Camp Cauldron

By

Juli Alexander

My phone vibrated and I hit Ignore for the fifth time. I wasn't ready to talk to Sophie after the stunt she'd pulled. Turning back to the television, I tried to convince myself I was watching the show. If I'd known she'd be so stupid, I would have taken out that dusty cauldron and unused potion book and learned how to brew a common sense potion.

Mom had been on the land line for twenty minutes. Finally, I heard her hang up, and she stepped into the family room to check on me.

“Emma, I talked to Sarah.”

“Mm,” I said.

Mom had already kicked off her heels and was walking around in her top, skirt, and pantyhose. "She told me you're ignoring Sophie's calls."

“Yep.” I picked up the remote and muted the television.

Mom sat down at the other end of the overstuffed couch and sighed as she sank into the cushions. “I hate it when you girls fight. It takes so much of my energy.”

My mother and Sophie's mother were good friends, which was great most of the time, but not so great when we fought. “She told you why, didn't she?” I maybe whined as I said it.

Mom's brown hair, frizzy from her long day at work, bobbed as she nodded. “I'm sorry, honey. I know you were looking forward to that Spring Break trip.”

“What kind of idiot gets caught sneaking out of the house three weeks before Spring Break!”

My mother narrowed her eyes. “I'm going to ignore your emphasis on 'getting caught' for now.”

Sophie and I were finally old enough to have a modicum of freedom when her mother took us to the beach. I had been looking forward to this for months! My first Spring Break trip in high school. "Mom, this stinks! I'm already packed!”

With a frown, Mom said, “I noticed, and I'm pretty sure you would have needed some of that underwear before your trip."

“Mother!”

“I am sorry, Emma. I wish we could take you somewhere, but your father and I both have to work.”

“I need a new best friend.” Sophie and I had grown up together. Our families were magic, and there weren't a whole lot of witches in Athens, Georgia. At least, not real witches. A whole lot of crystals and flowing skirts though.

“She let you down,” my mother said.

I had the perfect bathing suit ready to go. Five shopping trips and two Internet orders wasted. Instead of flirting with hot guys on the beach, I'd be stuck here in town. Alone. Everybody went to the beach for Spring Break.

The grinding of the garage door opener alerted us to my father's arrival.

“Don't tell Dad!” I pleaded.

My mother paused, and I knew I had her. “We have to tell him that the trip is off, but maybe we could postpone telling him some of the details.”

Mom and I were well aware of my dad's opinion of Sophie. He didn't much like her. He thought Sarah was too easy on her, and every time he saw Sophie, he said, “That girl is headed for trouble.”

Dad walked into the room, taking off his suit jacket and laying in across the armchair. “Honey, I'm home.”

Dad said that every day. He thought it was funny. I guess.

He leaned down and kissed my mother. Then me.

“How was your day, Em?” he asked.

I glanced at my mother.

“Not so great,” I said.

“Sarah canceled the beach trip,” Mom added. “Emma's a little disappointed.”

“What?” He looked from Mom to me and back. “Isn't it a little late for that?”

“You would think,” I grumbled.

“She must have a reason?” Dad sat down in the recliner and waited to hear the rest.

“Um,” I said.

“Actually,” my mother interjected, “Sophie is going to be a counselor at Smack Camp.”

Smack Camp? “She is?” I hadn't listened long enough to find out what her punishment was going to be.

“Sarah just told me.”

My father grimaced. “Why would Sophie Singleton want to be a counselor at the Spring Supplemental Magic Management Camp? She isn't exactly the do-gooder type. Or the sleep in bunk-bed type now that I think about it.”

“Sophie is, um—.”

“—more mature than you realize,” my mother said, saving me.

“Well, good for Sophie,” my father said. “I guess I've been underestimating her.”

We should have taken that opportunity to come clean with him, but neither of us did. Then it was too late.

My dad turned to me and said, “Can you get in on this, Emma? Was there a deadline to apply? You have the week free now, and I'm sure they could use the help.”

Me? I gasped. I hadn't seen this coming at all. I turned to my mother with desperation.

Wide-eyed, my mother stared at my father.

My dad laughed. “Why so shocked, Sheila? I'm surprised you didn't suggest it yourself.”

“I can't go to Smack Camp, Dad!”

“I'm not sure Emma is a good fit,” my mother stammered.

We were going to have to tell him the truth. It would feed his dislike for Sophie, but I would be saved.

“Mom!” I urged.

Mom stood. “I'll check into it, hon, but I'm sure it's too late. Let me make some calls.” She turned to me and gave me a pointed look over the top of her glasses. “I'm sure they've filled all the counselor spots by now.”

Dad got up and followed her to the kitchen. “Volunteering should buy her some goodwill from the Council. I don't know why we didn't think of this sooner. We've been trying to find a way to get her more interested in her witch heritage.”

My dad had been freaking out, or as he put it, “voicing concern” about my reluctance to practice magic. He was never going to let this idea go. I grabbed my phone and texted Sophie. She had ruined my life just to spend a couple hours with her stupid boyfriend. Smack Camp was remedial camp for the kids who wouldn't follow the magic rules. These kids were walking time bombs, and now I was headed for the blast zone.

Three weeks later, my legs glowed neon white as I stood with the other counselors in my khaki shorts and navy Camp Cauldron hoodie. Sophie hadn't bothered to tell me she had used some self-tanning cream on hers. I glanced down at her golden legs, smiling when I noticed that she'd missed a spot behind her knees. Still, my legs were a one on a scale of one to ten right now. Hers were a solid nine. Well, maybe an eight. None of us were spared from goose bumps on the cool late March morning.

The two guys for cabin four were Greg and Greg. Seriously. The other two girl counselors were Jenny and Jenna. I was already thinking of them as “The two J's.”

“My fingers are twitching,” Sophie whispered.

The camp director, Mrs. Laverdiere was fiftyish with curly, red hair, a plastic sun visor, and heavily lipsticked lips, which had been curved into a big, bright smile since we'd arrived. She had confiscated all of our cell phones upon arrival. We were each allowed an hour in the evening with our phones to touch base with family and friends. Otherwise, the campers required our full attention.

