Sleep came surprisingly easy last night, even with the noisy crickets outside my window (and a few creaks and groans from the cabin that had me wondering if maybe Grace Milner's ghost is real).

Today is another beautiful summer morning of clear skies and singing birds. It feels all Disney-movie as Lizzie and I walk to the mess hall for breakfast, which is ironic considering how Mean Girls it's about to get in a few minutes. 

We go through the line and get our food, and I'm admittedly a little disappointed to see that Ethan isn't behind the buffet today. Obviously it would go against my plan to catch any feelings, but a girl can still look, right?

At the end of the serving area, I turn to head to the table Lizzie and I sat at yesterday. I flinch as my tray bumps into someone, nearly sending a whole plate of eggs and bacon all over their shirt. Our trays clatter together, orange juice spilling over the rim of both of our cups. I gasp, steadying myself, watching my plate slide back to the safety of my tray in slow motion.

"I'm so..." I trail off as I look up from their blue t-shirt, finally looking at their face. Unfortunately, the next word escapes me before I can take it back. "Sorry."

Mei stares back at me, mirroring my surprised expression. My chest tightens, pulse quickening like I've just come face to face with some sort of deadly animal. On the social food chain, I guess she is a predator now. 

My head rings with questions. Mainly, why is she here? And why did the universe just put me in a position of apologizing to her? As we continue to stare, Lizzie joins my side and Rita saunters up to stand next to Mei.

"Come on Mei, let's go," she insists impatiently. "Unless you suddenly feel like slumming again."

I narrow my eyes, glaring at the two of them. Honestly, it doesn't even feel like I'm looking at the Mei I used to know. She used to wear her hair straight, now it's curled. Her eyes always used to be decorated with colorful eyeshadow, now her makeup is light and barely noticeable. And her old graphic tees and ripped jeans have been replaced by a neutral-toned wardrobe that matches Rita's. The change has happened slowly over the past two months, and I've watched as pieces of the old Mei were chipped away week after week. Now, she looks like a completely different person.

And apparently acts like one, too.

"No way," Mei replies like a slap in the face.

Despite everything, she's never made a jab at me like that. I always assumed we had some sort of unspoken understanding-- we don't like each other, but out of respect for our dead friendship, we wouldn't stoop to insulting each other. I guess I was wrong, which means may as well take the chance to let her know what I think of her new persona.

"As if I'd want to hang out with a cloned copy of Rita Wexler." I sneer, saying the name with as much disdain as possible. Two can play at this game. Or four, rather. 

"Better than hanging out with the leper of camp," Rita snaps back, looking between me and Lizzie. "I heard you got a little present delivered to your cabin yesterday."

Lizzie huffs. "Don't think I don't know it came from you just because you got some of your little minions to do it. I know better than to think you do your own dirty work."

"You of all people should know I can handle my own dirty work just fine." Rita crosses her arms and gives Lizzie a once over, a smirk growing on her face. "Maybe you forgot who was swimming with you in the lake that day?"

Lizzie stiffens beside me. My eyes widen as I slowly understand the insinuation. 

"You messed with her bathing suit?"

Rita can't hold back a proud smile. My blood boils, fists clenching automatically. Not only will she not let anyone forget what happened to Lizzie, she's the reason it happened in the first place!

My eyes shift to Mei, who's stone-faced, totally unbothered by the moral implications. Again, it's obvious it isn't just her exterior that's changed.

"Why?" Lizzie's voice wavers, her eyes pooling with tears. Thankfully, the room is too busy for anyone to be paying attention to our catfight-- although as I look around, I do spot Zack at a nearby table, his eyes continuing to flicker over to us as he picks at his breakfast, expression filled with concern.

"It's called a prank, Lizzie." Rita shrugs a shoulder, long black hair falling behind her back. "It was just a prank. You really oughtta get over it."

She turns away and Mei follows, the two of them heading to the table in the center of the room. I look to Lizzie, who's stuck in place, shell shocked.

"I can't believe it," she says, shaking her head. "I knew I sewed it right-- I mean, I knew it! But I never thought... Like, who would do something like that?"

I nod at her rambling, leading us over to our table. We sit down and she lets out a laugh of disbelief, shaking her head.

"This... is so... She is so..."

"I know."

"I'm sorry about Mei-- did you know she was here?" 

Thanks to our conversation yesterday, Lizzie already knows about what happened between us. I guess between Rita saying Mei's name and the blatant hatred we were directing at each other, it wasn't hard for Lizzie to put two and two together.

"Nope." I shake my head, stabbing at my eggs with my fork. I wish they had ended up all over Mei. "God, I can't believe them."

