Unknown (The Secret Life of Cassie Martin #1)(3)
The middle-aged man’s face remains blank as I answer, “I’ve lived in and out of foster homes and orphanages my entire life. This is my first time to camp.”
In the next instant, I want to kick myself. What made me give him so much information? The more people know about me; the more they can use against me.
Mr. Pratt’s eyebrows bunch while he considers my statement. His deep, blue eyes never stray from mine as if he tries to read my thoughts. “There’s been a slight mix up, I’m afraid. We have you listed as a boy, which would put you in one of the boys’ cabins.”
“Clearly, I’m a girl,” I grump. “I don’t want to be in a cabin with boys.”
“Oh, my dear, we don’t mix boys and girls in the same cabin. Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed I handed your father the rules, schedules, and class choices.” Mr. Pratt points to the packet in Simon’s hand.
“I’m not your dear, and he’s not my father,” I respond back before turning to Simon, stretching my hand out. “Please hand me the packets so I can read them.”
Simon passes me the packet, but I hold off on reading it until we finish checking in.
He turns back to Mr. Pratt. “When will you know her cabin assignment, so I can get her settled in? I’m not comfortable leaving her here without knowing she’ll be taken care of.”
I was worried I might have hurt Simon with my declaration of him not being my father, but, to my relief, he seems more worried about my current situation.
“Give me a few minutes while I speak with Ms. Whitney, the head of our female students. It shouldn’t take us long to sort this out since I don’t believe we’re at max capacity with this summer.” Mr. Pratt gets up and walks over to a pretty, young blond speaking with some parents.
As he walks away, I question whether this camp is a fit for me. I mean, how hard can it be to assign a cabin correctly? I understand if my name was unisex, like Jessy or Taylor, but not Cassandra.
Again, Simon pulls me out of my reverie. “I’m sure there’s a simple explanation for this, and it will be resolved quickly. These are supposed to be extremely intelligent people, so how hard can it be?” His smirk clues me in that he knows what I was thinking.
A few minutes later, Mr. Pratt and Ms. Whitney join us at the table.
“Hello, Cassandra. My name’s Kelly Whitney, and I’m the girls’ counselor for the camp. I’m sorry for the confusion with your cabin. I have a place for you in cabin number five. I’ll show you there, now.” She starts to walk away, but turns back to Simon. “Mr. French, please wait for us here. Although parents are allowed back in the cabin area, we like to try and begin the separation up front so there are no emotional memories built back where the girls stay.”
Simon nods and hands me my bag. I follow Ms. Whitney down the dusty, gravel-covered road to the cabins.
“You may call me Kelly. We like to be informal around here. It helps build trust which in turn allows us to understand your strengths but also your weaknesses, so we can make you into the leaders of tomorrow.” She sounds like a brochure for the place.
“Cassie. People call me Cassie. I’m only called Cassandra by the authorities. I’ll be frank with you, I don’t know much about your camp. I was only just informed I would be attending two days ago. I have the packet of instructions from Mr. Pratt, but I haven’t had a chance to read them yet.” What is this place? I wish the camp sent out the material in the packets before we arrived on site. Kelly’s young; I wouldn’t place her as someone in charge of people a few years her junior.
“Well, Cassie”—the brightness in her voice, followed by a wink, gives me the impression she thinks I’ve let her in on a secret—“Camp Odysseus started more than a hundred years ago to help educate future generations to be open to new ideas, to think through existing problems and find solutions, and to help lead the government and businesses. The camp is named for the same Odysseus that you may have read about in a mythology class. He was an excellent strategist. He overcame adversity. Most importantly, he was the hero to many. Those are the qualities we look for in our students.”
“I don’t think I belong here,” I blurt out.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. This place throws me off my game. I usually control what I say or how I react in situations, but not here. Based on her assessment of the camp, I don’t meet any of the qualities they seek in their participants.
“Why would you say that?” When she stops in the middle of the road, I almost run into her.
Softly, I sigh to myself. I’ve done it now; although, maybe if I tell her, they’ll kick me out. “I’ve gotten into fights at school before. I’ve broken into houses. I’ve stolen—”
She cuts me off before I can finish my resume. “You were protecting a young girl from a bully when you fought the last time.”
How does she know that? “Yes, but—”
She interrupts me, again. “When you broke into the house, you were checking to make sure the boy that lived there was being fed.”
This is crazy. “Yes, but—”
“You stole food to give to a homeless man that lived in the back of the park.” Her hands move to her hips, and her eyes widen, waiting for my response.
“Where did you get all of this information? I was told my records are sealed because this all happened when I was underage.” At this point, I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into because not even Simon knew all those things.