“We'll survive,” I said. It seemed like I had lost a limb, and I'd already reached into my pocket three times forgetting I no longer had the phone. On the other hand, I didn't mind having some time with Sophie. She'd hardly paid me any attention since she started dating Cole three months ago. Even when we had girl time, she was constantly texting him.

Mrs. Laverdiere ended the call on her own cell phone and came forward to address the eight of us. “I apologize,” she said, tucking her phone into the pocket of her navy jacket. “I had to discuss some late developments with a parent.”

“Why does she get to wear pants?” Sophie whispered.

The camp director turned our way, and I elbowed Sophie.

Ignoring Sophie's resulting squeak, Mrs. Laverdiere said, “I'll be honest with you. We are short-handed. I don't know what we would have done if Sophie and Emma hadn't volunteered just in time.” She smiled in our direction. “Luckily, we have a light week. Most school systems in Tennessee and Georgia opted for other spring break weeks. If we work hard, stay alert, and pull together, we'll provide the campers with a terrific week of Spring Supplemental Magic Management Camp. Oh, and that reminds me, no one here is to use the derogatory term ‘Smack Camp.’”

One of the guys from cabin two, the tall, ridiculously good looking one, laughed. The shorter guy next to him rolled his eyes. They definitely weren't best friends, like the two J's, but the director had paired them in the same cabin. The taller one was Scott. Mrs. Laverdiere and the other, Ian, shared a look.

Kids had been calling this Smack Camp since it started a few years ago. Besides the acronym, S.S.M.M.C., the idea was that the kids who ended up here were going to get in trouble no matter how many times they got smacked upside the head. The kids were the ones who kept brewing self-serving potions or using self-serving charms. All magic children went to Magic Orientation Camp after second grade. The ones who didn't learn to control themselves repeated the next year. I vaguely remembered a couple of kids who repeated their summer when me and Sophie went. Milo and Zoe were their names. They'd gotten kicked out the year before, even though the kids they'd made bald were all bullies.

The council had started with interim training a few years ago. Fall break weekends. Holiday camps. And the Spring Smack camp. The problem with self-serving magic was the punishment. Something bad would happen to our appearance. When your typical witch went bad, he or she ended up with green skin, rotting teeth, a crooked nose, giant wart, you know. The ugly witch stereotype. Kids' punishments were usually more bizarre and unpredictable. I wasn't a very good witch because I was terrified to brew a potion. I didn't even study the stuff they wanted me to. I just avoided it. I didn't want Dumbo ears or giant clown feet.

My mother usually defended my reluctance with magic, but I think it's because she loved her job at the University and was afraid she'd have to quit to homeschool me.

"Let's start with a tour of the grounds. It's been a few years since you guys went to Orientation Camp." We walked down the meandering path through the pines to the campfire site by the lake. The rock sculpture of a giant cauldron was smaller than I remembered.

We'd completed twelve hours of online training in the last two weeks, but apparently Mrs. Laverdiere had more to teach us. After the tour, we trained in CPR and environmental disaster aversion in the new building with the great room. We went over the camp policy—to avoid using magic unless a child's life was in danger. After all, we were training them to selectively use their magic. Then she briefed us on each of the campers with a high tech PowerPoint presentation.

After hearing about five of the “very troubled youngsters” as Mrs. L. called them, I realized we were in trouble.

Sophie covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God,” Sophie said, peaking at me through her fingers. “We're doomed.”

Later, as we stood in the parking lot waiting for the kids to arrive, Sophie continued her tirade. “We're going to end up in the hospital,” Sophie whined as the school bus pulled up with our campers.

“No kidding. And it's all your fault,” I snapped. “When are you going to apologize for losing our beach trip and getting us stuck in this nightmare?”

Sophie crossed her arms. “I'm not taking the blame for what happens here. I couldn't have known we'd end up here. Besides, if you're mad about the hot guys, there are hot guys here.”

She wasn't wrong. Scott and one of the Gregs were pretty cute. And Ian wasn't bad either. The second Greg was rather unfortunate looking. “Not the point,” I ground out. Not anymore.

The first kids climbed off the bus. The boy with the elephant trunk growing from his nose glared at the other kids as he walked.

Ian greeted him with a high five. “You're in my cabin, Owen. Lose the tough act. We have a zero tolerance policy for bullying.”

The kid stiffened.

“You've got to take it easy on the other guys,” Ian finished.

Owen relaxed, and if I could have seen his mouth under the trunk, I thought he might have been smiling.

“That one's ours,” Sophie said, pointing to a cute, redheaded girl in a navy t-shirt. “Thank God. She looks normal.”

We'd gotten lucky. Britney's dragon tail had shrunk down to about six inches. In the pictures we'd seen, the tail had been six feet long. Now, she was able to tuck it inside her shorts. Neither of us said it, but Sophie had to be thinking what I was. From behind, she looked like she had a big load of poop in her pants. Poor kid.

Our only other camper with an issue, Kelsey, had two quarter-sized knots on her forehead. A month ago, they'd been massive elk horns. At one point, the child hadn't been able to walk around without help due to their weight.

Stephanie, Kelsey, and Leslie hadn't gotten into any recent trouble. Kelsey had a mischievous past though, and we were supposed to keep a close eye on her. Stephanie had a permanent scowl, and Leslie hadn't stopped moving since she arrived.

Our first activity after the welcome lunch and name game was crafts. Britney didn't stay in her seat as we worked on making lanyards with the boys from Ian and Scott's cabin. I wasn't sure if it was hyperactivity or if sitting on the tail just wasn't comfortable.

I stood up and tried to communicate with Sophie. “My butt is killing me in this hard chair,” I said. Usually, I wouldn't be caught dead saying that in front of two teenage guys.

Sophie wrinkled her nose but didn't look up from the mess of plastic lanyard. “Thanks for sharing.”

“I'm sure I'm not the only one,” I said, biting off each word in hopes that my friend might catch on.

“It's probably because you don't have a real behind. You're just flat back there.” Sophie handed Kelsey the lanyard she'd untangled.

