"Good Lord, Rita, you can't possibly go out looking like that!"
"And why not?" Rita put a hand on her hip and struck a saucy pose, at which point the barely-there spaghetti straps holding up her low-cut top threatened to slide off her shoulders.
"Because you look like a...a...tramp!"
Amy, clutching her book to her chest, started to tiptoe past her older sisters as they argued in the hallway right next to her bedroom.
"I do not," Rita pouted. "And besides, Mother doesn't have a problem with what I'm wearing."
Helen rolled her eyes. "Mother wouldn't have a problem with you going out naked. Whatever Rita wants, Rita gets!"
"That's not true!" Rita objected. She spotted Amy, one foot already in her room. "Amy, tell Helen that's not true!"
Amy tried to mumble something quiet and noncommittal, but Helen had already cut her off. "Amy knows as well as I do that Mother favors you shamelessly. Almost as shameless as that outfit."
"For your information, this outfit is far out. Something you'd never understand!"
Once again, Amy tried to slip past them unnoticed. "Amy, look at what Rita's wearing!" Helen demanded. Amy obediently glanced toward Rita and then back down toward the floor. "Don't you think that's the most indecent thing you've ever seen?"
"Oh, don't bother to ask Amy about clothes," Rita laughed with a giggle. "What would a twelve-year-old know about fashion, anyway? Especially one wearing those ugly square glasses."
"She's old enough to recognize a hussy when she sees one, aren't you, Amy?"
"You're just jealous because I'm the only one here with a social life."
"You mean social disease," Helen shot back with a smirk.
Rita crossed her arms. "Maybe if you took time off from studying once in a while you'd actually go on a few dates yourself, Helen. Same goes for you, Amy!"
Amy just shrugged, trying to gather the courage to walk away.
"Amy spends her time reading. Which is a much better use of her time than chasing after every boy that crosses her path. Although," Helen turned her attention on Amy, "it would be nice if you tried applying yourself to your schoolwork. You can't spend all your time shut away in your room, you know."
"Right on," Rita chimed in triumphantly. "It's good to let it all hang out once in a while!"
"Don't let too much hang out," Helen growled. To Amy she added, "But Rita does have a point about one thing: you're never going to make friends if you keep your nose buried in a book."
Amy's face grew warm. "Leave me alone," she muttered. Rita and Helen, too busy bickering with each other again, didn't hear her. She finally darted into her room, slamming the door behind her with a satisfying thud.
"Amelia Rose Barksdale, you know better than to slam that door!" Amy's mother called up the stairs.
"Figures that she can tune out Rita and Helen's screaming match, but I shut my door and her wrath descends," Amy grumbled, flopping onto her bed. She started to open her book, but the shouting from outside her room changed her mind and she set it aside. Eventually they'll either storm away from each other or lose their voices from yelling too much. Either way, I'll read when it's quiet.
While she waited, she buried her head in her pillow and tried to pretend she was somewhere else. A tropical island. A peaceful forest where no one can find me. The frozen tundra of Siberia. Anything's better than this.
She became dimly aware of moisture under her face and realized she was crying. She whispered viciously into her pillow, "Stupid Rita. Stupid Helen. Stupid parents. Stupid everyone." She sighed, still not lifting her head. "I just wish...I wish I had just one family member I could relate to."
Helen and Rita's argument abruptly broke off. Amy smiled into her pillow, which for some reason smelled funny. She lifted her head to look at it and blinked a few times in surprise.
It was grass.
Amy stood up quickly and looked around, finding herself outdoors and surrounded by trees. "Hello?" she asked nervously. She wondered if she'd fallen asleep, but the smell of grass and flowers was too strong to believe this was a dream. I did want to be somewhere else, she thought idly, her mind still unable to fully grasp what was going on. I guess I got my peaceful forest after all.
Then she noticed that it wasn't quite so peaceful. She could hear voices nearby, and car doors slamming. She walked in the direction of the sounds and eventually wandered up to a parking lot. She looked up to see a sign proclaiming that she was at a place called Camp Grizzly.
Kids wearing matching blue t-shirts were everywhere, and Amy's first instinct was to escape back into the woods. She was just about to turn and leave when she heard a voice saying, "Daria, you're never going to make friends if you keep your nose buried in a book."
She turned, the words sounding eerily familiar. A woman with reddish-brown hair caught her eye, and she felt as though she'd seen her somewhere before. Then a young girl standing next to the woman--Daria, she guessed--caught her eye and all other thoughts went out of her head. Glasses. Brown hair. Shy expression. Holding a book that's above her reading level. Amy slowly smiled. This girl could be me!
"Let's hope," the girl told her mother, who yanked the book out of her hands. "Hey!" Daria cried, angry.
Daria's parents dragged another, smaller girl with red hair out of the car, who almost immediately ran off to join the crowd of kids. Daria, meanwhile, had just managed to pry the book back from her mother as Amy decided to approach her. I may not know how I got here, but if I can make one friend then this whole weird trip will be worth it.
Daria was watching her parents' car drive away, looking both annoyed and frightened. "Hi," Amy said, feeling awkward.
Turning, Daria made eye contact with her and opened her mouth to speak.
