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Authors: Melissa J. Morgan

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BOOK: Politically Incorrect
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But try as she might, Chelsea couldn’t snatch Paris up in time and watched helplessly as she ran underneath the large banner that read WELCOME TO CAMP WALLA WALLA’S GREEN FESTIVAL and into the large crowd of festival-goers.
“Watch out! Coming through!” Chelsea shouted as Paris wove in between the legs of unsuspecting adults and children.
Her heart beating one hundred miles a minute, Chelsea kept up the mad dash, even when she had to push through a crowd of locals who were eating grilled corn on the cob.
“Excuse me! Pardon me!” she yelled, tailing Paris as she darted below picnic tables.
Chelsea nearly collided headfirst with Dr. Steve, who she noticed was wearing a blue ribbon on his vest for some reason.
“Chelsea? What on earth are you up to?” he called after her.
“Can’t talk now!” Chelsea screamed back at him.
Paris made a quick beeline for the hill at the end of the promenade, and Chelsea didn’t slow her pace, even though she was exhausted. Her leg muscles ached as she followed Paris up the hill and down a trail that led to the low-ropes course. Chelsea felt cramps form at both her sides, and she was certain she’d have to quit if they didn’t go away.
Luckily for her, Paris stopped in her tracks once she came to the horse stables, which were located at the bottom of the hill. As Chelsea caught her breath at the top, she looked down and saw Paris licking the face of her owner, Tricia, who was flanked by her bodyguard, Shepard.
Chelsea descended the hill slowly, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her T-shirt. She was nervous to approach Tricia looking like a mess, but frankly, her joy that Paris had stopped running outweighed any self-consciousness she felt.
“Poochie! What are you doing out here?” Tricia cooed to as she scratched her dog under its neck.
“I’m sorry, she got away from me just when I was about to take her for a walk,” Chelsea said with a timid smile.
Tricia laughed. “She’s done that to me plenty of times. Thankfully, Shepard is an expert dog catcher.”
Chelsea chuckled a bit, and so did Shepard, who apparently had had his fair share of dog pursuits.
“How come you’re not at the Green Festival?” Chelsea asked Tricia. Her big speech was coming up in a few short hours.
“I’m kind of hiding out here with Shepard,” Tricia said, still petting Paris lovingly. “What about you?”
“I’m doing the same thing,” Chelsea said, sighing. “I would have been nice and safe in the nature hut if Paris wasn’t such a rascal.”
Tricia smiled at Paris as she wagged her tail frantically, but Chelsea could see that Tricia seemed rather wistful.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you hiding?”
Tricia took a deep breath and exhaled. “You know why.”
Chelsea wracked her brain, but couldn’t figure it out. “I don’t think I do.”
“Natalie told me that she revealed my not-so-little dirty secret . . .
literally
,” Tricia said with a half grin. “There’s no need to pretend that you haven’t heard.”
Chelsea was surprised at Tricia’s reaction. It was true that Natalie had told everyone about Tricia’s bag of trash and problem with keeping her space clean, but Chelsea had been so involved in her own problems and the Green Festival that she hadn’t given it a second thought. She was pretty sure the rest of the girls felt the same way.
“Honestly, Tricia, Natalie mentioned it just to clear up a misunderstanding, but I had forgotten all about it.” Chelsea squatted down next to Paris and patted her affectionately on the head.
“Really?” Tricia said.
“Yeah, and I’m sure everyone else has, too,” Chelsea continued. “Everyone is just so excited that you’re here and that you’re going to speak today at the festival.”
Tricia looked down at her sneakers. “Actually, I’m not going to do the speech today.”
“That’s too bad,” Chelsea said sympathetically. “I know a lot of people were looking forward to it.”
“But there are a lot of people there who probably think I’m America’s biggest slob now. And I bet Natalie thinks that I’m a spoiled brat. It just hurts because I felt like I was really starting to make friends here,” Tricia confided.