I huffed, afraid I'd have to give up my attempt to help Britney. Sophie knew I was sensitive about my flat rear.

“Emma's right,” Ian said from the next table. “These chairs must be from some torture chamber somewhere.”

Shooting him a grateful look, I said, “I'll go ask Mrs. Laverdiere if there's something we can do.”

“There are some pillows in the closet by the kitchen,” Ian said. “Why don't we grab one for all the chairs?”

He led the way to the closet.

“Thanks,” I said. “Sophie wasn't getting my subliminal messages.”

He opened the door and handed me a stack of bed pillows. “No problem. I know this will help Britney. I wish Owen's problems were that easy.”

“Poor kid.” I couldn't imagine coping with that elephant's trunk.

After taking a stack for himself, he pushed the door shut with his foot. “I'm worried about the horseback riding tomorrow. The horses may not react well to his extra appendage.”

Walking back toward the craft room, I said, “I wouldn't have thought of that. I keep wondering if he snores.”

Ian stopped and groaned. “I should have realized. He picked the bed farthest from the others, and I already confiscated cans of Mello Yello from his duffle bag. He's afraid to sleep.”

“How loud could it get?” Elephants trumpeted with their trunks.

Shaking his head, Ian said, “No idea.”

“Do we keep any earplugs here?”

“Mrs. Laverdiere has just about everything. The problem is that I don't want to single out our cabin that way.”

“Tell them that you snore.”

His grin lit up his face. “You're a genius. I can even fake some snoring to sell the story.”

We stood there, smiling at each other, and I suddenly realized how alone we were. Ian had the most beautiful brown eyes, and I wasn't sure why I'd thought he was just average looking that morning. “Let's get these pillows on the chairs,” I said, walking as fast as I could toward the others.

“Oh thank goodness,” Sophie said, rubbing her backside as I handed her half the pillows, to signal that she had finally caught on.

“These are the same ones we use to sleep,” Stephanie complained.

“I'm not putting my head where somebody's butt has been,” Leslie said.

“No worries,” Ian assured them. “The ones in the cabins are brand new.”

“Good,” Stephanie said, sticking hers on her seat and sitting back down. “I don't want butt cooties.”

The girls giggled until Sophie and I had to laugh too. A glance at Ian confirmed that he was smiling.

Later that night, we had the kids put their coats on and we walked down to the lake. Once the kids were settled on the log benches around the campfire, Sophie and I sat down on the log behind them. My eyes were tearing up a little at the intense smoke. Scott came over and sat down next to Sophie.

“Hey,” he said.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said, not even sparing him a glance.

Scott leaned forward, looking around her to me. “Hey,” he said.

I ignored him while Sophie sniggered. She knew he wasn't my type. Hitting on every girl was never my type.

His arrogance undented, Scott stood up and headed to the other two female counselors, The Two J's.

I turned back to check on our campers and saw Ian.

“Do you mind?” Ian asked motioning to the empty spot beside me.

“Of course not,” I said. “Sit.”

“Thanks,” he said and settled onto the log. “I'm afraid to take my eyes off of Owen. The other kids have done well so far. I just don't want him picked on.”

“How long has he been homeschooled?”

“He had issues with social skills even before his magic came in.”

“These kids are making me sad,” I admitted.

“What's sad is that you never use your magic,” Sophie said.

“Better safe than sorry,” I said. “Not that you are supposed to tell anyone.”

“You never use your magic? You know what Chaucer would say,” Ian added.

“No,” Sophie said.

“Not a clue,” I admitted.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Oh.” I didn't know that was Chaucer. I glanced at him. “Point taken. After watching all the trouble that Sophie got into—”

“Hey! This isn't about me.”

"—I didn't want to go through all that.” She'd been homeschooled twice, spent a week with a monkey tail that grabbed onto everything she passed, and grown giant eagle wings for arms, which made opening her, Christmas presents impossible two years ago.

“You should reconsider,” he said. “You're older now. You can handle it.”

“The magic or the punishment?”

He shrugged. “Up to you, I guess.”

I kept telling myself that I didn't need magic, and right now, I didn't. Sophie and Ian did have a point though. If I ever needed it in the future, I would be in trouble. I should be learning the basics.

Mrs. Laverdiere signaled for everyone to be quiet. “We're going to sing campfire songs tonight,” she told us, “and tomorrow night will be spooky stories. Now, let's start with ‘Don't be Selfish.’”

The kids started singing the song, written to the tune of “Make new friends but keep the old.”

“Now let's do rounds.” Mrs. Laverdiere pointed to the fire. “If you're on this side, start first. This side come in with ‘Don't’ when the first group is on ‘You'll.’”

Don't be selfish

or break the rules

You'll be punished

and feel like a fool.

After several tries, the group sounded pretty good.

“What should we sing next?” the director asked.

“Stop Stop Stop and think!” A couple of kids yelled.

“Great idea.”

The group began singing to the tune of Row, Row, Row your boat.

Stop, Stop, Stop and Think

Before you make a scene.

Your magic has consequences.

And they can get mean.

“I still hear these in my sleep sometimes,” I whispered.

Ian laughed. “No wonder you're afraid to try your magic.”

“Sometimes I sing them to you when you fall asleep before me,” Sophie said.

“Seriously?” How evil!

“No, but I will from now on.” She laughed as I made a strangling motion with my hands.

“Now we all know your weaknesses,” Ian said. “We can control you to our own ends.”

“Right,” I said. “I've always been in demand with the villainous set.”

Mrs. Laverdiere motioned for us to pass out the snacks—popcorn balls and juice boxes.

The girls sang all the way back to our cabin, and I was sure they'd fall asleep quickly.

I was wrong.

On Monday morning, our cabin arrived at breakfast twenty minutes late. Sophie and I hadn't had time to wash our hair. Mine smelled like smoke from the campfire, and hers looked a little greasy. I had no doubt mine did too.

“Good morning,” Ian said, sliding up behind me in the line.

“Not so sure about that,” I answered.

“Rough night?”

“The girls didn't sleep. Did you know girls giggle?” I took a tray and grabbed some silverware and napkins. “Like for hours at a time?”