"Hi, fellow campers! Are you as excited as I am to be at Camp Grizzly? Go Grizzlies! Go Grizzlies! Go Grizzlies!" A tall, blond boy had come up from behind the girls and put an arm around each of their shoulders. "I'm Skip," he said with a wide grin. "What are your names?"
"Daria," the other girl said with a sigh.
Amy tried to shrug Skip's arm away, but it stayed put. Annoyed at the invasion of her personal space, she decided on a whim that he didn't deserve the familiarity of her nickname. "Amelia," she said stiffly.
Skip narrowed his eyes at her. "Hey, where's your camp t-shirt? Everyone's supposed to wear a camp t-shirt! I'm going to tell Mr. Potts!" He ran off toward a gray-haired man with a clipboard.
Amy pointed toward the red-haired girl, who was now chatting enthusiastically with three other girls. "So I guess that's your sister?" she asked.
"Apparently I'm her cousin now," Daria replied with obvious disgust. "Not that I'd want to claim her, either."
Looking at Daria's expression, Amy immediately recognized the anger and disappointment she saw there. She was about to tell Daria about her own frustrating sisters when the man Skip had run to came over to them.
"I hear you didn't get a t-shirt," Mr. Potts said cheerfully, handing her a shirt. "This one should fit. We'll be gathering for a sing-a-long over by the picnic tables in a couple of minutes, okay?"
Amy watched as he walked away, wondering why no one seemed to realize that she didn't belong at this camp. I don't even know where this camp is, she realized. My parents don't know where I am. Are they worried? Have they called the police? Do they actually care at all?
She forced herself to calm down, deciding that whatever force had brought her there had also somehow fixed things so she was signed up as a camper. Seeing the bored, distant look on Mr. Potts's face, she wondered if perhaps the camp was just really poorly run. Either way, I'm here and I've already found a friend. Better make the most of it!
She turned back to resume her conversation with Daria, only to find that she'd wandered off and was now sitting at a picnic table. She hurried over to sit down across from her. "So, about your sister--"
Daria scowled. "I don't want to talk about her."
"No, I mean...."
"Talk to the hand."
Amy was puzzled. "Why would I do that?" But Daria had opened her book and begun reading. The cover said Animal Farm. Amy smiled. I read that book a couple months ago! She leaned in. "You know, I like to read, too."
"Good for you. Now get your own book and leave me alone."
Amy sat back, stunned. She blinked away a few tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She's mad at me, she thought with dismay. But I thought we could be friends!
She didn't have time to try again, though, because that's when Mr. Potts clapped his hands to get everyone's attention (aside from Daria, who continued reading). "All right, campers! Follow along with me!" He cleared his throat and began to sing. "We'll never forget you, dear old Camp Grizzly. You're with us in sunshine and weather more drizzly!"
Fearful of being recognized as a trespasser, Amy followed along as best she could. Daria just turned another page in her book.
"How come you aren't singing?" Skip demanded, stalking over to their table and prodding Daria's shoulder. "Everyone's supposed to sing!"
Daria lowered her book and glared at him, but he only towered over her with an intimidating stare. At last she put the book down and began tunelessly reciting the lyrics. Satisfied, Skip wandered away in search of other rebels.
Amy watched Daria's face as they sang, and the misery she saw reflected her own feelings. Only it wasn't the sing-a-long that bothered her; it was her desperation to make a friend. She leaned in to say, "Who does he think he is, President Nixon?"
Daria gave her an odd look. "If so, what this camp needs is a good Watergate." This time it was Amy's turn to be confused. Daria sighed at her blank expression and shook her head. "Won't be the first time something I've said went over the heads of my peers," she muttered, then went back to her half-hearted singing.
Amy couldn't understand what had just happened, but decided not to give up. I'll prove to her that we have things in common, she promised herself. I'll show her that we're exactly alike!
After the sing-a-long and some interminable "get to know you" activities, Mr. Potts announced that they'd all be going on a nature hike. Amy suppressed a groan. She had no interest in wandering through the woods, sweating like a pig and fighting off mosquitos and poison ivy.
For a moment, Amy considered slipping away and bailing on the hike. What'll they do if they find out? she wondered. Tell my parents? Send me home? Good luck with that!
Then she looked at Daria, who was already trudging after the other campers. I could suggest we both skip it, she thought. Hell no, we won't go!
She was about to mention the idea to Daria when she noticed Skip lurking a short distance away. She remembered how he'd bullied Daria into singing. I bet she's scared of him. She doesn't want to make him mad.
Amy decided that a good friend would stick by Daria and offer support. Falling into step next to her, she said, "Isn't Skip a real drag? It's like he's the boss of the camp or something."
"He's not." Daria glared at the ground as they walked. "Mr. Potts is in charge, and the rest of us are supposed to be equals."
Amy thought about Daria's book. All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others. She almost said the quote out loud, but worried that it might sound mean-spirited. Having already gotten off on the wrong foot, Amy didn't want to alienate the closest thing she'd ever found to a friend. She kept quiet.
Amy was relieved when the hike ended and they all returned to camp, until Mr. Potts announced that it was time for some kind of game involving a watermelon. It turned out that the point of the game was to try to jump into the lake and try to catch a grease-coated watermelon. Amy had never heard of anything more ridiculous...or disgusting. She was disappointed when it turned out the camp had a spare swimsuit for her to use, allowing her to join the others on the dock.
