"Cheryl!" her father shouted down the stairwell, "Let's go; I have to get to work at some point today."
The two of them rushed up the steps to collect their luggage and leave the house. As Cheryl closed the front door, Susan observed Cheryl's father waiting impatiently for them in his car, which he had already started. When they got into the vehicle he quickly sped away.
* * *
Half an hour later, Susan stood in the high school parking lot, and observed with amusement the organized mayhem surrounding her. The noise of bus motors, along with the excited chatter of the entire Grade 10 class preparing to embark for "Spirit Camp", were making it difficult for Mr. Evans, the lead teacher for this year's excursion, to make himself heard.
"OK, students, listen up!" he yelled above the din, "Drop your luggage beside the cargo bay of your assigned bus, and line up behind the counsellors."
Mr. Evans began to list off the counsellor teams for each bus, "... and I'll be using Susan and Peter on bus number 6 ..."
Susan was in a very good mood, even a little excited, as she approached the bus with the large "6" poster propped next to it. She had already felt the eyes of the dozens and dozens of immature males trying to undress her in their randy little minds, which made her smile inwardly. Not that there was much to remove as, true to her somewhat exhibitionist nature, she had used the excuse of the very warm early September day to wear a pair of white "short shorts", ones that hugged her womanly hips; as well as a sleeveless blouse that was tailored in a way that emphasized her full breasts. She had deliberately left quite a few of the top buttons on the blouse undone, so that some cleavage showed. New white sandals and a new hair style, which allowed her deep auburn tresses to flow over her shoulders in a cascade of gentle tendrils curling this way and that, gave her a more natural look; so much better, she thought, than the fake blonde tint she used to favour. The hairdresser had dyed it with something very close to her own natural shade, and she had been letting it grow.
Also gone in the summer makeover was the flashy jewellery and hot red lipstick. It was replaced with a clear pink lip gloss, some simple white earrings, and a pair of designer sunglasses that she pushed up onto the top of her head, revealing what she thought was her best feature, a pair of brown eyes. It had been very difficult to abandon her previous choices of mascara and eye shadow, because she enjoyed wearing quite a bit of makeup. But Cheryl, who had become her best friend after they roomed together at the Spirit Camp counsellor orientation at the end of June, had insisted that she "lighten up" on it unless she was getting really dressed up.
Susan had always admired Cheryl, with her slim graceful figure, fine oriental features and lovely dark eyes. She normally wore her lustrous raven hair loose, letting it flow in a shiny river down to the middle of her back; but when she did put it up, exposing her elegant neckline, she looked almost beautiful enough to be a runway model. Interestingly, as Susan had discovered, beneath that breathtaking exterior was an outgoing personality, and an impish sense of humour.
Some of the counsellors, who hadn't seen Susan since the training session, were clearly a little shocked to see this transformation of someone who had a reputation as the school slut, and who, Susan had to admit to herself ruefully, had dressed and acted accordingly. Cheryl had grinned and winked at her as they both observed the stunned reactions.
Susan waited as a group of Grade 10 students began to assemble next to she and Peter. It was fascinating in a certain way to watch how they self-organized themselves in the rigid hierarchy of young adolescents; geeky awkward guys forming into little knots, while quite a few of the less popular or shy girls clustered together. You could easily pick out the more socially adept crowd, as they formed co-ed units, talking and laughing amongst themselves in a superior way, completely aware of their infinitely higher standing in the teenage pecking order. In the middle of these strata were the majority of the students, some of whom, Susan knew, would manage to elevate themselves to membership in the top tier, a form of adolescent heaven, through a variety of means. This state of nirvana could usually be achieved through a wardrobe upgrade, accompanied by a mixture of appropriate dating, good grades and/or involvement in a suitably high status school activity such as athletics or the musical stage play.
Lounging at the end of the long line was another distinct group, made up mostly of boys, trying to look both tough and bored. They were wearing the "de rigeur" wardrobe of their sect, which mainly featured the colour black. As Susan knew from experience, any interest in academics, participation in school activities, or contact with the teenage elites could get you expelled from this club in a hurry. However, since Spirit Camp was virtually mandatory, they had to participate. When Susan had been at the camp at the beginning of her sophomore year, a couple of similar boys and one girl had somehow got so caught up in the fun that they forgot to maintain the required sullen demeanour. They were ostracized from their companions with lightning speed, which resulted in them having to revamp their entire teenage persona that semester in order to find new friends to associate with.