Ian's lips curved into a grin. “I probably shouldn't point this out, but, Emma, you are a girl.”

“Not like them. I never—" Actually, I couldn't count the number of times my mother and Sophie's mother had yelled for us to stop giggling and go to sleep. “It was a nightmare,” I said.

“I guess none of us got any sleep.”

“Oh no.” Owen. “Did Owen snore?” I'd been whining about giggling for crying out loud.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“The ear plugs?”

“Couldn't begin to help.”

“How bad was it?”

“You wouldn't believe it. We were up until three.”

“Did he stop at three?” I grabbed some toast and scooped a serving of eggs on to two plates.

“No. At three, I finally figured out which charm would work. I didn't want to stop the snoring because I might interfere with his breathing, and I didn't want to alter everyone's hearing in case of an emergency. I finally used a charm to put up an invisible sound-muffling wall three feet from his bed in every direction.” Ian used tongs to grab a biscuit and a sausage patty.

“Wow.” I wouldn't have been able to do anything. I couldn't have helped Owen. “Are the kids being mean to him?”

“No. They thought it was hilarious until about one. Then they pretty much begged for death.” He smiled. “I considered granting some of their wishes.”

“You would never!” I reached for two orange juices and added them to the tray. “You're really good at this. How many times have you been a counselor here?”

“This is my first. I had to wait until I turned fourteen.”

“Ian!” One of the boys called.

“Come here!” Another said.

“Duty calls,” he said, and he carried his tray over to his campers.

I walked to our table and handed Sophie her food.

“I need Starbucks,” she hissed. “Not just a latte, the whole Starbucks.”

“Will you share?”

“I can't make any promises,” she said.

I glanced down the table at five tired, miserable girls. “We're doing a double hike today,” I told them. “And if this happens again, we'll do three hikes.”

“What?” Britney squeaked.

“Seriously?” Stephanie moaned.

Sophie grinned at me over her egg sandwich. “You can have half the Starbucks. Definitely.”

On Tuesday, as I passed out the marshmallows and chocolate bars for s'mores, I glanced over at the counselors for the other girls' cabin, the two J's. I didn't envy them. They'd woken to a camper with a giant frog's head. I had to make a serious effort not to stare. The head attached directly to her shoulders, and she had no neck at all. Somehow, her counselors had cut the neck out of her yellow Camp Cauldron t-shirt to make it fit.

Instead of being upset, the girl, Maggie, seemed to enjoy being different. I turned to check on her. Scott had both of her counselors wrapped around his finger, and neither was watching their campers. As I watched, Maggie used her giant frog's tongue to swipe another camper's marshmallow.

My line never ended as the kids went through their marshmallows and chocolate quickly. I knew better than to leave the chocolate unattended. Actually, for some reason, chocolate gives witches diarrhea, so this was fake chocolate. The camp had a "no candy" policy other than the official camp desserts. Sophie was busy helping our campers manage roasting their marshmallows and build their s'mores. I tried to catch her eye, but she didn't notice. The tongue flashed again and grabbed a full s'more this time.

“Scott,” I yelled. “Quit distracting them. They need to deal with F—” What was frog girl's name? Right. “Maggie!”

Three pairs of eyes turned to shoot daggers at me.

I made a face in return and turned to find Mrs. Laverdiere standing beside me.

“Aaa!” I said.

“Emma”" she said, putting a hand on my arm. “You are doing a terrific job. I just wanted to thank you for working so hard.”

“You do. Really?”

“Really,” she said. Then she winked at me before moving on to the campfire.

Wow. She thought I was doing a good job. I'd never had a job before, and I stood a little straighter after hearing her compliment.

“Time for spooky stories,” Mrs. Laverdiere called from the head of the campfire circle. “You guys are in for a treat tonight. Ian is going to get us started with a spooky tale.”

Across the group, Ian turned on a flashlight and held it under his chin. “Have you heard the story about ‘Arthur and The Asylum for the Incurable?’”

I wandered over to the fire and watched as he told his tale with his ghost story voice. The kids were enthralled, and he performed like a master storyteller.

The kids jumped as Ian revealed the sights inside the asylum.

“He's pretty great, isn't he?” Sophie whispered.

I was vaguely aware that she had moved to sit beside me, but I hadn't taken my eyes off of Ian. “Yeah,” I admitted.

“Kind of cute too.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You guys would make a great couple.”

“Mm.”

She clapped her hands together. “Yay! I'm so excited to have a project.”

“No!” I hissed. “You stay out of it.”

“How could I do that? I care about your happiness.” She placed her hand on her chest to emphasize her sincerity.

“Don't embarrass me.”

“Fine. You promise to hook up by the end of the week, and I'll leave you alone.”

“Sophie!”

She tilted her head and waited, blinking the eyelashes that I hadn't seen without mascara in at least two years until this week.

“Fine,” I said. Then I ignored her and watched Ian and wondered exactly what it would be like to kiss him.

On Wednesday morning, my campers were marching past Ian's and Scott's cabin when Mrs. Laverdiere zoomed up in a white panel van.

“Get the girls to breakfast, Sophie,” she said as she rushed up the cabin steps. “Emma, you stay with us.”

Sophie shrugged, downplaying her inevitable curiosity. “We'll save you something good,” she said and motioned for the girls to keep moving.

 Between the van and the sense of urgency, I had enough clues to brace myself for something unsightly.

I climbed the steps and peered into the cabin. I couldn't see much. Ian and the director were stooped over something on the floor. I stepped closer and saw that one of the boys now had a giraffe's neck. Normally, the kid would have stood at just under five feet tall. The neck was at least six feet. He stretched across the entire cabin floor.

“Stay calm, Max,” Ian was saying. “Mrs. L is going to take you to the hospital. You'll be playing video games in no time.”

I looked up at the ceiling. The child couldn't stand up in here, much less clear the doorframe. “What's the plan,” I asked.

“Ian has an idea,” Mrs. L said.

In a faux whisper, Ian said, “Hey Max. You know that cute counselor from Britney's cabin. The one with brown hair?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

I grinned.