"There aren't any sharks in there, are they?" one girl asked nervously.
Another kid began humming an ominous-sounding tune. "Duuuunnn duuunnn...duuunnn duuunnn...duunn duunn...dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun!" The other kids laughed, but Amy didn't get what was so funny. Must be some kind of inside joke.
Mr. Potts blew his whistle, signaling the start of the game, and Amelia reluctantly jumped into the water. She turned to see Daria still standing on the dock. She was about to turn back when Skip grabbed Daria's arm and dragged her into the water. Her glasses bounced off the edge of the dock and landed in the water with a small splash. Amy cringed, knowing how difficult it could be to find missing glasses under even the best circumstances, let alone underwater. She paddled over to Daria and reached out a hand. "Here, I'll help you--" she started to say.
Daria, red-faced and humiliated, swatted her hand away. "Leave me alone, Amelia," she growled.
Amy swam away, watching the other kids grapple with the slippery melon through eyes blurred with both lake water and tears. When I hold back, I make things worse. When I try to reach out, I make things worse. Why am I here if I can't make a friend?
The next day was a little better, because Amy found out they'd be riding horses. Thanks to the Barksdale family stable, she'd been riding horses since she was old enough to sit in a saddle. Next to reading, it was one of her favorite things to do, especially because Rita and Helen rarely joined in.
Amy sat confidently in her saddle as her horse trotted. She was feeling happy until she saw the uneasy expression on Daria's face. "What's wrong?" she asked.
Daria grimaced. "It keeps darting forward," she grumbled. "I think it wants to throw me off."
Amy glanced at Daria's form and saw that she was gripping the horse too tightly with her legs. "You have to relax," she suggested.
"How can I relax when I'm balanced precariously on a wild animal that clearly doesn't want me here?" Daria demanded, tensing up even further.
"No, I mean--" But it was too late. Daria's knees squeezed the horse's sides and the horse shot forward down the trail. "Oh, no," Amy breathed, urging her own horse after her. She maneuvered around the others with ease, finally catching up to Daria. "Pull downward on the reins," she called, trying to help her. "Gently!"
But Daria, panicking, yanked them back, hard, and the horse abruptly reared back. Daria was thrown off its back and flew across the trail. SPLASH! She landed in the nearby river.
Amy dismounted and grabbed the other horse's reins, calming it before turning toward Daria. "Are you okay?" she asked. Daria was clutching her arm, and Amy quickly saw that it was bleeding. A lot. "Oh, no," Amy whispered. She shouted for Mr. Potts, who arrived moments later. "Daria's hurt!" she told him.
Everything after that was a confusion of shouting and rushing around. Daria was taken to the local hospital while the other kids milled around spreading rumors and theories. "I bet she tried to run away," one girl suggested. "She's been moping around ever since she got here."
"Nah, I think she screwed up," argued a boy. "Did you see her getting on the horse? Total disaster. She had no idea what she was doing."
Amy felt a pang of indignation on Daria's behalf. "She didn't mess up," she insisted loudly. "She rode off on purpose, to leave everyone behind."
"Well, that didn't work," another boy pointed out. "She got chucked off the horse and I heard that they're going to have to cut off her arm."
"What a weirdo," one girl commented with a snort. "I hope she gets sent home."
But Daria was back later that day, with nine stitches and an irritable mood. "How are you feeling?" Amy asked, rushing over the moment she saw her.
"Like my arm got ripped open and sewn back together," Daria replied with a scowl. "I told you that horse wanted to throw me, Amelia."
"Yeah, but only because--" Amy bit back a sarcastic reply. Arguing isn't going to make her like me. Changing the subject, she said, "Bummer. So, do you want to go join the others?"
Daria rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, I'd love to go face the kids who watched me humiliate myself earlier. Sounds great."
"I told everyone that you rode off on purpose," Amelia explained, hoping to ease some of her embarrassment.
"That's not what happened!" Daria shot back. "You were there; weren't you paying attention?"
"I was," Amy said. "I just meant--"
"Forget it. If anyone wants me, I'll be in the cabin, reading." She started to walk away, then turned back briefly to add, "Not that anyone wants me."
Amy wanted to call after her that it wasn't true, that she wanted Daria. I wanted a friend so badly, Amy thought with a sigh as she watched her go. So badly that the universe somehow warped itself to help me. How did I make such a mess of it?
For the rest of the week, Daria barely looked at Amy or anyone else. She grudgingly trailed along on all the activities, putting in the barest minimum of effort, and said as little as possible. Amy occasionally tried to talk to her, but every comment or question met with either sullen silence or an angry retort.
"Hey, Daria, did you see Skip trip over that tree branch?" Amy asked during another of the camp's many nature hikes. "He landed flat on his face. What a gas."
Daria didn't even look up from her book. "Don't bother me unless he cracked his head open."
Amy considered saying that cracking his head open would just reveal an empty shell but held back for fear of annoying Daria further.
"Swing your partner, then do-si-do! Wheel around and promenade!"
