A little about this:
Spoiler! :
All the same, I think I'll come back and do some spring cleaning on the idea later, so input is much appreciated. I'll try to return the favor and review a work of yours in return.
Chapter One
Tick - tick - tick - tick - tick - tick - tick - ti--
An ear-splitting ring echoed through Cabin 3. “Get up ladies, that means dress, brush hair, and for the love of Pete please deodorize!” That was Camp Counselor Vicky, and if she’d made this statement the first day of camp we probably would’ve laughed. Now, though, nobody even thought about considering the possibility of Counselor V having some sort of sense of humor. Like most of the counselors, she was a college grad with an enthusiasm level that was reaching new levels of low.
As usual, I’d gotten up an extra hour early and was already fully-clothed, and more importantly my face was fully-disguised. Not taking any risks though, I slipped on my Boston Red Sox cap and slinked into the bathroom to feign some interest in the early-morning bathroom conversations.
Honestly, I didn’t have too much interest in the fact that Lindsay and Josh were “totally hooking up!” after camp. For a second I stare into the mirror to make sure that I’m as disguised as I expected to be, and as usual I am. For a second I smile. Yeah, the baseball cap and bangs were all a precaution to covering up the one thing that could blow my cover, but beyond that they were a part of me that I could never deny. My name is always Alex, but my last name is forever changing. I can’t trust any name. All I can trust is what stays with me unwearyingly. It’s weird that somebody as typical-looking as me can find any comfort in her own reflection. Ratty brown hair, pale gray eyes, on the short side if I had to admit it. Yet my bangs and baseball cap are loyally and eternally there, my simple but effective shield. Masking the mark that makes me stand out from the rest. Besides this, I had one item that I truly cared about: I pulled the silver chain around my throat to reveal the key that dangled as its centerpiece; 317 reflected backwards in the mirror.
I squirmed out from our cabin’s bathroom and made my way into the cool morning sunlight. The waning summer was almost promising, because it meant that I’d be coming back to Dad again, but in another sense it caused my stomach to tighten. How would he feel when I told him that I hadn’t found a single Misprint this time around?
No, Dad never got upset in front of me. He just hugged me and told me that it was alright, and pretty typically told me we were never risking it again, but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. We both knew what we were doing was important.
“Hey, Slick,” a voice said behind me, so close that I felt the breath roll down my neck. I sprung around in time to see a smile form on my friend Felix’s face, a wide crooked grin that I would miss when we said goodbye. ‘Slick’ was his nickname for me, ever since I’d conveniently stumbled straight into a wet-floor sign the first day here. At least he had a nickname too. “Hey Shadow,” I responded casually, as if I hadn’t completely jumped. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
Shadow rolled his eyes, and as I walked towards the mess hall he trailed me the way he always did - the inspiration for his nickname. It was funny, but after the third day of camp he’d slowly made a habit of always being by my side. It was so noticeable that just about everyone acknowledged him as Shadow five times faster than they called him Felix. But honestly I didn’t care; secretly I orbited him the same way he orbited me. And when it came down to it, I was going to miss him when we parted ways eight days from now. But after that, there would be no such thing as the Alex Wood he knew, but instead would be replaced by an Alex Banks or Thomas or whatever persona my dad fabricated. I was glad he let me keep my first name (and that was only because there was no documentation of it), but changing last names got kind of confusing. And when it came to people like Shadow, losing contact sucked.
For now I would be selfish enough to allow myself to act like there was some chance of us seeing each other when this was all over. My stomach contorted as his hand brushed mine - god, why was my single hormonal impulse suddenly multiplying into a million? Sixteen and I’d never had much interest in guys. I was too busy extirpating bad guys and saving the “rebels” of our generation. Guys weren’t even a side-hobby.
“Too close, Shadow and Alex!” Counselor V shouted from behind us, and we instantly both side-stepped in the directions opposite of each other. Becoming half of one of the infamous camp couples had not been on my itinerary. I’d have to start pushing away soon. I wasn’t here for something as pointless as a summer romance.
“So, you ready for canoeing today?” Shadow said quickly, obviously trying to compensate for the awkward moment.
“No,” I said flatly, looking at my feet. “I have hydrophobia.”
“Really?”
No. “Yeah. I mean it’s not like I don’t shower or something, but when it comes to big bays like this…” I managed a shudder and shook my head grudgingly. “Can’t do it.”
His lips contorted to a look of disappointment, and he ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Ah, that’s too bad, I was thinking we could go along with Cass. You sure you don’t want to go?”
“Yeah,” I said earnestly, even though I stared out at the bay itching to skim above the surface spotting seals as they bobbed up and eyed us curiously. “I’m sure.”
We walked without saying anything as we made our way in for breakfast. Whenever I went to any camp, I had to make up some lame excuse for not getting wet. If I lost my makeup, I would be seriously screwed. If they saw the mark above my left eye…
“Yo, Slick ‘n’ Shadow!”
We both turned around to see a guy with electric-blue eyes and dirty-blonde hair racing our way. That was Cass. His real name (we found out) is Cassidy Graham, but call him Cassidy and you’ll probably regret it. Look at him and you’d first assume tough-guy jock, a category that definitely didn’t fit me or Shadow, but the reality of Cass’s personality came not long after meeting him. Grade-A dorkaholic, master of the weird, and player of indie guitar music that was strangely magnetic. Part of the club? Most definitely.
I had to keep reminding myself to expand my horizons to everyone at camp. I needed their trust if I was going to find any Misprints. My kind don’t exactly have it written right on our foreheads.
Well, actually we do. Some of us anyway. But since it’s hidden for the sake of survival, getting people to confess this is a pretty tricky task. Thanks to the Laws of Bioethics, anyone with birth defects or impurities, or anybody who can’t make a reasonable amount of recovery from any form of disease or injury, has to be “aborted for the sake of their personal well-being.” If this is the case, you become one of us - Misprints. With babies, it sometimes took only the littlest thing to mark them, and once marked, it is law that requires your death. Thinking about it caused me to instantly run my hand towards my left eye, and the place above it where a tiny moon-shape was tattooed beneath the makeup. My blind eye. They’d given the tattoo to me the day I was born, as quickly as they discovered my lack of sight. It was the mark hospitals gave me when they decided I would be half-blind. The mark of a Misprint. A human mistake.
I’d been born unable to see from it, so I guess I’ve never considered it much of an obstacle. Yet it’s the reason that my dad barely escaped with the day-old-me alive in his arms, and inevitably it’s the reason that my dad and I still search endlessly to find my mom.
Suddenly a branch smacked me in the face. Okay, so sometimes the blind-eye thing can be a pain. “Are you okay?” Shadow asked as he tried to suppress a laugh. “Geeze, that’s like the fourth time you’ve done that. Guess that’s why we call you Slick.”
“God, lay off Shadow.” I elbowed him in the ribs as I rubbed the stinging side of my face. Even though it sometimes scared me a little when people picked up on the fact that I did that sort of thing, I tried to keep a sense of humor about it. Panicking was just a warp-speed method towards death row.
For a second I felt Shadow’s gaze hold on me. “Hey, sorry. It was just a joke. But...sometimes I wonder about you, Alex.”
My heart thudded. Trying to manage a response, I murmured, “Yeah. Me too.”
~*~
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