“Her name is Emma. Me and Emma are going to crawl out of here with you.”

“I can't, Ian. I really can't.”

“You can. We'll turn you over and you can get on your hands and knees. Then me and Emma will slip under your neck and get on our hands and knees. And we will all crawl out the door and onto the porch like giant caterpillar.”

I could picture it, but I had my doubts. Until this week, I'd had no idea how hard it was to be one of these slow learners.

Ian and I got down on our hands and knees. We counted to three and then he rolled and we carefully maneuvered his neck. Next we did as Ian had said. I'd never been up close and personal with a giraffe neck before.

“Okay, Emma,” Ian said from behind me. “Start crawling.”

We made it outside.

“Max,” Ian said. “It's going to be really hard to stand up and support your neck. It works for giraffes because they have a bigger base and four feet on the ground. You only have two. You push yourself up with your arms and legs and we'll do the same thing so that your neck can follow along. Once you are standing, grab me with your arms so I can help steady you and carry part of your weight.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Emma, are you ready?”

“Ready,” I said, hoping my voice didn't convey my concern.

“Tell us when, Max, and we'll all count. One, two, and then go on three.”

“Okay. I'm ready.”

“One. Two.”

“Three,” we all said as we strained to climb to our feet.

A split second later, and I was free of the neck. I turned to see Max actually smiling as he hunched over Ian, gripping his chest with white knuckles. Ian grimaced as he struggled to help with the weight.

The two of them stumbled down the steps and crawled into the back of the van in that position. Mrs. L guided Max's head carefully from the side door, and Ian crawled through and out of the van. Once Max was lying comfortably on his side in the van, he gave us a thumbs up.

Ian shut the door, and we waved as Mrs. L drove away.

“There aren't any windows in the van, you know,” I said. “He can't see us wave.”

“Thank God,” Ian said, and he melted onto one of the porch steps. “How much do you think that neck weighed?”

“I don't know. A hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred pounds?” I sat beside him and watched as he rubbed his arms.

“I was keeping up with my magic but I wasn't lifting weights.”

I laughed, and moved behind him to rub his neck and shoulders. All of it was so natural that it took a moment for me to realize that I was touching a guy. Massaging a guy. I didn't stop. I made myself keep kneading his muscles.

“Thanks, Emma,” he said in a rough voice.

I was excited, and terrified, and I had stopped breathing in anticipation of what might happen next.

Then we heard the shouts from Scott as he ran down the path. “You did it!” He jogged right up to us, and I dropped my hands in my lap. “I can't believe you did it.” He high fived Ian and then me. “Get moving, guys,” he urged. “Everybody's waiting to hear about Max.”

Ian stood, and held out a hand to me. He gave me the most adorable look of regret as I stood up too.

Scott clapped Ian on the back and pulled him along. “What a nightmare! I didn't know what was going to happen. I did good though, right? I didn't even scream when I saw him.”

Ian's popularity among the campers was through the roof, and I hadn't spent two minutes with him yesterday or today. The longer I went without seeing him, the more I started to look for him. After our dinner of hot dogs, I told Sophie to go ahead with the other girls while I waited for Britney to return from the restroom. When Ian and Scott gathered their group to walk to the campfire, I found myself following along behind. If Britney hadn't called out to me as I stepped out the door, I would have left her alone. I would have forgotten her!

I covered really well by telling her I was going to wait on the porch. At least I hadn't hurt her feelings. Still, I had almost made a huge mistake, and all because of a guy. I had to get my head straight. As Britney and I skipped down to the lake… What? I let her talk me into it. Anyway, I promised myself that I would stop obsessing. I wasn't going to get any time alone with Ian, and I was going to focus on my job.

At the campfire, I managed to avoid looking at Ian. Okay, I looked once. Or twice. Both Owen and Maggie stayed by his side at all times.

Sophie and I had decided to have card night at our cabin before bed. I let Sophie go ahead on her one-hour cell phone break while I supervised a Go Fish tournament.

When Sophie returned, she decided to start a second tournament. I didn't want to leave, but I'd promised my parents I would check in tonight.

I walked up to the great room. I didn't see any of the other counselors on my way. When I pulled open the front door to the building, I expected to find one or two other teens there. Instead, the room was empty.

After grabbing my phone from the desk drawer, I snagged the remote to the giant television. Then I pounced on the couch. I set my cell phone alarm for fifty-six minutes later and dialed my parents. After promising I was healthy, well-fed, and behaving, I said good night to each of them.

With fifty-three minutes left to enjoy the luxury of the empty great room, I kicked off my Keds and stretched my legs out on the sofa. I needed a blanket and a giant soda, and I'd be in heaven.

I clicked the remote to bring up the channel guide. Sophie had probably spent her whole hour texting or talking, but I couldn't imagine anything better than an hour of peace.

Until the front door opened and Ian walked in.

Suddenly, I knew the best way to spend my hour. I tried to play it cool. He probably had calls to make, and he wouldn't have any time for me. I selected the first decent show I saw and turned it on.

“Well, don't you look comfortable,” he said with a big smile.

I smiled back, fighting the urge to sit up. “If only I had a blanket,” I managed to say.

He walked past and I pretended to watch the show. He'd get his phone and make his calls, and I'd see him for a few more seconds before I had to leave.

I was wrong.

“Your wish is my command,” he said, handing me a patchwork quilt.

“Where did you-?”

“I know all the secrets,” he said.

“Can you find a Coke?”

“I wish,” he said as he came around to the front of the sofa and sat down at the other end.

My feet were practically touching him. Thank God I'd worn socks today.

He took the quilt and spread it over both of us. “You don't mind sharing, do you?”

“Of course not! Thanks.” After that, I couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, he started messing with his cell phone.

I'd been waiting for days to talk to him. What was wrong with me?

Not looking away from his phone, Ian said, “Thanks for helping with Max.”

I pounced on the opportunity for a conversation. “How is he?”

My heart pitter-pattered as Ian tucked his phone into his pocket. He was choosing me over his phone!

“Not great. He'll be in the Council's Atlanta Hospital for at least a month.”

“Poor kid. I never even asked what he did wrong.”

