When Nature Calls, Hang Up! Page 2

  He squinted as he looked up at her. “Is that you, Mom?”

  “I’m serious. Don’t you think you’ve done a lot of stuff this year you never thought you would?”

  He took a deep breath. It was true that he’d managed to put Corey Long in his place several times. He’d overcome his fear of speaking in front of people to help Libby win class president. And he’d managed to help run a famous designer out of town. So, yeah, maybe Libby had a point. But he never thought he’d have to apply any of these skills to the outdoors. “I can’t do it, Libby. I’d rather focus on avoiding all difficult situations. That’s probably a better use of my time.”

  Libby shrugged. “I hope you change your mind.” She turned to head back to her desk.

  “But I’ll help you with planning the social,” he called out after her.

  “Thanks,” she said as she sat down in her seat.

  Trevor hoped he wasn’t being unreasonable. He just figured he could learn a whole lot more about nature by writing a five-page report about it.

  Paragraphs.

  Descriptive words.

  Well-placed commas.

  That’s how he wanted to experience the outdoors.

  And it was this argument that he planned to share with the school counselor, Miss Plimp. He pulled out the slip in his pocket to double-check what time he was supposed to meet with her. It read, “Make sure you’re not late, late, late! So our meeting can be great, great, great!”

  Trevor figured he should get there a little early since there would probably be a lot of students in line giving excuses for why they couldn’t go on the trip.

  Trevor didn’t understand what type of person would actually LOOK FORWARD to sleeping in the woods with vicious woodland creatures all around. All with the possibility of not having nightly hot chocolate.

  Who would want to do such a thing? Trevor wondered.

  But then the answer hit him. There was one person who would be looking forward to every minute of this trip.

  Marty Nelson.

  ME. I’m pretty sure they have this trip every year for me. In my honor, I guess. It’s the one thing I look forward to. This and Christmas, when I get tons of new hiking gear as gifts. This past year my mom got me a new Junior Survivor camouflage vest. Hopefully it will help me get closer to some wildlife. I’ve been collecting box tops from my cereal so I can win a deck of vintage trading cards with animal facts. But seeing animals up close—IN PERSON—would be better than any card. Though the badger card is pretty rare—a collector’s item.

  But hopefully I’ll spot a raccoon or a skunk or an opossum, or any other type of nocturnal animal, really. Nocturnal animals rock. Since the bathrooms are down the trail from our cabins and I have “middle of the night” issues, I’ll be sure to spot a creature in the night.

  [leans in closer, lowers voice]

  But what I want to see most is a regular daytime animal…a deer. My plan is to spot a deer close to our cabin and then grab Cindy by the hand and say, “Look! A deer!”

  Cindy thinks deer are supercute. This could be a big moment for me.

  Yeah, I’m excited about this trip. Who WOULDN’T be excited?

  ME. I’m not excited about this trip ONE BIT. All that dirt and wildlife and…air. SO BORING. I mean, that’s what Netflix is for. To watch this stuff in movies so we don’t have to deal with it in person.

  I’m sure there are other people out there like me—people who have no desire to go on an overnight camping trip.

  We all have our reasons.

  My dad once tried to take me camping. By the time he’d packed the bug spray, sunscreen, allergy medicine, Bactine, and poison oak repellent, he was exhausted and had to take a nap. When he woke up, it was too late to go.

  In my opinion, anything that requires so much preparation that it brings on a nap should be illegal.

  Like I said, watching movies is the only solution here.

  My hair. That’s the reason why I don’t want to go. Vice Principal Decker sent home a list of items we can’t bring, but it was mailed only to me. The guy went out of his way to make sure I didn’t break the rules, simply because my brother did. But we’re different people! So rude, man.

  Oh, and at the top of that list? HAIR GEL.

  It’s like he wrote that just for me.

  But without any gel, my hair is going to be…

  [shakes his head and starts to walk off]

  So embarrassing. I can’t talk about this anymore.