Amy sat on the sidelines, wondering who thought preteens would ever want to square dance. She'd reluctantly learned how to waltz, foxtrot, and cha cha at her parents' country club, but even those steps seemed hip compared to this corny garbage. She saw Daria standing a short distance away, arms crossed and glaring. She took a deep breath and walked over to her. "Where do they think we are, Hee Haw?" she asked.
Daria turned a baffled look toward her. "What the hell is--you know what, never mind." She turned her gaze back toward the dance. "Amelia, the only reason I'm here is because Quinn isn't," she said. "So you can go pick on someone else."
"Come on, Red Team!" Skip hollered, waving at his teammates to move faster. "I haven't lost a Color War yet, and I'm not about to start today! Step lively, Corporal Morgendorffer!"
"I wish we could send him over to a real war," Daria muttered, trudging at the back of the group. "See how well he'd have managed during Desert Storm."
Amy scratched her head. She didn't think Vietnam was known for its deserts or storms but asking about it would just make her sound ignorant. She forced a laugh instead. "That's funny, Daria." She wiped some sweat from her forehead and fanned herself. "If only it was a Cold War instead of a Color War," she tried. "I'd take the Soviet Union over this any day."
"The Soviet Union?" Daria rolled her eyes. "Open a book, Amelia." Somehow everything I say is the wrong thing. Sighing, Amy struggled onward as Skip continued screaming abuse at his teammates.
At last they reached the end of the camp session and the final official activity, the End-of-Summer campfire by the lake. Amy wandered around, searching for Daria but unable to find her. She must have finked out, she decided. Wish I'd decided to do the same. She settled onto a log away from most of the other kids and began to wonder when--if ever--she was going to get back home. Oh, God. What if I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life at this camp? Maybe I didn't get magically transported. Maybe I died and went to Hell.
She shivered, then edged a little closer to the fire. As she came nearer, she heard a group of girls talking and recognized one of them as Daria's sister.
"...and you should have seen Nicole's dress at the square dance, Quinn! O-M-G, sooooo fugly!"
Quinn giggled. "She got a dress to match her face!"
"Oh, snap!" All four girls laughed at that, but then one girl--Tatiana, Amy recalled, asked, "Was my dress okay?"
Another girl, Tracy, replied, "It was more than okay. It was the bomb!"
Apparently this was a compliment rather than the insult Amy took it for, because Tatiana smiled. The fourth girl, Cindy, asked Quinn, "You still haven't said where you were that night. What happened?"
Quinn's smile faded. "Uh, I wasn't feeling well so I chilled at the cabin instead. Wish I'd been there, though! I bet it was hella crunk."
"Hmph." Cindy narrowed her eyes. "You know, Alex didn't make it either. If I didn't know better I'd think you and he ran off together!" She tried to make it sound like a joke, but her face said otherwise.
"As if!" Quinn cried, forcing a chuckle. "Are you completely postal? I would never do that!"
Cindy arched an eyebrow. "Whatever."
Cindy and Quinn stared at each other for a long time, while Amy puzzled through the strange language the girls seemed to be speaking. At last, Cindy smiled a thin, fake smile and patted Quinn on the shoulder. "I know you wouldn't lie to me. Anyway, there's always next year's dance."
"Actually," Quinn said, her face turning sad. "My family is moving so we're not coming back next year."
"We?" Tatiana asked.
Quinn blushed. "Uh, you know, me and that weird cousin I have. She's not coming back either."
"That's good news, anyway," Traci giggled. "That girl is wacked!"
"Aww, we're going to miss you!" Cindy said, her voice dripping with insincerity. "You totally have to come back for the five year reunion in 2000!"
Amy stopped listening. 2000? The year 2000? In five years? Her thoughts spun. It's 1995? I traveled over twenty-five years into the future? But...why? It makes no sense!
But then a few things did start to make sense. The words that had confused her. The references Daria and others had made to things she had never heard of. Her inability to connect with anyone. Although that last one isn't new. I guess I'm a misfit in any decade.
By the time the campfire was over and Amy had returned to the cabin, her mind had settled down. She found Daria inside, reading grumpily. "Where were you?" Amy asked her, eager to tell Daria about her new revelation but afraid of sounding insane. "Why weren't you at the campfire?"
"I wasn't invited," Daria replied in a chilly tone.
"Invited?" Amy shook her head. No one had been invited, it was just an event like the others. She probably just wanted an excuse to skip it, Amy decided. It would be just like her to boycott this. "Well...good night," she said lamely, unable to think of anything to say because if she spoke too much the truth might come tumbling out by accident.
Daria just grunted in reply, and Amy went to bed. It was a restless night, as she kept trying to figure out why...whatever it was...had brought her so far not just in space but in time as well. Why here? she kept asking. Why now?
At last she slipped into a fitful sleep and woke with the other campers at dawn. She had nothing to pack, so after breakfast she just milled around near the parking lot with the other kids as they waited for their parents to come pick them up.
"Mom! Dad!" Quinn shouted, racing toward the car Amy had seen at the start of her adventure. "Camp was the best!" Daria followed slowly behind, still looking grumpy but also relieved to be leaving.
"Did you have fun, girls?" their mother asked. "Daria, did you make any friends?"
"No," Daria replied matter-of-factly, and Amy had to fight back tears.
"Come on, Helen!" the father called out. "I want to beat the rush getting out of here!"
