Camp Little Willow

Chapter 6

     We leave Zoe's car in a layby on the main road, five minutes away from the retreat. The road is quiet but we go through the trees anyway, talking over the plan one last time. When we see the bright white of the retreat through the green foliage, we fall silent.

     Zoe leads us to the door through the car park which is full of expensive-looking cars. We walk along the grass verge, hoping that the cars shield us from the receptionist's view. I roll my eyes when I hear the guys 'oooh' as we walk past an especially nice car.

     We creep around the corner of the building, reaching our secret entrance. It's propped open with a cardboard box full of toilet roll. As we huddle behind the door, the faint sound of classical music and smell of delicious food fills the air around us. 

     Zoe glances at her watch. "OK, it's five-thirty. The banquet starts at six. Cassie, you're up. Follow the route we talked about; it'll take you right to the hall. Find Ryan, keep him talking, he's the most likely to recognise us. We'll give you ten minutes then we'll drift in one by one," she whispers. 

     I nod my head as the boys offer me a salute. I give them a weak smile in return, butterflies filling my stomach. Taking a deep breath, I walk as confidently as I can through the door. There is no turning back now. The corridor is short and when I reach the end I turn right, avoiding the reception area. 

     The new corridor is wider and when people file out of the lift laughing and talking, I join the group silently to make myself less inconspicuous. 

     Around me, everyone is dressed to the nines. The men wear suits and the woman fancy dresses and awfully big, obnoxious fascinators. The kids wear stylish dresses or shorts and shirts. I fit in easily, although I still feel completely underdressed. 

     But the most worrying thought in my head is Crash, he'll stick out like a sore thumb for sure. He could blow our cover, but then, if he does get recognised and thrown out, we'll still have Tyler; he's the one who is going to start the food fight, we're just here to watch the chaos unfold.

     The group filters through huge double doors into a room easily the size of the counsellor's camp twice over. I break away from the cluster of people and take a moment to let the reality set in. I lean against the wall and take some deep breaths. How the hell am I supposed to find Ryan Jefferson in here? 

     I stare across the room, through the two walls made completely of glass and watch the lake glisten in the sun. In the distance, I can just see camp and the bright yellow logo of the flag as it flutters lazily in the breeze. 

     I'm doing this for the camp. For Aunt Jen. 

     I push off the wall and force myself into the crowd. By the right-hand wall is an orchestra playing something light and summery. In front of the glass wall is a long white table, on a stand so that it's slightly higher than the circular tables dotted around the furthest half of the room. It's got to be for the Jefferson's and I cringe at the whole situation.

     The people around me are in groups; hugging, talking, laughing. I feel out of place and I must look it because a few people raise their eyebrows at me. I retreat back to the edge of the room and pluck a glass of what looks like champagnes from a waiter's tray when they aren't looking. I'm not going to drink it, champagne tastes awful, but it helps me feel slightly more at ease, and hopefully makes me look like I belong.

     I watch the room carefully, looking for anyone who fits Ryan Jefferson's description, as vague as it is. Short brown hair and brown eyes was all the others could think of. Crash offered a 'stupid smile' as well but I have no idea how to tell if a person's smile is stupid. Something notable, like a scar across his face, would be really helpful right about now.