Sirena and I laughed a little.
“Hey,” Hanna dropped her voice. “Did you know Gilda Radner doesn’t have a counselor?”
“What?” Emily asked. She was a cat with its fur standing on end.
Paloma picked up Hanna’s discarded backpack and handed it to her. “She canceled at the last minute. Got cast on a Second City touring company. They’re scrambling to replace her, but since there’s only five of us—”
“We’re the only girls in the whole camp?” I interrupted, stunned. “There’s like two hundred people here.”
“Yup,” Hanna said. “And since I am really more ghost than girl—”
“Hanna.” Paloma grabbed her wrist. “You do not look like a ghost.”
Hanna smiled. “It’s okay. I’m eternal.” She turned to the rest of us. “Paloma here is my biggest defender.”
Paloma shook her head. “I mostly defend you against you,” she said and slung her own bag over her shoulder.
“Make the first joke, then they laugh with you,” Hanna said, shrugging.
“What are we going to do without a counselor?” Emily asked, shifting from one foot to the other. Sirena wrapped her arm around her shoulders.
Hanna shrugged again. “We’ve got Paloma. After I met her, I told my mom I didn’t need her anymore.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open.
“She’s joking,” Paloma assured her. “I’m just good at keeping a schedule.”
Emily brightened. “Really? You know where we need to be next?”
Paloma smiled at Emily. “Yeah. Dinner’s at six at the Main Lodge. Hanna and I should drop our stuff off at the cabin. We can unpack later. And auditions are tomorrow at nine a.m. Are you all auditioning?”
We nodded and Paloma said, “Good. I thought we could warm up together before we go. And make sure you have some protein at breakfast. It’ll keep you full through the morning.”
“See?” said Hanna, wriggling her eyebrows at us. “Hope you needed a mom here.”
“I’d love one,” Emily said. “I just don’t want to play one.” She grinned as Sirena and I laughed.
Emily and Sirena and I helped Paloma and Hanna with their luggage, and we all turned to follow the path back to Gilda Radner.
A few steps in, Emily’s shoulders relaxed and her face went smooth again. Paloma’s surety about the schedule seemed to have calmed her anxiety. She took a deep breath and asked, “So . . . Hanna . . . albinism . . . that’s why you look like Elsa from Frozen?”
I inhaled sharply, but Hanna laughed.
“Her skin is way pinker than mine, but yeah. I always say I’m more Elsa than Elsa. But I’ve been her for Halloween like fifty times.”
“Me, too!” Emily grinned.
Paloma rolled her eyes. “Hanna keeps trying to make me be her Anna, but that whole Nordic scene doesn’t really jive with my coloring.”
“Ditto,” Sirena chuckled, and she and Paloma high-fived.
“Yeah, so instead, Paloma’s been that uni-brow artist Frida Kahlo for Halloween fifty times,” Hanna teased her.
“Sirena’s always Katherine Johnson,” Emily said.
“The human computer?” I asked. “From NASA?”
Sirena beamed at me. “I love that you know who Katherine Johnson is.”
“Hey! I knew who Katherine Johnson was,” Emily interrupted, hands on her hips.
“We watched Hidden Figures together.” Sirena shook her head at her. “I’m talking—”
“You guys? I have something important to say.” Hanna abruptly stopped walking and her face pulled into a worried look. We all held our breath. She clapped a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “We’re seriously in a rut when it comes to Halloween.”
By now we were all laughing. But a tiny little voice whispered in my head, No one asked, so no one here knows you’re always Hermione Granger for Halloween. I shook my head to silence the voice.
“For the record, Hanna,” Emily piped up, “I don’t think you look like a ghost at all.”
“Now, see, Paloma, you can sheathe your arrows.” Hanna linked one arm through Paloma’s and the other through Emily’s. “My fellow Elsa here thinks I look firmly of this world.”
Dragging suitcases and lugging backpacks, the five of us trooped back to the cabin along the dirt path. I wanted to look up at the mountains, but I kept tripping over tree roots. It was going to take a while to get used to the terrain.
CHAPTER FIVE
By the time we dumped the luggage, walked over to the Main Lodge, and climbed the steps up to the wraparound porch, I was breathing surprisingly hard.
“It’s the altitude,” Sirena said, watching me clutch dramatically at my chest. “Drink lots of water so you don’t get altitude sickness. It’ll get easier to breathe when you acclimate.”
I took a giant slug of water out of my bottle, crossed the porch, pulled open the front screen door, and found myself in a large, open room. A range of mountains was on display through the floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall. On the far end, a hip-high stage ran the width of the room. I took a deep breath—that must be where the final show would be performed. Twelve large tables with folding chairs arranged around them filled the space where I expected an audience to be. The tables go away for the show, I decided. I looked up in search of stage lights and found a couple rows of rigging near the stage, but the rest of the A-frame roof featured ceiling fans and round globes that illuminated the dining area. It was clear this place had been retrofitted for theatre, but it was wonderful nevertheless.
I must have gazed around a little too long for Emily’s patience because she slipped past me with Sirena’s hand in hers and scooted through the crowd to sit with their team. Hanna and Paloma waved at a group of guys who waved back. I hadn’t realized they’d also come with a group.
Paloma glanced over her shoulder at me. “You want to join us?”
There were only enough chairs for two more, so I waved her away. “I’ll find my brother. See you later!”
I scanned the room, looking for Will. He and Jonas were seated at an all-guys table and looked very settled in. My heart lurched a little. How did I go from knowing six people to sitting with no one?
Trust yourself. Trust your scene partner.
One table was still empty, so I slid into a seat. Maybe someone would join me. Since I didn’t have my phone to entertain me, I looked around, trying to make friendly eye contact with passersby to no avail.
Finally, someone tapped my right shoulder. I turned right, but no one was there. When I turned to my left, I jumped—it was Thor/Ben, the blond Scandinavian god/coach.
“Gotcha,” he said.
I hate that middle school trick, but I didn’t want to come off as a jerk, so I pretended to laugh as he flopped in a chair two down from me.
“Hi,” I said. “Did you get sent by the powers that be to talk to the super-awkward loner?”
He laughed. “No. I came to make sure you were going to audition tomorrow. You were funny before.”
He thought I was funny before? When? At the car? What had I even said?