Tears forgotten, Amy took another look at the woman she now knew was named Helen. She mentally subtracted a quarter of a decade from her age and gasped. The hair...the personality...that's not just any Helen! It's my sister!
Amy had no doubt at all that it was true. Suddenly she understood. I asked for a family member I could relate to. And then I traveled forward in time so I could meet Daria, who's my--
The air around her blurred, and Amy blinked. When she opened her eyes, she was standing in her own bedroom.
--niece.
For just a moment, Amy felt glad to be home. Then she heard Rita and Helen--the Helen she knew--still arguing in the hallway outside her room. She glanced at her clock and realized she'd been gone for only a few moments.
And what was the point? She sat down on the edge of her bed. I finally found a relative who was like me, but even she rejected me in the end.
"Slut!"
"Square!"
Sadness turned to anger, and Amy stood up. She stomped over to the door and flung it open. Rita and Helen barely glanced her way, but she raised her voice to be heard. "If you're going to scream at each other, could you at least do it somewhere else?"
"We're not screaming," Rita argued.
Helen nodded. "We're just having a...lively debate."
Amy rolled her eyes and an odd thought flashed through her mind. What would Daria do? The answer came to her immediately. "Then perhaps you could debate at a volume that won't rattle the windows."
Helen and Rita stared at her, shocked at the sarcastic response. Amy took advantage of their silence to return to her room and pick up her book. At last, she was able to read in peace.
Years passed. Rita and Helen moved out. Daria's reference to Watergate eventually made sense. Amy's memories of Camp Grizzly grew hazy, and part of her began to doubt it had even really happened. The only thing she felt she'd gained from the experience (real or imagined) was that when under stress she would ask herself what Daria would say or do in that situation. It made life more bearable but offered little comfort as Amy's loneliness only grew.
The house felt empty without her sisters, especially as Amy's parents largely ignored her unless she was doing something wrong. And even then, Amy was sure that her father wouldn't even glance up from his newspaper if she set the house on fire.
It was worse, though, when Helen and Rita came back to visit. The worst day was when they both dropped in on the same day.
Rita was sitting at the dining room table with their mother, flipping through bridal catalogs to compare bridesmaid dresses. "I just love these silk gowns," Rita sighed, "but with a winter wedding we might be better off with those thick cashmere dresses. What do you think, Mother?"
"Oh, sweetheart, whichever you prefer will be just lovely. Your father and I can afford either one."
"That reminds me. I got a quote on that lighted dance floor you promised me and--"
"Mother, I'm home!" Helen called out, slamming the front door as she entered.
Amy, curled up in an armchair in the living room, scrunched down in her seat as she braced for the inevitable explosion. She was almost 17, but being around her sisters always made her feel like a child again.
Chair legs scraped across the floor Rita pushed herself back from the table. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, marching into the front entryway.
"I have as much right to be as you do," Helen replied calmly. Her time at the hippie commune had mellowed her out, but their rivalry hadn't faded one bit. "And so does Jake."
"Ha!" Rita snorted. "What makes you think your reform school boyfriend is welcome here?"
"Military school," Jake corrected through clenched jaws.
"And he's not my boyfriend now," Helen added. "He's my fiancé."
"MOTHER!!!" Rita's screech was so loud Amy dropped her book and almost fell out of her chair. "Helen's trying to overshadow my big day!"
"Calm down, Rita. We're not getting married until next year, so no one's stealing your damn thunder."
"You're so selfish, Helen! Do you really think Mother and Father will be able to afford another big wedding so soon after mine?"
"I have no illusions that they'll pay for even one cent of our wedding," Helen shot back. "That's why we're holding a small, natural ceremony at the commune."
"With your dirty Commie friends?" Rita asked in disbelief. "I shudder to think what that will look like."
"Then don't come." Helen's tone made it clear she'd be delighted if Rita stayed away.
"When are you going to leave that awful place, anyway?" Rita demanded. "It's done nothing for your attitude, and even less for your physical appearance."
"Actually," Jake cut in cheerfully, "we're going to head out on our own shortly after the wedding."
"At last!" Rita exclaimed.
"Yes," Helen continued for him. "We're going to take the fight to The Man and take down the system from within."
"Do you even hear how insane you sound?" Rita asked with a laugh.
Amy could sense that things were going to go downhill quickly, so she grabbed her book and stood up. "If anyone wants me, I'll be in my room, reading." She started to move toward the stairs, then turned back briefly to add, "Not that anyone wants me."
She went upstairs, answered only by Rita and Helen continuing their quarrel. She collapsed onto her bed with a quiet sob, then felt a flash of deja vu as she remembered another day just like this one. Helen and Rita were holding a massive shouting match while I hid in here and waited for things to settle down. And then I wished....
Amy shivered, though it was a warm day. I had a chance to make my wish come true, and I blew it. If only I had a second chance!
A warm breeze blew through Amy's hair, and she was startled to find she was now standing outside and staring at a large banner reading, "WELCOME BACK!" She looked in every direction, recognizing the cabins in an instant.
She was back at Camp Grizzly, and by the looks of things she was just in time for the five-year reunion.
Before she had a chance to even think about what had happened, she was jostled by a tall, stocky boy handing out blue t-shirts. "Skip?" she asked in both surprise and dismay.