And finally, here and there, Susan observed, were the "loners", who didn't belong in any category, or didn't seem to have any particular circle of friends. Susan had pretty much been like that for her entire time in high school, which was now unfortunately extending an extra year.
The problem was her grades, which had hovered in the middle regions of a "C" average. It hadn't occurred to her until almost the end of her senior year that she needed to do a lot better. After all she always had passed, and you could attend the community college as long as you didn't have any mark lower than 60. However, when she applied for the copywriting program, she got a brisk rejection letter a few months later with a sharp reminder that a "B" average along with an "A" in English was the minimum requirement for acceptance. Shocked, she opened up the college syllabus, and after some searching found an appendix which listed the exceptions to the normal academic requirements; an appendix she had completely overlooked. The bad news was there in cold hard type!
Susan enjoyed writing, almost more than anything else, except perhaps boys, but that was another matter, so she was very upset and disappointed. She had selected the copywriting program because there was no chance that she could afford university in order to major in journalism. This state of affairs existed because her parents had the worst possible economic circumstances when it came to her qualifying for a government sponsored student loan. They had a bit too much income to be classed as poor, but no where near enough to pay her tuition and board, or underwrite the cost of borrowing the necessary money from a bank, especially with three other younger children in her family contributing to household costs.
Going to university, they advised her as she entered her senior year, was almost out of the question, as it meant going away from home for school, with all of the attendant costs. Susan was smart, but hardly a genius, which also meant that winning a scholarship didn't seem likely, so she just drifted along, with academic achievement far from the top of her priority list, until the nasty note from the college dropped her career plan to the ground with a resounding "thud".
After receipt of the letter, for the first time ever she had a serious discussion with a teacher, which resulted in her deciding on the so called "victory lap", a repeat of her senior year in an attempt to raise her marks sufficiently to meet the course entrance requirements. While most of the other students were spending the last few months of their senior year attending parties, cutting classes, and otherwise enjoying the euphoria accompanying a college or university admission letter; she was either locked in her bedroom, or closeted in the school library during spare, studying frantically as she tried to get as many of her courses as she could up to the necessary "B", thereby avoiding having to re-take them starting the following autumn.
Her parents, she noticed, weren't too upset at this turn of events, no doubt because it allowed the using of Susan for a lot of free mid-week babysitting for at least one more year ... yuck!
The rapid improvement in her marks over the remainder of the term did not go unnoticed. Mrs. Duncan, her English teacher, who she had made aware of her plans, asked to speak to her after school one day.
"Susan," she asked in a forthright way, "would you like to earn some extra credit towards that English mark you need?"
"How would I do that?" she replied politely. You didn't fool with Mrs. Duncan, anytime; and especially now, as she was going to be the gatekeeper of the all important English mark next fall.
"We've disqualified a few Spirit Camp counsellors for failing to keep their marks up ... happens every year. Even though you didn't apply, and certainly wouldn't be selected under normal circumstances, I could nominate you to be a replacement counsellor so that you could write an article for the school paper. What do you think?"
"Yes ... of course Mrs. Duncan ... that would be great," Susan answered, shaking a little with excitement.
"And Susan, if you do a really good job, not only will I give you extra credit, but I'll help you edit it for your writing portfolio for the copywriting course."
Susan left the classroom ecstatic, but also slightly apprehensive. Being a Spirit Camp counsellor had a ton of social status, at least in the eyes of most of the student body. Although this particular year's group would be mostly a year younger than Susan, they would have heard about her no doubt; that girl who had a "reputation". But the chance for bonus marks was simply too good to pass up, she'd have to do it, even if the other counsellors made things miserable for her.
* * *
As Peter stood beside Susan, clipboard in hand to take attendance before their bus left, he found himself more nervous than anytime else in his life! Peter didn't have any experience with girls, he'd never even been out on what would be considered a real date, and now as a Spirit Camp counsellor he was teamed up with Susan, who, while not exactly a supermodel, was certainly very, very nice to look at, and had, as some of his new buddies liked to say: "A body that just wouldn't quit!" He tried desperately not to stare at her, as if he was totally accustomed to being paired off in close proximity with a voluptuous young woman!
