The Art of Being Alone (Together)

07 | Operation Wormeroni

As lunchtime approaches, Lizzie and I manage to collect half a plastic cup's worth of worms. There are at least ten of the little guys, all squirming and crawling over each other in their new house. I feel sort of bad, but if they have any sense of taste, I think they're about to be pretty thankful.

"Okay." I check my watch for the time: five minutes before noon. "The announcement for lunch is about to be made, which means Operation Wormeroni is officially underway. You ready?"

Lizzie gives a determined nod, standing at attention. The two of us start the walk to the mess hall and I try to look casual, like I'm not holding a cup of worms that are about to be used as the nuclear weaponry of our teenage war.

I spot Rita leaning against the outside of the building, a few friends surrounding her as they wait for lunch to start. There are a few other stragglers, hungry enough to be waiting right next to the closed doors. I pull Lizzie behind a large tree, holding the cup close to my chest. 

"You were right," I say, peeking out. I recognize one of the group as Mei. "They're both here."

"Rita always likes to be one of the first people in line," Lizzie says with slight annoyance. "She probably thinks waiting is beneath her."

"It's obnoxious, but we're lucky she's like that-- the less people around, the easier this will be."

It's a weird line we're dancing, here-- we want the room to be empty enough so that no one notices what we're doing, but crowded enough that people witness her almost guaranteed freak-out.

This whole mission would go a lot smoother with more people-- someone to distract her friends, another decoy to keep Shaefer from noticing anything, and me and Liz to do our jobs-- but apart from Zack, I haven't spoken to any other camper than Lizzie. Something tells me she wouldn't be too open to the idea of asking him to join in on our scheme, since she can barely say one sentence to the guy without her face catching on fire.

Besides, difficult doesn't mean impossible, and I'm certain we can do this. At its core, the prank is simple enough. Distract, deploy, retreat.

The speakers around camp turn on with their now-familiar sounding hum, and Miss Rodruiugez's voice lets everyone know that lunch is now being served. On cue, the doors of the mess hall open, and Ethan walks out to prop them in place.

Okay, so that's admittedly an element I wasn't counting on-- the thought of getting caught sucked enough already, but now I have to worry about it happening in front of him.

Rita waggles her fingers in Ethan's direction, strutting inside as if she's on some sort of runway. Subtle. He gives a small nod of acknowledgment, unfortunately looking away just before a pair of two rowdy guys race into the mess hall, bumping into Rita's shoulder and almost knocking her off balance.

She snarls in their direction and dramatically brushes off the arm they rammed into, then double checks that Ethan didn't see. I guess it's safe to say that "ninety percent" Lizzie talked about includes Rita, meaning once again, we've got a thing for the same guy. Go figure. 

"He didn't flirt with her last year, I doubt it's going to happen this year," Lizzie says, shaking her head as she watches.

It's sort of a surprise, given how Rita-obsessed most of the guys at Winsor are. Even here, it seems like most of the boys would trip over themselves if she so much as glanced in their direction, let alone flirted so obviously. Maybe Ethan's seen her personality, and maybe unlike some of the other guys, it actually turned him away. Whatever it is, knowing he isn't into Rita is enough to make my attraction even worse.

As soon as she's inside, Lizzie and I hurry in after her. We casually step in line behind the group, so that we're right after Rita and Mei. As campers file in after us, I keep my hand spread over the opening of the cup and try not to look suspicious. Shaefer takes his usual place right by the entrance, watching over the room with an eagle eye.