“Listen, Tricia, that’s all water under the bridge. No one is going to judge you for it. I can honestly say that you are genuinely well-liked here,” Chelsea said with a sincere, warm smile. “Even by Natalie.”
“You’re not just saying that, are you?” Tricia asked.
Chelsea giggled a bit. “Would your biggest fan ever lie to you?” It suddenly occurred to Chelsea how easy it was to talk to Tricia when she wasn’t thinking of her as a celebrity, or an idol, or a potential BFF. If only she had been able to do that sooner.
Tricia let out a huge laugh. “I said it before and I’ll say it again. We just need to follow each other around 24/7!”
Chelsea was so relieved that she and Tricia were hitting it off. Sometimes friendships evolved out of the strangest of circumstances.
“I don’t know about that. I have to admit, I was so embarrassed when Natalie told you about the dreaded Oprah shirt,” Chelsea said, her cheeks flushing the lightest shade of pink.
“First of all, I heart that shirt,” Tricia said, her sassy tone back and better than ever. “Second of all, I had forgotten all about that, too.”
Chelsea threw her head back and practically guffawed. All of her worrying was over nothing. “Gee, I’m so glad that I didn’t stress about that or anything,” she said sarcastically.
Tricia joined in the laughter and Paris let out a few cheerful yelps. “So, do you feel like sitting backstage and watching a big speech?”
Chelsea smiled in gratitude, but decided to decline. “I think I’d rather sit in the front row. With all your other friends.”
About two hours later, the eco-friendly rotunda building was buzzing. All of Camp Walla Walla plus an additional hundred people were gathered together to listen to the president’s daughter talk about what kids across the country were doing for the environment. There was a hum of excitement in the air as campers and members of the surrounding community whispered to each other, wondering what Tricia was going to say.
No one was more excited than Chelsea.
“I’m so glad we got front row seats,” Priya said happily. “Aren’t you, Chelse?”
Chelsea smiled with enthusiasm. “Yeah, this is great.”
“I wonder why Tricia’s speech hasn’t started yet,” Jenna said, checking her watch.
“Yeah, the flyer said that Tricia was supposed to speak at five,” Brynn said.
“She’s probably just running late.” Chelsea’s stomach lurched a little bit. What if Tricia had changed her mind and decided not to go through with it?
“Has anyone seen Sloan? I saved her a seat,” Jordan said, tapping the seat next to him.
“I think she and Miles are helping Dr. Steve,” said David.
Priya craned her neck around and squinted out into the crowd. “Oh, wait. There she is in back.”
Chelsea turned and saw Sloan standing in the far back of the room, glancing around nervously. Her heart fluttered with anxiety. What if Sloan and Natalie never forgave her?
“I’ll get her attention!” Sarah knelt on her seat and waved both her arms in the air.
“You look ridiculous,” Brynn said.
Sarah ignored Brynn’s comment and kept on waving. Chelsea kept her focus on Sloan, who shook her head and mouthed the words, “Not now,” when she caught Sarah’s eye.
Chelsea swallowed hard.
She probably doesn’t want to sit here because of me.
“Huh, that’s really weird,” Sarah said, sitting back down in her seat. “If she’s not hanging out with Miles and Dr. Steve, then why doesn’t she want to sit with us?”
Chelsea contemplated getting up and leaving so that Sloan could join the rest of their friends. Sloan had been nice enough to ask Chelsea to cochair the Green Festival committee, and how had Chelsea repaid her? By accidentally sending an incriminating e-mail to the
National Gazette
. If the shoe were on the other foot, Chelsea would still be pretty angry, too.
“I wonder where Natalie is,” Jenna remarked.
“Yeah, I didn’t think she’d miss Tricia’s big moment,” added Brynn.
Jasmine leaned over from the row behind them and said, “She’s with Ellie, Connor, and Joanna, doing a little last-minute practicing for their skit.”
Another big pang of guilt tweaked Chelsea’s heart. It was her fault Natalie was scrambling around, preparing for a skit and missing Tricia’s event.