  TREVOR KNOCKED SOFTLY ON THE office door. “Miss Plimp? I have an appointment.”

  She was busy in the corner, carefully grouping her cat bobbleheads by color. “Orange tabby cats go here,” she said under her breath, then looked up and noticed Trevor peeking in through the door. “Have a seat, dear. Be with you in a moment!” She turned back to her project. “Let’s see…black-and-white tuxedo cats go here…all black go here…aaaaand done.” She spun around to face Trevor, her hands clasped together as if something thrilling was about to happen.

  For Miss Plimp, any time a student came to her for an appointment was an exciting moment. Too much of her day was spent organizing standardized tests, filing papers, and hunting down her missing coffee cup. Plus, there were all the cat decorations she had to manage—her job was exhausting!

  But when a student needed to talk, she bubbled with excitement. She sat down across from Trevor and gave him her best enthusiastic smile. “You said you wanted to talk to me about the upcoming trip. You must be looking forward to—”

  “I can’t go.”

  “—fishing and hiking and trust exercises like—”

  “I’m allergic to eighth graders.”

  “—falling backward into the arms of people you don’t know and—”

  “I’m also allergic to trust.”

  “—telling ghost stories around the campfire.” She took a breath and tilted her head. “Did you just say you’re allergic to trust? I don’t believe that’s in your permanent record.” She started flipping through his file.

  “It’s not in there, Miss Plimp.” He sat up on the edge of his seat. “I just have a feeling that putting me near anything that could turn into a humiliating situation is a bad idea. And stuff like campfires and rivers and bats and camp bathrooms just scream humiliation.”

  She smiled as if everything he’d just said was adorable—like a three-year old with a lisp. “Aww, Trevor. You’ll do just fine.” She hopped up and patted him on the back as she motioned for him to leave. “There’s a reason why we take you kids on this trip. There’s a lot you’ll gain from it—just trust the process.”

  “I’d rather trust the process of not leaving my house, thanks.”

  “I have so many great activities planned; there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll even come sit by you at every single meal.”

  He swallowed hard.

  Oh, no. She’s going to be my meal buddy?

  Trevor decided right then and there that Miss Plimp was the wrong person to help him get out of this trip. After all these months of trying to get out of it, his final attempt was a bust.

  “Want me to sign you up to lead our game of Trust Charades?” she asked. “The best way to deal with fear is to face it, you know. You could become a leader, Trevor!”

  “No, no! I’m fine.” He held his hands up and backed away slowly. “I can handle my fears. No need to put me in charge of anything. Thanks, Miss Plimp!” He turned and ran out of her office.

  At the end of the hall, he stopped and leaned against a wall to catch his breath. He had to go talk to someone else about this. The longer he talked to Miss Plimp, the closer he got to being put in charge of a game of Respect Limbo.

  Down the hall, he noticed Vice Principal Decker heading into his office with his arms loaded with boxes of Band-Aids. This gave Trevor an idea.

  He marched up to Vice Principal Decker’s office door and knocked as he whisper-yelled through the crack in the door. “Can I speak with you, Vice Principal Decker?”


  Mr. Decker opened the door slowly and looked Trevor up and down. “Are you trying to get out of the trip, too?”

  Trevor nodded. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.”

  Decker opened the door and motioned to the only available chair—the rest were smothered with first aid items. “Have a seat.”

  Trevor sank into the chair and noticed the seat was still warm, obviously from the last student who had tried to get out of the trip. “Um, sir. I really need to stay behind. I have a fear of embarrassing situations.”

  Decker sat rigidly behind his desk and peered over a stack of permission slips. He shook his head. “Being embarrassed is not a good enough reason.”

  “Okay. I have an allergy to bugs.” Trevor couldn’t believe he had brought up this old excuse—a classic.

  Decker narrowed his eyes. “Which bugs?”

  Trevor crossed his legs and got comfortable. If he could think of a specific kind of bug, this just might work! “Bees, sir.”