“I don't think you want to know.”

“Why not?”

“He used a charm to help him see through walls. I think he was trying to snoop on the girls in the shower.”

“Really. The girls?”

“Okay. The counselors.”

“Yikes.”

“I guess some kids don't need to hit puberty before they turn lecherous.”

I shuddered at the thought of being spied on. “When did he do this charm?”

“I don't think you want to know.”

When he glanced down, his wavy brown hair fell into his eyes. “Super.” I almost wished I hadn't helped the kid.

“If it's any consolation, it will give him something to think about for the next couple of months.” He barely finished saying it before he started laughing.

“Eww. Not helping.” Had the twerp really watched me in the shower? Better Sophie than me.

“His neck is about six feet long. Even if he did misbehave, I feel sorry for him. I'm not sure how he's going to eat. The food has a long way to go.”

“He'll probably get to live on milkshakes.”

“Probably.”

My stomach reminded me that I'd only eaten one hot dog at dinner.

Ian sighed. “I could go for a milkshake.”

“I wish.”

“Hang on.” He moved the quilt and stood up.

Sitting up, I crossed my legs to make more room on the sofa. “Are we breaking in to the kitchen?”

He laughed. “No.”

I watched him walk over to the bookcase by the desk. He moved a few books and pulled out two vanilla pudding cups.

“No way!”

He reached again and came up with two spoons.

“You are my hero!” I said.

“I stashed them in here the other day.” He handed me a spoon and a pudding and sat back down.

I peeled the foil off the top. “This is so much better than the granola bar hidden under my mattress.”

I started to dip my spoon in, but Ian held up his pudding cup as if to make a toast.

“To us,” he said, and then he bumped his cup against mine. “We make a good team.”

We were a team? I so wanted us to be a team.

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sat there, holding my pudding and smiling at him.

Did he actually like me? Boys had liked me before, but never the ones that I liked. Their declarations of love always resulted in awkward and messy attempts to avoid hurting their feelings.

Ian was not the kind of guy I'd push away. I'd never seen eyes like his, like flecks of honey in warm chocolate sauce. I wanted to move closer, to really see them, but I couldn't without making it obvious that I had a thing for him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the front door open. I wanted to scream, “Go away!”

The cuter Greg came in. He gave us an inquisitive look.

“Hey, Greg,” I said and scooped some pudding into my mouth.

“Hey, man,” Ian said.

“Do I really get to talk to two people my own age? The non-stop babysitting is overwhelming.”

“I hear you,” Ian agreed.

Walking over to us, Greg said, “Are you kidding me? Where did you get pudding?”

With a sigh, Ian stood up. “I guess we'll have to buy your silence.” Then he went to give Greg one his puddings.

I took another bite and pretended Greg wasn't interrupting. Before long, my alarm beeped. “Gotta go,” I said, hoping Ian would decide to walk with me.

“G'night, Emma,” Ian said.

“See you at breakfast,” Greg said.

Friday, our cabin was in the middle of our morning chaos when a frantic child from the other boy's cabin knocked on the door. “Mrs. L says for Emma to come to cabin four right away.”

He ran off before I could ask any questions.

I slipped into my sneakers, yelled to Sophie, and ran after him.

When I got to cabin four, I saw a boy lying on the bed, struggling to breathe. He was turning a little blue, but that clearly wasn't his punishment. His punishment was the giant pair of kangaroo feet that poked out from under the quilt. Mrs. L and the two Gregs were busy examining every inch of him.

“What's wrong?” I asked when I found Ian.

“We don't know.”

The boy's face was all rashy, and I looked at his hands. They were too.

Ian said, “All we know is that he made candy out of some leaves.”

“Emma, see what the children know. Ian, check the bathroom for any traces of the potion he used.”

I rushed outside to see what the boys had seen. Trying not to scare them, I said, “Do you know what he ate?”

“Candy.”

“What kind?”

They shrugged.

“Did he give some to anybody else?”

“No,” a kid with glasses said.

“He tried to give me a piece,” one boy answered. “I didn't eat it.”

I nodded. “Because it is against the rules?”

He shook his head. “No, because it looked like poison ivy.”

The rash on his hands and face! “You saw the leaves?”

“No, but the candy had three leaves, and I was afraid he used poison ivy.”

I turned and ran back into the cabin. “Poison ivy! He made the candy from poison ivy.”

“Of course,” the director said, relief evident in her voice. “Ian, get my medical kit.”

Ian mumbled a charm and the kit appeared in his hand.

Mrs. L pulled out a syringe and stuck the kid in the arm. “Scott, carry him to the van. The rest of you get the other campers under control.”

The campers were quiet and the mood had turned gloomy as we all watched the van pull away.

“I guess we need to feed them,” Ian said.

When we got to the kitchen, we discovered that Mrs. L had been interrupted in the middle of cooking breakfast. Ian grabbed a spatula and tossed the charcoal-like remains of pancakes from the grill into the sink. He turned off the grill.

“What do we do?” I asked Ian as I ran water over the charred mess.

“I know where the emergency cereal is,” he said. “We're covered.”

I went to the cabinet and pulled out the Styrofoam bowls. “Are there any fruit loops in there?”

Ian set three giant boxes of cereal on the cabinet. None of them were fruit loops. Then with a gleam in his eye, he pulled out another box and said, “We're saving these for ourselves.”

Shouts from the other room sent terror through my heart.

“Ian, help!” Sophie yelled.

“Something's wrong,” I said, and the two of us ran to help.

Scott and one of the Gregs were standing with Owen. Only it wasn't Owen. It was another camper with an elephant trunk.

“Owen!” Ian yelled. “Where are you?”

Sophie motioned from across the room. We ran over to see the real Owen lying on the floor. My heart sank when I saw that he was lashing about desperately.

“What happened?” Ian asked Sophie as he crouched beside the boy.

“He must have used a charm on Tyler,” she said.

Owen whimpered, and Ian started feeling Owen's torso, then his arms and legs. Finding nothing, he gently touched Owen's trunk. “Talk to me Owen.”

Owen made muffled sounds, and finally Ian lifted the trunk to reveal his mouth.