Forget about Sloan and Natalie never forgiving her. As the clock kept ticking, Chelsea wondered if she’d ever forgive herself.
chapter
EIGHTEEN
Sloan ducked backstage after she scanned the crowd for Natalie and Tricia. She was
thisclose
to falling apart. The rotunda building was packed and Tricia’s big speech was already supposed to start ten minutes ago. “Any sign of them out there?” Miles asked, his forehead wrinkled with worry.
“No.” Sloan was ninety percent certain she was about to throw up. “Where’s Dr. Steve?”
“I told him the mic wasn’t working, so he stepped out for a sec to find another one,” Miles replied.
“Good thinking,” Sloan said, wringing her hands. “I swear, I’m about to freak out, Miles.”
“It’ll go fine,” he said, patting her on the back.
Easy for you to say
, she thought.
I’m one heartbeat away from cardiac failure!
Thankfully, Sloan didn’t die on the spot, or throw up. Instead, she breathed a deep sigh of relief when Natalie showed up. Now they could finally get on with the show.
“I’m
so
glad you’re here,” Sloan said, her pulse slowing down to a dull roar. “Where’s Tricia?”
“I don’t know. I’ve searched everywhere and I couldn’t find her.” Natalie’s voice was tinged with anxiety.
Sloan cradled her head in her hands. “What are we going to do?” she groaned.
“I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Sloan,” Natalie replied quietly.
Sloan hung her head and covered her eyes with her hands. This was turning into a huge disaster.
“Uh . . . um . . . I guess I could deliver the speech.”
Sloan wiped a stray tear from her cheek and looked up at Miles, who was smiling sweetly at her.
“I can’t promise that I won’t stink at it, but I’ll try my best,” he added.
Sloan just couldn’t get over how supportive Miles was, and how willing he was to help others. She hadn’t thought she could like him more than she did, but she’d just been proven wrong.
“That won’t be necessary, chicas!”
Sloan swiveled her head around and spotted Tricia, looking prettier than ever. She had her hair back in a sleek, low ponytail and was wearing a beautiful—and familiar-looking—blue shirt. Her makeup was soft, yet done in a way that made her eyes really pop.
“Tricia, thank God!” Sloan said, deliriously happy.
“Where have you been? I’ve been searching high and low for you,” Natalie said.
Tricia suddenly looked a bit bashful. “Good ol’ Shep and I, like, took a teensy staycation at the horse stables. I was feeling kind of lousy. But then—”
Sloan wanted to hear more of Tricia’s story, but they were behind schedule and she could tell by the murmuring on the other side of the curtain that the audience was getting restless.
“Tricia, we have to get you onstage right away,” Sloan cut in urgently.
“Okay, you got it, girlfriend,” Tricia said without missing a beat.
Sloan exhaled deeply. She was beyond relieved now that Tricia was here. Sloan almost didn’t even care what she said to the crowd, as long as she said the word “environment” just once.
All of a sudden, the stage curtain opened and Dr. Steve stepped through.
“I fixed the mic, Miles,” he said, brushing his hands together. “You’re up.”
A curious look came over Sloan’s face as Miles walked onto the stage.
What’s going on?
Sloan, Natalie, and Tricia watched from backstage as Dr. Steve dimmed the houselights. A hush fell over the audience. Then a faint spotlight fixed on Miles, who was standing at the podium.
“Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming to the Green Festival,” Miles said, his voice shaking a bit. “I just wanted to offer a special thanks to the person who made today possible. She did a great job of organizing this event and keeping everyone in line.”
A collective chuckle emitted from the audience.
“I’d like to ask Sloan to come onstage and be recognized,” Miles said cheerily.
Sloan had to admit, she was full-on smitten with Miles at the moment. When she came onstage, she gave Miles a big hug as her friends in the front row whistled and cheered. Then she made her way to the podium. Sloan briefly locked eyes with Chelsea, who was cheering harder than anyone, but then she glanced to the back of the room just as swiftly.
Stay focused
, she told herself.
BOOK: Politically Incorrect
6.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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