The boy turned around. It was, as she'd guessed, Skip Stevens. "Oh, it's you," he said, forehead wrinkling as he tried to think of her name. "Amanda, right?"
"Amy."
"No, I remember now. Amelia."
Amy decided it would be a waste of time to argue, so she just accepted a shirt from him and pulled it on over her tank top. Figures that the first person I run into here is that jerk, she thought angrily. Why couldn't it have been Daria?
With a start, Amy realized that she had no reason to think Daria would be there. She hated it here, and her family moved away years ago. Why would she be here? Why would I be here? She began to fear that the whatever-it-was that had now brought her through time and space to the camp twice had made a mistake.
If she doesn't show up, then will I be stuck here? Is there a purpose to this, or am I just the victim of some kind of random fluke? What. Is. Going. On?
Fighting back panic, she began looking around for Daria. She didn't see her at first, but then a van pulled into the parking lot and an auburn-haired girl wearing round glasses stepped out along with another girl and boy. She's barely changed at all, Amy marveled, afraid to believe her good luck. She trotted over. "Daria?" she asked. "Is that you?"
"No, I'm a decoy to flush out assassins," Daria replied in an annoyed voice. Then she sighed. "Hi, Amelia."
She's still got that sharp sense of humor, Amy thought with amusement. It was hard to comprehend that she was speaking to her own niece, but decide to set that thought aside and just look at her as a friend. And that's what we were, right? I wouldn't have been brought back otherwise, would I?
Then her relief took over and words began pouring out of her mouth unchecked. "Thank God! I was afraid you weren't coming, and then there would be no reason for me to come, because I wouldn't have anyone to talk to. What's new?"
"Hmm," the girl said with a tiny smirk. "Daria having a secret fan club is pretty new."
"Really," commented the boy.
Amy saw her chance to join in the joke. "You have a fan club?" she asked with fake obliviousness. "Cool!"
The other three ignored her. "Daria, when I met you, you said you were a big outcast who nobody liked," the girl said. "Has our whole life together been a lie?"
Daria's replaced me with new friends, Amy realized. Before she could try again, Skip blundered in with his pile of shirts. "But they didn't go here," she pointed out, indicating the boy and girl. Some petty part of her wanted Skip to kick them out, hoping that if they left then Daria might at least look at her.
Skip, predictably, began to annoy everyone in earshot, which had the unexpected benefit of driving away the newcomers. However, instead of noticing Amy, Daria just wandered away with a sour expression.
Amy followed her. I've waited five years for a second chance, and someone up there thinks I deserve one. I'm not going to waste it!
Everyone gathered around outside the camp office, where Skip and Mr. Potts were waiting. My Potts welcomed all of the former campers, then announced the beginning of a hike. Most of them, Daria included, seemed less than thrilled at the idea but Skip quickly bullied them into it.
"I wish Skip would take a hike," Daria muttered.
Amy laughed, but felt a little surprised. She's still afraid of him? Out loud she said, "You're funny, Daria. Hey, where's your t-shirt?"
"I'm not wearing it."
Amy watched the other kids trudge toward the woods for the hike. "I guess we better join them," she said, ready to stay by Daria's side and, if necessary, run interference with Skip for her.
"You go ahead," Daria replied. "I don't want to scare the other hikers with my limp."
"Hmm." Secretly, Amy was pleased. Daria had gotten over her fear of standing up to Skip, and had just suggested the very thing Amy had wanted to do. "Do you think they'd mind if I stayed here, too?" she asked casually, angling to see if Daria would mind her staying with her.
"Amelia, have you ever played Monopoly?"
Amy was startled by the non sequitur. "Of course, why?"
"You're not in camp anymore," Daria explained. "You're just visiting. Do what you want."
"Cool!" Amy replied, taking this as an invitation. "I'm staying with you."
"Great." Daria didn't sound very enthusiastic, but Amy didn't blame her. Camp Grizzly was not the ideal setting for a reunion with a friend, but what choice did she have?
Amy followed Daria to a picnic table, where Daria sat down and began to read. Amy sat down, too, and looked at the cover. The title was Blood Meridian, a book Amy had never heard of. Probably after my time, she realized, and the thought made her shudder. Weird.
Wishing she'd been able to bring a book along, Amy tried again to make conversation. Thanks to the time difference, the only safe topic was their shared time at camp. "This reminds me of the time you boycotted the End-of-Summer campfire by the lake," Amy said. "That was so cool."
"Actually, I wasn't invited," Daria reminded her.
"Oh." She still thinks it was an invitation-only event? She tried a different memory. "Remember the time you took off on your horse and left us all behind?"
Daria only looked more annoyed. "You mean the time the time the horse ran off with me on it and tossed me in the river, and I had to have nine stitches?"
Amy realized that she confused the story she'd made up for Daria's sake with the actual event. "Oh, right." She decided not to mention Daria's terrible riding skills. Okay, here's something we can both agree on. "Hey, remember that awful game with the watermelon?"
Now Daria looked furious. Amy began to remember just how miserable Daria had been at camp, and how unlikely she would be to want to reminisce about any of it. So why did she come back? A tiny hope fluttered at the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe, she came back to spend time with her. It's not like she came back to see Skip. Maybe I misunderstood. Could she really see me as a friend?
