Mastermind [H.S.]

chapter one

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*･༓☽
June 13, 1987

Growing up, the summer solstice was my favorite time of year. The sun begins to set later in the evening, school is out, and friends are always hanging around. Now that I have reached the age of involuntary employment, or nineteen, my summer solstice will be spent at Camp Summer Lake where I will be counseling a group of pre-pubescent teenagers to refrain from having sex or sneaking drugs in their cabins. As much as I have complained about this adventure that my father sees as room for me to grow and find myself before university, I have no choice but to go.

Tomorrow morning I will be making the drive with Madison, my best, and only, friend to the camp. The only way I could get through this grueling summer is if she is with me through it. Madison Levine was my polar opposite in a plethora of ways. Her hair is blonde, long, and pin-straight. She wears rose-colored blush and lipgloss. Her wardrobe consists of the brightest colors in the rainbow and funky pairs of earrings to match whatever her vibe is that day. She idolizes people like Duran Duran and Bowie. Yet, somehow, she is my platonic soulmate in this life.

"You cannot bring all of that, Quinn." Madison lets out a cackling laugh, her body bending forward in hysteria. "We'll only be gone for two months, not two years! Why do you need to bring your entire record player and every single record?"

I stand there blankly, a box of records in hand. "You think I am going to go two months without each of my Bon Jovi records, you're delusional." I laugh with her, setting the box down next to my Schneider SSS Stereo portable record player which was the brightest shade of orange.

"Whatever. At least there will probably be a bunch of hot muscular guys to help you unload it into your cabin." She teases, laying back on my bed, flipping through the yearbooks that we received yesterday. "I cannot believe we graduated yesterday." She gawks.

I shrug my shoulders. "Happiest day of my life was getting the hell out of East Holland High."

Madison shrugs off my comment and continues flipping through the Class of 1987 East Holland High School yearbook. All of her things were packed neatly into two large pink suitcases and loaded into the back of her mom's old hatchback. As I zip up the single suitcase, I have to sit on top of it to squish everything down and almost break a sweat trying to get the zipper around the other side. Finally, I do, and then I fall back down on my bedroom floor, my dark hair falling all around me.

"Madison?" I lift myself up and peer up at her sitting on the bed.

"Mhm?" She responds, not looking away from that damn yearbook. She has been on the same page. She is probably just admiring Joey Ventura's picture.

"You don't think we need to worry about that 'Oregon Killer' shit from the news, right?" My heart drops even thinking about it.

She finally looks away from the book and looks down at me from the bed. "Is that what they're calling him now? God, no, Quinn. And don't you dare start with your conspiracies. They freak me out." She ends with a giggle.