Luckily, Poppy didn't miss a beat in telling me her year. "Okay, me first. In the beginning of the year last year I started talking to John-"
"That kid you liked with the girlfriend?" I intervene, giving her a look.
She rolls her eyes at me. "He had just broken up with his girlfriend. Or, that's what he told me. So I started talking to him, and we started hooking up every now and again. But one day when I was at his house and we were making out, his ex walks into his bedroom. It turns out, they never broke up, but he just wanted to hook up with me and knew I wouldn't if they were still dating! Isn't that ridiculous? Well, his girlfriend and I were so mad, that we went to his house at midnight a week later and spray painted a huge p**** on the hood of his car."
I laugh and listen to her animatedly explain, in detail, her other outlandish escapades over the past year. I laugh often and just as frequently cringe at the detail she gives, but after ten minutes of unnecessary yet insanely amusing information, there are tears streaming out of my eyes from laughing so hard. Poppy was one of the craziest girls I've ever met. She wasn't afraid of anything, and because of that, she always had the most outrageous stories.
"Okay Mina, your turn," Poppy says once we've both sobered up.
I bite my lip, reluctant to talk about the past year. "Not much has been going on, really."
Poppy gave me a blank look that I could read as 'who are you trying to fool?' before telling me flatly, "You're a bad liar. C'mon, Mina, it can't be that bad. How's Jake?"
I sigh when I think of Jake, my boyfriend of a year and a half. A flash of sadness momentarily washes through me as I grow nostalgic thinking about his sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but I try to push the hurt aside.
"We broke up," I mutter, meeting Poppy's surprised gaze. "He cheated on me."
Her eyes bulged out of her sockets before narrowing into a deathly glare as she hissed, "I am going to cut off his b***s and shove them up his ass! Please tell me you got revenge."
I smile a little mischievously as I think back to exactly what happened after I found out he cheated on me. "Well, I might've cut a sizable hole in the back of his soccer shorts right before his game so he had to play the entire game with his rubber ducky boxers showing."
Poppy doubles over with laughter, and I can't hold back my own when I think back to the game. I had snuck in the locker room right before the game, so he had no choice but to wear the shorts, hole and all. A satisfied smirk graces my lips when I remember sitting in the bleachers with the rest of the girls in my grade as they giggled and pointed at Jake's bright yellow boxers during the entire game.
When I came home that day and told my parents that Jake and I broke up, they were more than relieved. They never approved of me having a boyfriend- the one rule I ever blatantly broke- and especially didn't like Jake. My mom insisted that Jake was a horrible distraction from my schoolwork (which never wavered) and my piano (which never suffered).
"I still think you should castrate him and make sure he never reproduces, but that was pretty good too," Poppy laughs, but then becomes more somber. "How have your parents been?"
I sigh again; another subject I didn't want to talk about. "They're still the same control freaks that they've always been. I mean, they seriously think that I'm going to go to Juilliard to play piano after senior year." I shake my head, already frustrated just thinking about it. "It's not happening. There's not a chance in hell that I'm going to let myself wind up like them."
In an attempt to lighten the mood, she jokes, "I think we're going to have to find you a summer love this year."
My smile dropped and eyebrows raised in surprise as I splutter, "What?"
She smirks. "It sounds like you've had a shitty year, and what better way to fix that than a cute boy?"
"Oh come on," I groan. "You know I don't just hook up with guys."
Poppy may be into using boys as bandaids, which of course was fine if it worked for her; however, I'm the opposite. I've never been interested in the boys at camp, nor have I ever been interested in becoming invested in someone for four weeks and then leaving them behind. Unlike me, most of the campers at Camp Wisahickon traveled here from states along the east coast, and after July ends, I don't see them again until next year. Therefore, I didn't see it worthwhile to start a relationship if it's imminent to end.
"Exactly! It's time for you to experience a simple, no strings attached, easy and fun fling with a cute boy." Upon seeing my skepticism, Poppy adds, "Think about it. The last boy you kissed was Jake. Don't you want to change that?"
I'm not going to lie, her point struck a chord with me. It suddenly bothered me that the last boy I kissed was Jake, when I wasn't the last girl he kissed. I mean, isn't that unfair? He cheated on me, and yet he stole my last kiss. Poppy recognizes that her comment got to me, and a satisfied smirk stretches across her lips. Like usual, she had won.
"Okay, I'm open to the idea," I admit sheepishly. "But we'll see what happens."
After a half hour more of talking, Poppy dragged me back to the cabin so she could change before dinner. As we sat outside, it began getting cooler and cooler, the breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees and slapping us on our bare arms. We walked back to the cabin slowly, stopping every few feet to greet old friends and familiar faces, and finally reached the door with a brightly painted 5 on the center.
When we walk into the cabin, the first thing I see is Sarah, who is glaring toward our bunk bed. She meets my eye and motions for me to follow her gaze, and when I do, I see why she was glaring. Sitting on the top bunk, where Poppy has been situated for the past four years, was a girl with unnaturally bleach blonde hair and entirely too much makeup on.
She's lying down on Poppy's bed and doesn't even bother looking up when we enter, but keeps her eyes glued on the screen of her phone. Poppy stomps over to her and puts her hands on her hips threateningly, but the blonde doesn't spare her a glance; she just continues to text away, her fingernails hitting the screen and creating an incessant tapping noise.
"Excuse me," I hear Poppy say, a rude coldness thick in her voice.
The blonde looks up from her phone and raises a perfectly polished eyebrow at Poppy, as if she were an annoying pest. "What?"
Poppy grinds her teeth together and practically growls, "You're in my bed."
The blonde looks bothered, but not by Poppy's words, rather by her existence. "Oh, this is your bed?"
Poppy nods impatiently. "Yes. I've slept on it for the past four summers, and those," She motions to the ground, where her bags were discarded. "were my bags that you threw on the ground."
By now, Sarah and the other two girls, Julie and Patty, we're watching the spectacle with wide eyes. They, like me, were waiting for Poppy to lose her temper and show this girl who's boss. I watch incredulously, a few steps behind Poppy, as the blonde glances at the bags, and then back at Poppy.
"Too bad. It's mine now." And then she looks back at her phone, as if the entire thing had never happened.
Poppy glanced back and saw my incredulous expression, which matched her own, before it twisted into a scowl. Her temper was flaring, and I could tell that this wouldn't end well for the blonde. Poppy turned back to the blonde and snapped, "You're new, so I'll give you another chance. This isn't your bed. Go on a free bottom bunk."
"I don't do bottom bunks," The blonde says casually, eyes still on her phone.
When I see Poppy take a step forward, I decide it's time to diffuse the situation. Taking a few quick steps, I grab my best friends hand and pull her back to me. As I suspected, her eyes are ablaze and she was pissed.
"Just change and let's go to the dining hall," I say sternly, and then lower my voice. "We will get your bunk back later, don't worry."
Poppy must've seen the mischief glinting in my eyes, because a similar expression overcame her face, and she seemed more than pleased to follow my instructions. Sarah apparently heard me, because when I caught her gaze, she was smirking knowingly at us.
We had a bit of a reputation at camp, you see. While most campers found excitement in the daytime activities, like sports or music lessons, Poppy and I found more excitement in the things we could only do once the sun was down.
Things like playing powerful pranks to anyone that crossed us.