R. L. Stine
The Curse of Camp Cold Lake
1
I got off to a bad start at Camp Cold Lake.
I was nervous when I arrived. And I guess I did some dumb things.
Well, I didn’t want to go to a water sports camp.
I don’t like to be outdoors. I hate the feeling of grass brushing against my ankles. I don’t even like to touch trees. And I certainly don’t like getting wet.
Sure, I like to go swimming once in a while. But not every day! What’s the point of that?
I like to swim in a nice, clean pool. I took one look at the lake here-and I was sick. I knew there had to be horrible things swimming around in that water.
Ugly creatures, waiting below the surface. Thinking to themselves: “Sarah Maas, we’re waiting for you. Sarah, we’re going to rub our slimy bodies on your legs when you swim. And we’re going to chew off your toes, one by one.”
Yuck. Why do I have to swim in slime?
Of course, Aaron was so excited, he nearly exploded.
When we climbed off the camp bus, he was jumping up and down and talking a mile a minute. He was so crazed. I thought he was going to burst out of his clothes and go running into the lake!
My brother likes camp. He likes sports and the outdoors. He likes just about everything and everyone.
And everyone always likes Aaron. He’s so enthusiastic. He’s so much fun.
Hey-I like to have fun too. But how can you have fun when there are no malls, no movie theaters, no restaurants to get a slice of pizza or a bag of french fries?
How can you have fun up to your neck in a freezing cold lake every day? In a camp miles from any town? Surrounded on all sides by thick woods?
“This is going to be awesome!” Aaron declared. Dragging his duffel bag, he hurried off to find his cabin.
“Yeah. Awesome,” I muttered glumly. The bright sun was already making me sweat.
Do I like to sweat? Of course not.
So why did I come to Camp Cold Lake? I can answer that in three words: Mom and Dad.
They said that a water sports camp would give me confidence. They said it would help make me more comfortable with the outdoors.
And they said it would give me a chance to make new friends.
Okay, I admit it. I don’t make friends easily. I’m not like Aaron. I can’t just walk up to someone and start talking and kidding around.
I’m a little shy. Maybe it’s because I’m so much taller than everyone else. I’m a whole head taller than Aaron. And he’s only a year younger than I am. He’s eleven.
I’m tall and very skinny. Sometimes Dad calls me “Grasshopper”.
Guess how much I like that.
About as much as I like swimming in a cold lake filled with hidden creatures.
“Be a good sport about it, Sarah,” Mom said.
I rolled my eyes.
“Give camp a chance,” Dad added. “You might surprise yourself and have a good time.”
I rolled my eyes again.
“When you come home at the end of summer, you’ll probably beg us to take you camping!” Dad joked.
I wanted to roll my eyes again-but they were getting tired from all that rolling.
I gave my parents a glum sigh. Quick hugs. Then I followed Aaron onto the camp bus.
He grinned the whole way to camp. He was really excited about learning how to water-ski. And he kept asking everyone if the camp had a high diving board over the lake.
Aaron made three or four good friends on the bus ride to camp.
I stared out the window, watching the endless blur of trees and farms. Thinking about my lucky friends who got to stay home and hang out at the mall.
Then here we were at Camp Cold Lake. Kids pulling their bags off the bus. Laughing and joking. Counselors in dark green T-shirts greeting everyone, pointing them in the right direction.
I began to cheer up a little bit.
Maybe I will make some new friends, I thought. Maybe I’ll meet some kids who are a lot like me-and we’ll have a great summer.
But then I stepped into my cabin. I saw my three bunk mates. I looked around.
And I let out a cry. “Oh, no! No way!”
2
I guess I shouldn’t have freaked like that.
It made a very bad first impression.
But what was I supposed to do?
There were two bunk beds in the cabin. The three other girls had already chosen their beds. There was only one bed left-right in front of the window.
And the window had no screens.
Which meant that my bed would be crawling with bugs. I took one glance-and I knew I’d be swatting mosquitoes every night for the whole summer.
Besides, I can’t sleep in a top bunk. I toss and turn a lot at night. If I slept on top, I’d fall on my head.
I had to sleep on the bottom. In the bed against the far wall, away from the open window.
“I–I can’t do this!” I blurted out.
My three bunk mates turned to look at me. One had blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Near her was a short, chubby girl with long brown hair. In the bottom bunk against the wall, an African-American girl with long cornrows stared across the cabin at me.
I guess they wanted to say hi and introduce themselves. But I didn’t give them a chance.
“Someone has to trade beds with me!” I cried. I didn’t mean to sound so shrill. But I was really upset.
Before they could answer, the cabin door swung open. A sandy-haired young guy in a dark green camp T-shirt poked his head in.
“I’m Richard,” he said. “I’m the boss guy, the head dude. Everything okay in here?”
“No!” I cried.
I couldn’t stop myself. I was just so nervous and unhappy. “I can’t sleep in this bunk!” I told him. “I don’t want to be near the window. And I need to sleep on the bottom.”
I could see that the other girls were shocked by my outburst.
Richard turned to the girl who was sitting on the bottom bunk against the wall. “Briana, would you trade beds with-”
“Sarah,” I told him.
“Would you trade bunks with Sarah?” Richard asked Briana.
She shook her head so hard, the beads in her cornrows rattled against each other. “I really don’t want to,” she said softly.
She pointed to the chubby girl with long brown hair, who sat on a camp trunk. “Meg and I were bunk mates last year,” Briana told Richard. “And we kind of wanted to be together.”
Meg nodded. She had a round, baby face. Squirrel cheeks out to here. And she wore blue and red braces on her teeth.
“I can’t sleep in front of the window,” I insisted. “I really can’t. I hate bugs.”
Richard stared hard at Briana. “How about it?”
Briana groaned. “Oh… all right.” She made a face at me.
“Thanks,” Richard said. I could see he was studying me.
He probably thinks I’m a real troublemaker, I thought.
Briana climbed off the bottom bunk. She dragged her duffel bag across the room to the bunk by the window. “It’s all yours,” she muttered.
She didn’t say it in a friendly way.
I felt bad. My bunk mates hate me already, I thought.
Why do I always do that? Why do I always get nervous and start off on the wrong foot with people?
Now I’ve got to try really hard to make them my friends, I decided.
But a minute later, I did something horrible.
3
“Hey-thanks for trading bunks, Briana,” I said. “That was really nice of you.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. Meg pulled open her trunk and started shoving shorts and T-shirts into her dresser drawer.
The third girl smiled at me. “Hi. I’m Janice,” she said. She had a raspy, hoarse voice. “Everyone calls me Jan.”
Jan had a nice smile. She had her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had dark blue eyes and red cheeks. She seemed to be blushing all the time.