  “We have first aid for that. What else?” Decker anxiously tapped his pen on his desk.

  “You know, the kind that fly. And bite. And breathe air. Also, I’m even allergic to bugs that don’t breathe at all.” Trevor bit his lip as he thought through that one. He wasn’t even sure if bugs did breathe air. Did they have little lungs? These were the kinds of questions that often popped up in Trevor’s mind at inappropriate times.

  Decker stood up. “Trevor, a fear of bugs—dead or alive—is not a good enough reason. Head back to class.”

  “But, sir. You said there was someone else who tried to get out of the trip. My seat was warm, so I know I wasn’t the only one. How’d they get out of it?”

  “Corey won’t go without special permission to use hair gel, and Molly doesn’t like oxygen. I said no to both of them. So pack your bags. You’re going on this trip.”

  Trevor dropped his head and shuffled out of Decker’s office. “Sorry to be a bother, sir.”

  Decker reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. “Give it a chance. You might just find this trip to be the best thing you’ve ever done.”

  “I seriously doubt it. But you’re very good at optimism, sir.”

  As Trevor shuffled back to class, he thought about what Decker had said. Was it possible that he was right? That this trip would turn out to be one of the best things he’d ever done? He couldn’t help but think of all of the humiliating situations he might face—hawks, caves, rivers, mud, dining halls, the need for bug spray—but then he imagined himself actually handling those situations without fear. Or worry. Or sweat stains.

  Just as Trevor arrived at class, all that positive daydreaming came to a halt. The intercom crackled, and Vice Principal Decker’s voice boomed through the school.

  “Students, I have an announcement. Our counselor has an important update for our upcoming overnight trip. Miss Plimp? Would you like to take the microphone and explain?”

  In the background, Miss Plimp could be heard squealing with excitement. She grabbed the microphone and blurted, “Okay, Westside! We are going to try something new this year. I’m going to pair you up with a Sensitivity Buddy!” She squealed again and even clapped. “Your job throughout the trip is to compliment your buddy as much as possible. For example, Mr. Decker?”

  A faint “yes” could be heard in the background.

  “I like the way you organized the first aid kits.”

  He cleared his throat. “Really? Because it’s still a jumbled mess, and I haven’t had time to—”

  There was the muffled sound of Miss Plimp cupping her hand over the microphone as she said to him, “Just say thank you and compliment me. We are modeling this for the students. On the all-school intercom.”

  “Yes, yes…” His voice sounded hurried and nervous. She uncovered the microphone, and Decker boldly stated, “You, Miss Plimp, have…great…handwriting.”

  There was a silent, awkward pause.

  Miss Plimp then leaned into the microphone and continued. “I put a lot of thought into who will be partnered together, and I have no doubt it will be a positive experience. The pairings are now tacked up in the hallway, so stop by and check out who your buddy will be. No switching!”

  The class groaned. Trevor bypassed the groaning and went directly to flopping his head on the desk. If his partner wasn’t Libby or Molly, he knew this could easily turn into a disaster. But Miss Plimp did say she put a lot of thought into partnering people. Since Miss Plimp now knew all about his fear of trust, she’d surely pair him up with a good friend.

  Surely.

  “Now, let’s make this the most complimentary trip yet, Westside!” Miss Plimp gave a happy clap, then turned off the intercom.

  The bell rang, and Trevor fought the crowds to get a glimpse of the posters taped up in the hallway. He scanned for his name.

  Trevor Jones, Trevor Jones…aha! He spotted his name. Then he traced the line with his finger, following it all the way across to find out who his buddy would be.

  And he could do only one thing: his famous locker face-plant.

  Corey Long. He’s my buddy. Can you believe his name and the word buddy are being used in such close proximity? Because I have no idea WHAT HE IS. Sometimes he acts like a friend, and sometimes he acts like I’m his prey—he’s the hawk; I’m the mouse.

  Hold on. I need to breathe deeply into this paper lunch bag.

