Chapter One: Stakes Chapter One STAKES
MAY 3

I’M GIVING THE most important presentation of my life. It’s not for school, and it’s not an audition. But my stomach clenches and there’s a tingle of sweat at the back of my neck as if I’m in a packed auditorium, instead of speaking for an audience of two.

Dad and my stepmom, Deb, sit in front of me on the love seat, their legs touching.

If I don’t get this right, I won’t be able to go to Maine this summer. And my annual trips there are something I live for. All winter, as I’m slogging through the gray New York slush, I dream of the pebbly beach and the soft pine-needle forest paths of Spruce Point. It’s where I feel most like myself, and where I feel closest to my mom. This has to work.

“We’re ready, Frankie girl,” says Dad. “Let ’er rip.”

I square my shoulders and open the slideshow on my laptop. The first picture is of a set of cabins nestled among bright green trees. I clear my throat and speak in my future-lawyer voice. “Welcome to my presentation on why you should allow me to apply for the leader-in-training program at Camp Asticou.”

Next slide. A shot from last summer of me and my best friend, Parker Emerton, his sun-darkened arm draped over my pale shoulder. “As you know, our family has been renting the same cottage next to the Emertons’ Home Away Inn since before I can remember.” Well, technically Deb has only been there three times, since she and Dad got together when I was nine.

Dad’s eyes soften and he smiles. Deb’s mouth remains a straight line. She doesn’t love the rustic, woodsy vibe of the area around Fairview, Maine, the way Dad and I do. That’s why, “in the spirit of compromise,” Dad has agreed to stay closer to the city and rent a place on Long Island near where Deb grew up so they could “explore properties.” When I heard that, I knew I needed to come to my own rescue.

“Summer visits are very important to Parker and me,” I continue, “and he is securing permission to apply to this program as well.”

Next slide. The two of us with a bunch of other kids. “I miss my summer friends all year, and you’ve told me Mom believed in the importance of maintaining lifelong friendships.”

I shift my eyes to the abstract painting on the back wall, so I won’t have to see their reactions. Using the dead-mom card is a low blow, and I know it. But desperate times and all that. My mom died when I was two, but Dad talks to me about her all the time. He always says it would be a good thing if I turned out to be the same kind of person she was.

Next slide. A wide-angle view of our annual vacation spot on Spruce Point: the inn, cottages, and a few other homes with the ocean behind them.

“I know us kids got in some trouble last year, back when we thought Mrs. Gruvlig was a witch. But it won’t be like that again, I promise.” Mrs. Gruvlig is Parker’s only year-round neighbor. We thought she’d reawakened a centuries-old curse on the area, so obviously we had to investigate that. I’m not sorry, either, because it led to some spectacular adventures and a new friend.

I’ve been studying the Paranormal America: Coastal Maine book I found during our search and am eager to be back in an environment that sees spikes in that kind of activity every summer. Or so the book says. It certainly felt true last year. But I don’t have a slide about that, since it wouldn’t help my cause.

Next slide. An enormous stone arch between two massive pillars. The center block reads Camp Asticou 1928.

I look at the notes I took from their website.

“Camp Asticou is a small, old-fashioned summer camp with a big heart. The camp hosts an average of eighty campers per session across two distinct sections and prides themselves on individual attention to each child in their care. Their leader-in-training program is a two-week immersion for thirteen-year-olds who aspire to gain independence, maturity, and leadership skills under the close mentorship of experienced counselors. There is no charge to participate in the program, as LITs assist in activity areas and are an important part of the staffing model.”

Next slide. A screenshot of a map of the Spruce Point peninsula and surrounding area.

“The camp is exactly 13.6 miles from the Home Away Inn, so Parker’s parents could be there quickly if there was an emergency. Which there won’t be.”

Next slide. Happy camp kids swimming in a pond, the sun setting behind them. I read from my notes again. “Located on beautiful freshwater Walker Pond, Camp Asticou inspires curiosity in nature and is only minutes from the Atlantic Ocean and one of the most pristine tidal areas on the Eastern Seaboard, Penobscot Bay.”

Final slide. A selfie of me with puppy-dog eyes.

“Please, please, please let me apply for the leader-in-training program at Camp Asticou. Thank you for your kind attention.”

I close my laptop. Every muscle in my body tenses. This is it.

Finally, after a painfully long moment where Dad and Deb seem to have a whole conversation with only their eyes, they turn to me and say in unison, “Okay.”

I tackle them in a group hug, then zoom around the room, pumped with relief and excitement.

“Thank you! Thank you! You won’t regret this!”