Tug-of-War Read Online Free Page B

this at school. She’s just not the outdoorsy type.”
    Betsy was walking with us, and she smiled in a friendly way and listened to our conversation, but otherwise, she kept quiet.
    â€œWhy did she come to summer camp? She’ll be spending the whole month outdoors.”
    â€œI know. Well, this wasn’t her idea.” I told Maggie about how Devon was here against her will, and that she was mad she was missing out on a trip to Italy.
    â€œI’d pick camp over Italy any old day. What’s up with her, anyway? She acts like she’s forty-five years old. When you said a friend was coming with you this year, I didn’t expect anyone like that.”
    It was hard for me to explain everything to Maggie. Devon and I got to be friends in third grade when we both got put in the gifted program. We’d always compete to see who got the highest test scores. I’d usually beat Devon by a few points in math, but she’d win in vocabulary. We loved having these amazing debates about controversial topics. But most of all, we made each other laugh.
    I knew Maggie wasn’t exactly the intellectual type, but we still had lots in common. We liked to do all the adventurous stuff Pine Haven offered—rock climbing, rappelling, canoeing, or hiking. I was just the opposite of Devon when it came to any kind of outdoor activity. I loved it all.
    â€œI just wish you could see the Devon I know,” I told Maggie. “If she would get over being mad about beinghere, maybe she’ll lighten up. She’s funny and smart, and she’s my best friend from school. And since you’re my best friend from camp, I was hoping the two of you would be friends.”
    â€œI’ll try to buddy up with Ghosty Girl. For your sake, Chris.”
    Was it asking too much for Devon and Maggie to become friends just because they were both friends with me? Maybe. With her dark red curls, Maggie reminded me of a friendly Irish setter. She was playful and fun, like a big goofy dog. Devon, on the other hand, was like a sleek black cat who wanted to curl up on a high perch somewhere and not be bothered. If you annoyed her, she’d hiss at you and show her claws.
    I noticed that Betsy had slowly drifted away from Maggie and me as we’d been walking down the hill, and she’d caught up with Kayla, Shelby, and Laurel-Ann. I felt bad that we’d accidentally ignored her.
    Practically everyone in camp was heading toward the lake, dressed in swimsuits and carrying towels, but campers were still arriving in cars, and we stopped to help a couple of parents who were wandering around with that lost look in their eyes.
    When we finally got to the lake, we realized we weregoing to have a long wait, because crowds of girls were already lined up in small groups, ready to take their swim tests. The swim staff was busy running around with clipboards and getting everyone organized.
    Maggie and I didn’t really care, though, because it gave us a chance to talk to some more of our old friends. It was nice not to have Devon standing next to me, yawning, but I didn’t want her to feel like I’d deserted her.
    Maggie and I saw Jordan Abernathy and Molly Chapman in a group sitting on a rock. “You’re in Wayward’s cabin, aren’t you?” Molly called to us. “You’re so lucky!” They were both really into horseback riding, which was Wayward’s activity.
    Whitney Carrington, a prissy girl I could hardly stand, walked up to us. “Something horrible just happened. Someone almost drowned. Alex Coleman, the swimming counselor, saved her life.”
    â€œOh, darn! We missed all the fun!” moaned Maggie.
    â€œI doubt anyone came close to drowning,” I told her.
    â€œWell, this new girl started swimming, but then she got tired, so Alex had to pull her out,” Whitney insisted.
    â€œCan Devon swim?” asked Maggie.
    â€œOf course,” I said. “She’s