The boy had fish lips. A tiny little mouth and fish lips where his mouth had been. The opening was smaller than a dime. Smaller than an app icon on my iPhone.

“Oh crap!” Sophie said.

“He was breathing through his mouth,” Ian said, frantic now. “He can't breathe through the trunk, and this tiny hole is practically useless.”

Owen thrashed on the floor.

“Get everybody out of here,” Ian said. “Take them to the great room, Sophie. Emma, when I'm finished, you need to calm him down. Scott, take Tyler down the lake, he likes to be outside.”

Oh my God! We were going to have to give Owen a tracheotomy with a ballpoint pen like they had on that TV show.

As the kids rushed to follow Sophie, Ian started chanting.

Owen calmed, and I could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

“How did you-?” I looked at Ian and saw that he no longer had a mouth. Instead, he had a tiny fish mouth with itty-bitty fish lips.

 I gasped, and Ian's face turned a deep red. I could see the misery in his eyes.

Owen started crying, and I turned back to him.

“It's going to be fine, Owen. You can breathe now. You don't have to worry anymore.” I glanced around for Ian but he was gone.

The boy sat up and threw his arms around me, holding me tight.

“You're okay now,” I said, rubbing his back as his tears soaked my shoulder. “You're okay.” How had Ian done that? He'd assumed Owen's punishment somehow. I didn't even know it was possible. "Poor baby," I said to the weeping boy. Poor Ian. How long was he going to be stuck with that fish mouth? How would he eat? How would he talk?

All day long, I tried to find Ian. He wasn't anywhere to be found.

When I finally got my cell phone time that night, I stopped by the boy's cabin, but he wasn't there either.

I couldn't think of anything but Ian. I'd comforted Owen until he'd calmed down. Then he'd spent the day with the director. Who had taken care of Ian?

He was a hero. I don't know if I would have done that even if I had known how.

Tomorrow morning, the campers would climb back onto the school bus and go home. Mom was coming to pick up me and Sophie soon after.

I had to find a way to see Ian.

My plan to stay up and sneak out after the campers and Sophie fell asleep didn't work out. Every time I thought it was clear, I'd hear a whisper or a muffled giggle. I cocooned myself in my covers and waited, but the next thing I knew, it was daylight. I woke up scratching my leg.

Unfortunately, getting five girls to pack their stuff and clean a cabin took more time and energy than I'd anticipated. We led them up to the mess hall, but the other campers had finished and left.

“Everybody grab a muffin and a juice box,” Sophie said. “Then we have to march down to the parking lot.”

“I want cereal,” Britney whined.

“Tell your parents you want cereal for lunch,” I said as I grabbed some napkins. “We don't have time.”

“I've never heard of cereal for lunch,” Leslie said.

“You can't have cereal for lunch.” Kelsey rolled her eyes.

“Move it, girls,” Sophie snapped. “I've got a life to get back to.”

When we joined the others, we discovered that Scott had become Ian's mouthpiece.

Each had their cell phones back, and Ian was texting Scott. Scott would then tell the campers what Ian was saying.

Ian had covered his mouth and nose with a dark blue bandana like an outlaw from the Old West. I was relieved that I didn't have to see the fish mouth again.

“Can I take a minute, Sophie?” I had to go talk to him. I didn't care if Scott or the kids heard what I had to say.

Before she could answer, the bus appeared down the road. I could not get a break.

We hugged each camper, and made sure they had all their belongings. I had time to see Ian fist-bumping his campers and tousling their hair, and then Mrs. L was addressing all of us. She called us counselors' heroes and urged the campers to aspire to be like us.

I teared up, but Sophie went a step further and actually sniffled.

The campers cheered to thank their counselors, and then they climbed on the bus.

We waved dutifully until the bus was out of sight.

Mrs. L turned to us and said, “Hallelujah! I think that was the longest week of my life. Let's head to the great room for pizza and cokes. You guys deserve a party.”

“When I get home, I'm going to sleep for a whole day,” Sophie said as we walked over.

“What about Cole?”

“I just want sleep. He can wait.”

“He doesn't get home 'til tomorrow, does he?”

“No. Which only means that I can't prove to you that I'd rather have a nap.”

“Whatever.” Ian kept to the outside fringes of the group as we made our way to the great room.

We walked up the porch to the great room, and Scott ended up holding the door for all of us. An idea hit me, and I stopped long enough to ask him a hushed question. “Can I see your phone for a minute?”

Scott frowned. “Why? You'll get yours back inside.”

“I know.” Shedding my last ounce of self-respect, I gave him a flirtatious smile. “It's really important though. I'll give it right back. I promise.”

“Fine,” he said. Then he pulled his phone out and handed it to me. “I'm missing the pizza.” He went inside, leaving me on the porch alone.

The number he'd used to text Ian all morning was at the top of the text thread. I sent it to my own phone, afraid that I wouldn't remember ten digits in my state of exhaustion. Then I deleted the traces of what I'd done, and turned off the phone.

Sneaky liar much? Yes. If I'd just asked him for the number, he would have teased me or Ian mercilessly. Ian had been avoiding me, and I wasn't going to risk sending him running. Of course, he may be scared off by me texting him, but at least I would be the only one who knew.

I slipped through the door and joined the others. Scott was ready for the hand-off, and The Two J's didn't notice.

Mrs. L was applauding our work over the week, and she began a special thank you to Ian. “I especially want to recognize Ian for all he did to keep his campers safe. Not many teen witches would sacrifice themselves for a child. And while Ian had pointed out to me many times his own discomfort is nothing compared to the life of the child, I think we all know exactly how great his sacrifice truly is.”

“Yeah, man,” Scott said. He clapped his hand on Ian's back. “He's going to miss the rest of the school year, and he told me he was the starting goalie on his team.”

A series of pitying noises filled the room.

Ian's face flamed around the bandana.

“Let's all give Ian a hand,” Mrs. L said.

We clapped and cheered. Ian finally gave up the embarrassed act, and he started bowing. Scott hooted. The two Gregs broke into an unbelievably well-choreographed dance.

