about it. She’s destined to be a fan favourite, and she’ll make a good ally. She hoists her suitcase onto the nearest bed, then tosses mine onto the bunk opposite.
“Hey, what are those?” Valeria asks, pointing to a square metal plate on the wall at the head of each bunk. In the middle of each plate is a domed glass bubble with a fuzzy knob underneath.
“Those are the cameras and microphones, of course! If you look closely,” Gabby says, pointing to the rafters and corners, “you’ll notice that there are cameraseverywhere, over seventy in total. They are all around the camp—indoors, outdoors, even on the trees and at the beach, so you’realwaysbeing watched.” I shudder. “We have cameramen, of course, but they’ll mostly fade into the background. Except for your dates and challenges, you won’t even notice them.”
I suddenly feel the eyes of a dozen cameras on me. Are they already watching?
“The bathrooms, at the far end of the building, are the only places that there are no cameras, for obvious reasons. But you’ll still be wearing your mics, so no secret convos! We can hear every word!”
I glance around, a quick temperature check. From their wide eyes and slack jaws, the other girls seem as uneasy as I am.