Not long after the others returned from their hike, Skip began grilling burgers. The smell of food made Amy's stomach growl, and she realized she was starving. Unsurprising. I haven't eaten in over twenty-five years.
She grabbed a plate and a bun and followed Daria to the grill. Daria took a burger, only to have it snatched back by Skip with a scornful lecture. Amy waited for Daria to stand up for herself, but she just turned and walked back to the table.
Amy approached her. "Wow, Daria," she began, prepared to ask her why she was still letting Skip push her around. Then she saw the expression on Daria's face and worked out the answer herself. "Aren't you afraid you'll make him mad?" she asked instead, hoping to encourage her to open up. Let me help, she silently begged.
"What do I care?" Daria asked in a voice that would have fooled anyone but Amy into believing she was sincere.
"Well, he is like the boss of the camp," Amy said, thinking back to their exchange five years before. Maybe I can provoke her into talking about it.
"No, he's not," Daria shot back. "He's the self-proclaimed dictator of a non-existent empire. What's really infuriating is how these artificial societies are made for these petty tyrants."
"Artificial societies?" Amy echoed, pleased by her success and eager for Daria to continue.
Daria was clearly warming to her subject. "You know, when you're forced to co-exist with people you'd never seek out on your own. Camp... school...life."
"Yeah." Amy thought about her sisters and smiled. I definitely get that. She waited, letting Daria finish her rant.
"Half these people can't stand Skip, but no one wants to be the first to challenge him and risk alienation," Daria went on. "So we follow the herd and end up leading lives of quiet desperation." Her anger finally spent, she opened her book and began reading.
Amy smiled to herself. It's like she's seen me with Rita and Helen, she thought. Then the thought occurred to her that Daria might very well have seen her interacting with her sisters as adults. She must know what I'm like as an old lady. Crazy. "At least we're not doing that, Daria," she said out loud, glad to finally find some real common ground with her friend. Daria didn't reply. "Daria?" Amy asked again. "Did you hear what I said? At least we're not following the crowd."
Daria lowered her book and stared at her. "Amelia, look at yourself."
Amy wondered if this was the setup to some kind of weird joke. "What?"
"You've been following me around since I got here."
"So?" At least she noticed I'm here this time.
"So you're right," Daria told her. "I don't want to be part of a crowd, and I don't want my own crowd, either. Why don't you go find a quiet corner somewhere and practice being an individual?"
Amy's face stung as though Daria had slapped her. She wished she had slapped her instead; this hurt a hundred times worse. In the space of a few moments a few things became very clear.
First, Amy's memories of Camp Grizzly had been way off. Daria had not seen her as a friend at all. Where Amy thought they'd found lots of things in common, Daria had just wanted to be left alone.
Second, and even worse, Daria hated her. No, she corrected. She'd have to care in order to hate me. Contempt, that's the word I'm looking for.
Almost as bad as feeling dismissed by Daria was the realization that Daria had lumped her in with everyone else. The kids who'd insulted her, talked about her behind her back, and laughed at her when she was unhappy. She never even noticed how much I tried to help her.
In an instant Amy's dismay turned to anger. "God, Daria. I was really looking forward to seeing you. I thought we were friends, but you don't like anybody!" She stood up and rushed away before Daria could see her cry. As she left, she thought she heard Daria call her name, but she didn't slow down. She kept moving until she was out of sight, then dropped to the ground and let the tears spill out with a shudder.
I wished for a family member I could relate to, she thought bitterly. I thought that was Daria, but it turns out she's no better than Helen or Rita! She could hear people singing the camp anthem in the distance. Instead of my sisters hassling me for not being enough like them, Daria's mad at me for being too much like her! I can't please anyone!
Now that she'd gotten away from the others and let herself cry, Amy began to feel calmer. But why am I trying to please them? The question popped into her head, and she couldn't think of a good answer. I always held my tongue at home, afraid of...what? Rejection? She thought about Daria's words earlier. Alienation. I didn't want to risk alienating anyone, and that includes Daria. I kept my mouth shut around her, tiptoeing around her feelings instead of speaking my mind. I learned how to snark at my sisters from her, but was that enough?
Amy rubbed her eyes with her hands, wiping away the tears. I was just mimicking her. Color commentary was fun for a while, but I need to do more. I need to start standing up for myself. She grimaced. I need to "practice being an individual."
She stood up, idly brushing a few blades of grass off her shorts. I'm done letting everyone else define who I am. Not my sisters. Not Skip. Not Daria. No one. She took a few deep breaths and began walking back toward the picnic tables. She found Skip still hogging the spotlight, droning on about his glory days at Camp Grizzly, and sat down across from Daria again.
"In seven years of being a Grizzly," he was bragging, "I never lost a war!"
"Gee, maybe I misjudged him," Daria remarked.
Amy felt like throttling her. You misjudged him? she thought angrily. How about me?
Suddenly, Amy made up her mind. She'd had it with the whole thing--camp, Skip, Daria, and pretending to be something she wasn't. I have absolutely no obligation to listen to anyone else's bullshit ever again.
Skip was busy chanting "Go Grizzlies!" when Amy marched over and snatched the microphone out of his hand.
