Lost in Love Read Free Page B

though I just had a bagel. If counselors qualified for free breakfast, I’d be all over that.
    Nature takes place in a classroom with southern exposure. All sorts of plants are growing in ceramic pots along the counter that runs under the windows. Today we’re learning how to repot plants. Then everyone will decorate a pot. At the end of the summer, the kids will get to take their plants home.
    â€œIt’s very important that you water your plant right afteryou repot it,” the nature instructor explains to the group. He’s repotting a plant on a table in the front of the room for everyone to watch before they repot theirs. “Plants are in trauma when their pot is changed. Make sure you give them plenty of water right away.”
    After the demo, the girls begin prepping their areas to repot their plants. They spread newspaper on the floor. They bring watering cans over to their stations. Momo digs her trowel into a bucket of soil, then pulls too hard when she scoops the soil out. Soil goes flying all over her shirt. She tries to rub it off, but then she has streaks of soil down her white shirt.
    This is why every camper is required to keep a change of clothes in the main office.
    â€œCome on,” I tell her. “Let’s go change.”
    â€œMy shirt is ruined.”
    â€œNo it’s not. That soil will come out in the wash.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Momo sounds more worried than she should be about getting her shirt dirty.
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    â€œGood. My mom would be mad if I ruined another shirt.”
    We go to the main office. Cecelia makes pouty lips at Momo’s shirt.
    â€œYour nice white shirt,” she sympathizes. “I’m always spilling things on my white shirts.”
    â€œTell me about it,” I mumble. The white top thatAddison spilled punch on was permanently stained. And that was my only presentable top until Darcy gave me all those fancy clothes. “Can we grab Momo’s backup shirt?”
    â€œYou bet.” Cecelia unlocks the door to a storage room and returns with Momo’s extra shirt. “Just have your mom send another clean shirt with you to camp tomorrow, okay?” Cecelia instructs Momo.
    â€œOkay,” Momo says.
    â€œOr I can call her for you.”
    â€œNo!” Momo yells. “It’s okay. I won’t forget to tell her.”
    â€œAll righty then.” Cecelia throws me a look. I press my lips together to prevent myself from saying something I shouldn’t. At least in front of Momo.
    We find an empty classroom where Momo can change. The girls usually have no problem changing in front of one another. On days when we go to the public pool, they all take their clothes off to change into bathing suits in the same room. But Momo darts to the corner to change into her clean shirt. She faces away from me, hunkered down.
    â€œCan you not look?” she says.
    I turn away from her. “I’m not looking.”
    She changes quickly. On the way back to nature, we stop at her locker to put her dirty shirt in her backpack.
    â€œAre you sure this dirt will come out?” she asks me again.
    â€œYes. Just tell your mom to wash the shirt in hot water.”
    â€œMaybe she didn’t do that last time.”
    â€œWhat happened last time?”
    Momo pauses for a second. Then she runs back into nature without answering me.
    I follow her in, lingering near the door. The last thing I want to do is crowd Momo and scare her off from telling me something I should know. I’m getting worried about her. Most of the time she seems fine. She gets along with everyone. She acts like a normal girl. But sometimes she’ll say or do something that seems a little off. Something that strikes a familiar chord.
    She jumped a mile when a metal tub fell in arts and crafts. Then she ran over to the water fountain, sweaty and shaken. Her reaction reminded me of how panicked I was when that guy grabbed me at