As if I needed more evidence that Rita is my least favorite person on planet Earth. And not only that, but now I know that Mei's brain has been totally lobotomized by her-- it's the only explanation for her ability to hang out with someone so wicked and not only not be bothered by it, but start to replicate her behavior. 

It isn't right that Rita's been able to get away with what she did to Lizzie, and it isn't fair that Mei can look me in the eye and insult me when I never did anything to her.

If today was a movie, this would be the part where Liz and I decide it's time to serve some well-deserved justice.

Like I said, two can play this game.

"Rita isn't the only one around here who can pull off a prank," I say, crossing my arms on the wooden table. "I think it's about time someone gave her a taste of her own medicine."

Liz looks surprised, then impressed. "And Mei?"

I shrug casually, as if I'm not suggesting a total revolt against the camp's head bitch and her new sidekick. "We'll make sure she gets hers, too."

Her laugh is filled with nervous, excited energy. "Are you sure we should? I mean, Rita's like, number one around here."

I nod, both because I am sure and because I know what she means. It's like that at Winsor, too, and I've had about enough of it.

Lizzie is right, though. Getting on Rita's bad side definitely won't be free of any consequences.

As I weigh the options in my head-- do nothing, or dish out some payback-- it's like I can see my summer split into two paths. The first path, the path of no revenge, looks nice enough. I spend the next six weeks hanging out with Lizzie, taking pictures, going to workshops, and ignoring Rita and Mei during all the camp activities. When I go back to school for my senior year, I'll have nothing to worry about other than Rita's usual bitchiness.

The second path is the path of justice. The path where Liz and I show Rita that she isn't all-powerful. The path where we stick up for ourselves. The path where I let Mei know she can't treat me like dirt with zero repercussions. And if we do it right, I won't have to worry about Rita's wrath when school is back in-- she'll know not to mess with me anymore.

Let's be honest: the first path never stood a chance.

▪︎▪︎▪︎ 🌻 ▪︎▪︎▪︎

Lizzie and I split up after breakfast, her heading off to her fashion design workshop, me to photography. We promise that when we meet up after, we'll have some ideas for revenge.

The photography room is bright, sunshine seeping in from the windows lining the walls, painting blocks of light onto the tiled floor. I showed up early and sat at a desk towards the front. Now, I watch as campers pile in, filling up the empty seats around me, the room coming alive with chatter. 

The white walls are decorated with posters from National Geographic and photo spreads from travel magazines-- it makes me think of Mom, and reminds me to send a quick check-in text to the group chat I have with my parents. I tell them I'm having a good time and explain what it's been like so far, but leave out the part about brainstorming for a good prank idea.

The teacher comes in right as I'm putting my phone away, starting our first class. Since we're in Photography II it's assumed we're past the basics, so she doesn't bother patronizing us with beginner information. Instead, to get a feel for our skills and taste in photography, we're asked to pick a favorite shot from our portfolio and write five hundred words about it. This elicits a few groans from the class, but they stifle their complaining when we're promised that our next lesson will involve taking pictures outside.

I pick a shot I took a few months ago for the yearbook. It's a photo of the sun rising between the two poles of the football field's goalpost, their yellow a fierce contrast to the sky of melted pinks and purples. In the foreground, football players in perfect sync are at the apex of a push-up, spread across the green, dewy field in perfect rows. It's atypical for my work because it looks so meticulous and planned out, contrasting with the natural feel that the rest of my photos have. I've tried to take similar pictures since, but they've all felt too forced.

By the time my paper is turned in and class is over, I realize I'm no closer to thinking of a way to prank Rita and Mei than I was when I came in. I hope Lizzie's had more luck, but when we meet up back at our cabin, she's just as emptyhanded as I am. The two of us head down to the lake, hoping inspiration will hit us on the way there.

"We could always ask Haru for advice," Lizzie suggests as the dirt path turns to beach. She reaches down, removing her sandals and delving her blue-painted toes into the warm sand.

As I pause to follow suit, hoping there's space to sit on the dock and put our feet in the water to cool down, a shriek draws my attention. Liz turns to look too, watching as two younger boys chase a few girls. Each boy is holding a twig in their hand and stretching it towards their screaming victims-- it takes me a second to make out why: at the end of each stick hangs a worm, dangling helplessly.

A smile grows on my face, thoughts piecing together in my head. "I don't think we'll need to," I say, drawing Lizzie's attention back to me. "I just got an idea."

She looks at me expectantly, and then I can see it click. She looks back at the worm-harassers for confirmation, and I nod, giving a single wiggle of my eyebrows.

Are you surprised Rita was behind Lizzie's wardrobe malfunction? 👙

Do you think it's smart of Delena to try to get revenge? 😈

What do you think Del's idea is? 💡

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