"Hold on," she interrupted. "I want to say something."
"Hey! I'm talking!" Skip protested.
She shoved him away before he could take the microphone back. "You're always talking. Give someone else a chance!" To her surprise, a few people called out in support of her, and Skip backed down. "Since I've been coming to this camp," she began, "I've been doing whatever Skip tells me to. Even when I didn't want to or thought it was stupid."
"Hey!" Skip cut in, but he was shouted down again.
Amy continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And I never challenged him or said anything because I didn't want to risk being alienated from the group. So I learned to keep quiet, to just follow the herd, to lead a life of quiet desperation."
Skip tried to interrupt again, but the crowd only turned more vocal against him.
"But I'm not going to do that anymore!" Amy announced. "Because returning to Camp Grizzly meant renewing my acquaintance with someone special, a role model, an inspiration. Daria Morgendorffer." She could see that no one knew who she was talking about. Reluctantly she tried, "You know, the weird kid?" Recognition flashed over everyone's faces and Amy went on. "Sure, she's unpleasant, sure, she's antisocial, sure, she says whatever's on her mind without any regard for other's feelings. But at least she thinks for herself and marches to her own drummer. So from now on, I'm going to start thinking for myself, just like Daria, and I don't care if I end up like her, with no friends." She looked around and addressed whatever mysterious force had brought her there in the first place. "I don't ever want to see this stupid campground again!"
The crowd cheered, but Skip angrily grabbed the microphone away from her. "You can't just get up here and rag on Camp Grizzly! If you're not part of the team, go hang out with your loser weirdo friend!"
Amy took back the microphone. "I don't want to be a part of your team, Skip. And I don't think anyone here really does!" She pulled off her shirt. "So here's your Grizzly t-shirt back!" She thrust both the shirt and the microphone into his arms and stalked away, accompanied by cheers as the others followed her lead by removing their own shirts and throwing them at Skip.
Later, while Skip sobbed on Mr. Potts' shoulder and the other kids chatted in groups, Amy approached Daria. It had been a relief to let out all of the things she'd been holding back for five years, but now that the words had been said she worried she'd let out too much. I hadn't intended to start ranting, she thought with chagrin. "Daria?" she asked. "I wanted to apologize for dragging you into it back there. And for calling you weird. I don't really think you're--"
Daria cut her off. "No hard feelings," she said with a small smile that Amy had seen on her own face in the mirror before. She's pleased, Amy thought with mild surprise. Daria continued, "You only said what everyone else wishes they'd had the courage to say first." She glanced down at the ground, then looked at her again. "Myself included."
"I'm really glad you liked my speech, Daria," Amy replied. Then she thought back to some of the specific things she'd said. "Um, I hope I didn't hurt your feelings."
"Hey, it takes more than just words to hurt me, unless they happen to be particularly truthful words strung together in exceptionally observant sentences." Daria's eyes were friendly, and she looked at Amy with an odd expression that Amy didn't recognize at first. Then it hit her. Daria was looking at her like a friend.
Another girl approached them and spoke to them, but Amy only half-listened as she noticed the girl and boy from earlier coming over. Daria turned to talk to them, and for a moment Amy was tempted to join in the conversation. I finally made a friend, she thought. Maybe I can make more!
But then she shook her head and began walking quietly away. I already found what I was looking for, she told herself, suddenly feeling melancholy. And I won't find her again for twenty years. She started to do the math to figure out about when Daria would be born, but stopped herself quickly. What are you going to do? she asked herself. Show up the day she's born and tell Helen, "She doesn't know it yet, but she's a really good friend of mine and we go way back. Or forward, depending on your point of view.
Amy shook her head. No. I have to let Daria grow up as herself, without me hovering over her like...like...Amelia. She swallowed hard, realizing what she had to do. I have to keep my distance, at least until she's old enough to be who she is now. She has to become her own person. She kept walking, with no real destination. And so do I.
She blinked and was back in her own bedroom again. Helen and Rita were still arguing loudly downstairs. Feeling equal parts sad and hopeful, she opened her door and went out. She reached the dining room just as Helen was bringing up her Dodge Dart.
"I'd have thought all that time at the commune would have taught you not to put so much value on personal possessions!" Rita said.
"While you don't value anything," Helen shot back. "Your MG was totaled before the end of the year, if I recall!"
Amy took a moment to remind herself that, as far as they were concerned, she'd only been gone for a minute or two. "If anyone cares to remember, I still haven't gotten any car at all."
Helen and Rita looked at her as though they'd never seen her before. Amy reflected that in some ways, they hadn't.
"So if you're going to keep fighting about which of you has it worse, it might be worth thinking about which of the three of us has put up with the most aggravation around here."
"Since when have you dealt with anything?" Rita demanded. "You just retreat into your room whenever things get difficult!"
"Because even if I'd spoken up, I would have been ignored." Amy crossed her arms defiantly. "Well, you aren't going to ignore me anymore."
Rita and Helen exchanged a startled look. Amy smirked. No more passively listening to their fighting. No more smart remarks that only I pay attention to. From now on, I stand up for myself.
She silently thanked Daria for helping her learn how to take a stand. Maybe one day I'll be as much of an inspiration to her as she was to me.