The Summer at Camazotz

Thirteen

Jordan has lost his mind.

Am I surprised? No, not really. But I guess I expected more from him, expected him to not go completely nuts so soon after leaving actual civilization.

I told him he's crazy.

He laughed and just said, "Not yet."

Which leads me to believe that Jordan Miles has one hundred percent, without a doubt, lost his mind.

His "genius" and supposedly carefully thought out plan happens to include the two of us sneaking out of our cabins well after curfew and then proceeding to break into one of the camp buildings. Jordan said it's not technically breaking in if we have the key. I told him there's no way we'd pull it off even with a key.

Turns out, Jordan milked the whole "we're dating" thing with Astrid and she's agreed to give him her spare key to the mess hall—making me also wonder what exactly Astrid thinks we plan on doing. Only the directors and the other staff are given these keys, however, they tend to give a spare out to one of the four counsellors each year as a "just in case" thing. And because this is Astrid's second time at Camazotz, she's the one who received said keys.

I'm both thankful that she's helping us out and annoyed that she actually believed our lie—Jordan's lie.

The thought should bother me. It should make me cringe or want to shake my head or shout no, but it doesn't. It makes my skin tingle and my face to heat up and as much as I try to will it to stop, it won't.

I don't have time to analyze these feelings or to dwell on what they might mean. My mind is already busy at work sorting out all the possible ways this could turn out. Some are okay and others end with us on a bus back to Abbotsford towards parents who will definitely not be happy.

I spend the rest of the day thinking and worrying and dwelling and definitely not blushing.

Astrid shows no sign whatsoever of any funny business going on and I'm certain that if we get busted, it'll be my fault. Jordan's a smooth talker and Astrid is much more trusted than either of us, leaving me to face the brunt of it all on my own.

At dinner I direct all of my focus to eating simply to avoid acting suspicious or spilling something that should not be spilled. It doesn't seem to be working, though, as all of my friends continuously spare me concerned glances while they converse with each other. I throw back timid smiles and gentle nods every once in a while just to seem involved in whatever they're talking about.

Finally, Tammy side-eyes me, her eyes narrowing, gears clicking. She drops her fork and twists her body toward me, giving me an unimpressed look. "What's up with you?"

I swallow and meet her gaze. "What's up with me?"

She rolls her eyes and nods. "Yeah, Polly, what's up with you?"

I blink back at her, the words lost in my throat. My thoughts are jumbled and I feel like the world's biggest idiot right now.

I think I mean to say, "Uh," but it comes out as more of a groan, like someone just punched me in the stomach. Jordan kicks me swiftly under the table, to which I hold back a response and send a glare his way.

Astrid is trying to hold back a smile at the whole exchange, making the nerves in my stomach only multiply.

I reach for my glass, grab it with shaking hands, and bring it to my lips. The water is cold and refreshing, but does nothing to calm the heat on my face. All eyes are on me and I make a mental reminder to apologize to Jordan later for being so obvious. Tammy opens her mouth to say something, but Jordan quickly cuts her off.