We all cheered more.

Finally, the group calmed down.

“Grab some pizza,” Mrs. L said. “You deserve it.”

The others made a dive for the pizza. Except Ian, who grabbed a coke and straw.

I took the opportunity to ask Mrs. L for my phone. “I know we get them back soon, and I'm not trying to cut in line. I just wanted to try to talk to Ian before we left.”

Apparently, I'd said the magic words because Mrs. L beamed at me as we walked to her desk for my phone.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you, Emma. I hope you'll consider coming back.”

I had been dreading this week. I was exhausted, and I had poison ivy on my calf. “Of course,” I answered. “I'd love to.”

She handed me my phone. “Good to hear,” she said.

I powered up my phone, turned off the ringer, and waited for the text from Scott's phone to come through. Then I looked back at the group. Sophie had two cans of Coke in front of her, and she was inhaling her pizza. The others, except for Ian, were happily munching on a slice. Ian had disappeared.

Sophie looked my way, and I held my finger to my lips. Then I backed away from the group to text Ian without everyone clamoring for their own phones.

Now that I had everything I needed, I hesitated. Chicken. Just do it. “Can we talk? It's Emma,” I texted.

I wasn't sure if he would reply. I stuck the phone in my pocket and ordered myself to go back to the others so I wouldn't obsess.

My phone vibrated before I had taken my second step.

I stopped, turned around, and whipped out my phone. Had he really answered?

He had!

“Sure, what's up?”

Here goes nothing. “I'm sorry your spring got ruined.”

“No big deal. I'll live.”

“I wouldn't have been able to save him. I'm going to start studying magic like you guys said.”

“Good. You should. But I knew because Mrs. L did it for me once. I was one of the slow learners.”

He had been a troublemaker? I couldn't picture it. I thought about him bonding with all those campers and jumping in to make them feel better about themselves. I could picture it. “If you hadn't been you, Owen might have died.”

He didn't answer, so I sent another text. “Can I text you?”

“Isn't that what we're doing?”

“I mean later. From home.”

"Sure.”

“Good.”

Mrs. L was calling me over. “One last piece of business. Each of you has earned a bonus this week.”

“One free selfish potion?” Scott asked.

“No. Close. The punishment for your next selfish charm or potion will be attenuated. The punishment will be milder and shorter in duration.”

We all cheered.

“Now grab your things from your cabins. Your parents will be here any minute.”

Sophie busted me as soon as we were alone. “What happened with Ian?”

“How do you know something happened with Ian?”

“You're grinning like a love-sick idiot.”

“Thanks.”

She crossed her arms. “Tell me or die.”

“I texted him. We're going to talk. Well, text.”

Sophie hugged me. “He is so perfect for you. I'm proud of you.”

“Proud of me?”

“Yeah, you're so shy and reserved. I was worried you wouldn't talk to him.”

Shy and reserved? Really. I wasn't that bad. Sure, I didn't have her experience with boys, but…

“Let's go,” she said, grabbing her rolling suitcase and bags.

I grabbed my suitcase full of dirty laundry and went out the door of our cabin for the last time.

“You know what, Emma?” Sophie asked. “I had fun this week.”

“Me too. We should come back.”

Her upper lip curled in disgust. “Are you nuts?”

I was a little nuts.

We passed Ian's cabin just as he and Scott came out. I smiled at him, and I could tell he was smiling back despite the bandana covering the lower half of his face. I could see the smile in his eyes. Instead of avoiding me, he walked along beside me.

Rolling our suitcases on the pea gravel path was a bit awkward. Scott and Ian carried their duffels easily. They didn't walk ahead though. Sophie chattered to Scott about all of the things she would do when she got home.

As we walked, Ian caught my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. I squeezed, and he squeezed back. The thrill of his touch chased away my fatigue.

I could see our parents standing near their cars in the parking lot, and I knew this was my last chance.

“Wait,” I said.

I stopped, and he stopped and turned toward me.

Sophie and Scott were a few feet away.

“Promise you'll text,” I said.

He nodded.

“I'm so glad Sophie got busted for sneaking out with her boyfriend.”

He tilted his head to one side in confusion.

“Never mind,” I said. Then I did the bravest thing I've ever done. I put my free hand on his arm and stood on my tiptoes as I leaned in to kiss his cheek, right above the paisley on his bandana. His cheek was a little scratchy and warm. Heat rose in my face as I met his eyes.

He put his arm on the small of my back and tugged me into a hug. The hug made me wish I never had to leave Camp Cauldron.

He released me and walked me across the lot and over to my car. Sophie and Mom were already talking, and I was sure Sophie had ratted me out.

“Mom,” I said. “This is Ian, and he can’t talk right now. But it isn't his fault. That he can't talk, I mean.”

“Nice to meet you, Ian,” Mom said. She shook his hand.

Then Ian loaded our giant suitcases into the minivan. He waved goodbye, paused for a second, and actually bowed toward me and Mom. He walked over to the SUV, where a man and woman were doing a pitiful job of hiding their curiosity.

I waved at them as the woman hugged him, and then I climbed into the van.

I hadn't been anywhere this soft, cushy, and high tech in a week, and every muscle in my body relaxed as I sank into the seat. Sophie had her head down and was texting already.

“So,” my mother said as she started the engine. “What have I missed?”

I didn't answer. I closed my eyes to keep the memory fresh. I couldn't fight my grin as the van crunched the gravel under its tires, and we pulled out of the camp.

Through the fabric of my khaki shorts, I felt my cell vibrate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

For more magic, more kissing, and a cute guy who doesn't have fish lips, check out Zoe's story, Stirring Up Trouble.

***

Juli Alexander writes young adult romances and romantic comedies for teens. In “Camp Cauldron,” Emma shies away from her magic, but Zoe has a passion for potions in Stirring Up Trouble. She’s searching for a substitution for toad slime and hopes to cure disease. In the April 2012 release, The Karma Beat, Jen, a genie, risks getting banished to the other realm. And in May 2012, Ally deals with unpleasant realities as a teen with divorced parents in My Life as the Ugly Stepsister. www.julialexanderauthor.com