  [hyperventilates some more]

  Whoa. I’m a little dizzy now. But all that breathing gave me an idea. I could fake a highly contagious disease. I’m sure I still have some leftover Halloween costume makeup. That’s not weird.

  Wait.

  It totally is.

  [goes back to hyperventilating in the bag]

  I can’t believe I’m going to have to give Corey compliments. What could I possibly say?

  “You’re doing a great job of tripping me on this hike!”

  or

  “Wow, you have successfully lowered my self-esteem!”

  or

  Oh, forget it. I have to find a way out of this trip, plain and simple.

  A highly contagious disease may be my only hope.

  I got Molly Decker for a partner. I think I’m okay with this. Or maybe not.

  [nervously taps pen on her clipboard]

  See, Molly and I have been getting along quite well lately. She helped me out during the school-makeover debacle. She volunteered to get signatures so we could get that rude interior designer out of the school. AND Molly can totally keep up with me when I power walk.

  These are all good things.

  But there is one thing about Molly that hasn’t changed: she’s opinionated. Like…severely.

  The girl lets you know EXACTLY what she’s thinking. And sometimes her opinions hurt. One time she called one of the school dances I planned “a total snore.”

  Ouch.

  And then there was the time she became my campaign manager for student council president, and she changed my slogan to “Vote for Libby, or Whatever.”

  Oh, and let’s not forget all the times she pulled her hoodie over her head and pretended not to EXIST.

  But then again, if I do have a very important decision to make on this trip—and I’m guessing I will—Molly is the perfect person to tell me her thoughts. Unfiltered, borderline hurtful advice might be EXACTLY what I need.

  This could work!

  I heart this day so much! Even if Princess Kate walked in tomorrow to present me with the royal unicorn, TODAY WOULD STILL BE BETTER!

  Miss Plimp paired me with Savannah Maxwell. Yep. Savannah More-Perfect-Than-the-Queen Maxwell. She’s the eighth grade class president and has the BEST personality along with the BEST collection of knee-high boots. I will learn soooo much from her! I am about to make Savannah Maxwell my personal mentor!

  Even if Princess Kate brought me a lifetime supply of Hubba Bubba Strawberry Watermelon gum, and even if that gum was in the trunk of a brand-new pink convertible, and even if that convertible had all the
One Direction band members sitting in it…TODAY WOULD STILL BE A BETTER DAY!!

  [leans in, looks left and right]

  Now, don’t tell anyone, but there’s still one last issue to deal with before this trip. It’s BIG, you guys.

  Lucy. My kitty. She’s just too cute to leave behind. We’ve never spent the night apart from each other, and I’m worried she’ll have an emotional kitty-cat breakdown.

  [gives a sneaky smile]

  But don’t worry…I have a plan.

  My partner?

  [shrugs his shoulders]

  Didn’t even look.

  M…M…Marty.

  Marty Nelson is my—

  [leans over, takes a deep breath]

  He’s my Sensitivity Buddy. That dude could squash me with his big toe. Maybe even his pinkie toe.

  And I hear the guy is some sort of ninja survivalist. He probably won’t even sleep in a regular cabin. He’ll probably be suspended in the air on a rock face overlooking a waterfall.

  But whatever. I’m not scared of him.

  [bends over again]

  Never mind. I’m scared of him.

  TREVOR FELT THE HIGHLY-CONTAGIOUS-DISEASE excuse might just work, but he wanted a second opinion.

  At lunchtime, he spotted Molly in the far corner hunched over her lunch tray as she pushed corn around with her fork. He rushed over and slid into the seat across from her.

  “Molly, I have to find a way to get out of the trip.”

  “I already tried every excuse to get out of it.” Molly flicked her eyes up at him. “Trust me—he won’t change his mind.”

  Then suddenly—for no clear reason at all—a smile started to form on Molly’s face. It was super small, but with Molly any smile was a rare occurrence.

  She scooched to the edge of her seat. “Look, we’ll both be there. And that’s the only reason I’m…” Molly paused.