Vanilla

Books

My last year at that hell of a summer camp was after eighth grade, since they didn't have a program for high schoolers. I packed for it with dread. But at least I was able to keep reminding myself that it would soon be over. For good.

That year, though...things turned out to be different.

Since the camp was relatively exclusive, we didn't receive new campers very often. However, this time we were going to. I still don't know how Krista found out about it, but she did somehow, and she would not shut up about it the entire way there.

"A new girl!" She screeched. "I wonder what she will be like?!"

I didn't give the idea much thought. Chances were extremely high that she'd be a preppy, sporty extrovert like all the rest of them.

When we arrived, I ran to my customary bed and avoided the stares of the other girls. They had slowly but surely ceased calling me the "short fat kid" over the years, since I had leaned up quite a bit and was nearly on par with their twig-thin bodies. But of course, they had replaced that name with a new one. "Queer."

I didn't even know what that word meant at the time. When I looked it up on dictionary.com, the synonyms I encountered were "strange" and "odd." So I figured that was all it could mean.

After I had thrown my bag under the bed to claim it as my own, I stuffed my headphones in my ears and turned my music up so that it was blasting every thought out of my brain.

Then I went to the library.

I checked out four books, ignored the sad glances the librarian gave me, and immediately afterward climbed up the side of the mess hall building and sat at the edge of the roof. My feet dangled off of it, and I felt on top of the world rather than  squashed into it by the authority of others.

When I had gotten about halfway through my first book, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped, and my book tumbled off of the roof. I would've tumbled with it, too, had a hand not caught mine at the last second.

After regaining my hold on the edge of the roof, I whipped my head around to see who had interrupted me so rudely. 

She was a short, pale girl, who looked to be a year or so younger than me. Curly blonde hair fell almost to her waist, and her blue eyes were the same shade as the summer sky behind her.

"Who are you?" I demanded. It was strangely more difficult to keep up my tough persona with her than the other girls because of the way her calm gaze threatened to soften me.

"My name is Tessa." The girl smiled. "And you?"

"Jackie," I mumbled.

"Jackie," she repeated slowly, the smile still glued to her face. 

Silence hung in the air. Typically I would not be the one to break it, but she seemed to be waiting for me to say something. 

"So...what do you want?"

Tessa answered my question with one of her own. "Are you always so uninviting of attention?"

I snorted. "Yeah, you sorta develop that kind of thing automatically when everyone hates you."

I prepared myself for the onslaught of pity. Her smile would fade, her eyes grow upset, and she would whisper an 'I'm sorry you feel that way' before leaving me alone again.

But none of that happened.

Instead, Tessa retained her grin and said sweetly, "Well I don't."

And that's how I met my very first friend.