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the outer edge and maybe he won’t notice you.”
    “I don’t think this is necessary,” I said. “He wasn’t that mad. I’ve been in bigger fights.”
    “Yeah, you looked like you were handling yourself just fine,” Rylee said sarcastically. “If you want to take your chances, go ahead. I don’t care. Go stand beside him and hold his hand for all I care.”
    I quickly decided it wasn’t the smartest move to alienate the one person who’d talked to me. If the kids on my bus were any indication, Camp Friendship seemed, ironically, like the least likely place to make friends. “Nah, you’re right,” I said. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Do you really think I should go over and hold Chase’s hand?”
    She laughed. “Yeah, you should. Maybe he’s so mean because he didn’t get enough hugs as a baby.”
    “That’s just what I was thinking,” I said.
    She laughed again and then came to an abrupt stop. She pointed at my chest. “Just so you know, I’m not your friend, or your asset. Don’t try to make me one. This isn’t a Level One camp. I earned my spot.”
    Huh? I stood there, staring dumbly back at her, trying to make sense of what she’d said. I couldn’t.
    She glared at me for another moment and then smiled. “Now c’mon. If they call my name for Delta, I want to be there.”
    We rounded another cabin and came up on a large soccer field. There had to be at least two hundred campers crammed together on the field and dozens of others standing on the sidelines. Rylee and I wove through the mob until we were standing near the front, but on the far left of the group.
    Mr. Smith and Mr. Dalson stood side by side on a large platform in front of us, and a row of stern-faced adults stood behind them. Dalson looked relaxed and even had a half smile, which put me at ease a bit. The others, including Mr. Smith, looked like angry gym teachers who were looking forward to tormenting a fresh batch of students.
    “Welcome to Camp Friendship.” Dalson spoke in the same friendly tone he’d used in the parking lot, and he paced casually along the front of the platform. “I see a few new faces and would like to extend a special welcome to you. Delta selections for this year were scheduled to begin after Week One, but we had a bit of luck this morning with our temporary accreditation.” He drew in a breath and held it while he cast his gaze over the crowd. “As such, Delta selections will begin . . . immediately.”
    Rylee drew in a quick breath and chewed her lip. Whatever it was to be a Delta, she wanted it. Bad.
    “I want to be clear,” Dalson continued, “that even though we might have temporary accreditation and not be under the same scrutiny as we had expected, surprise visits are always a possibility. I expect you all to follow proper protocol and remain proper campers at all times.”
    Campers sounded like a code word. I glanced at the people around me, but none of them seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care. This was one strange place.
    “Let’s not waste any time,” he added. He gestured behind him at the line of adults. “You’ll get to know most of these counselors during your stay, and your team counselors will introduce themselves at some point before competitions begin.” He turned to Mr. Smith and nodded.
    Mr. Smith took a step forward. When he spoke it was in stark contrast to Mr. Dalson’s friendly tone. “This year,” he began, “we will have five Delta teams.”
    “Five?” Rylee muttered. “Last camp I went to only had four.” She looked straight ahead when she spoke. I figured she was probably talking to herself. I really hoped she would be picked to be a Delta. She could have my spot. Maybe I’d misunderstood what Dalson and Smith had said in the parking lot. Maybe I was worried about nothing.
    While Rylee chewed on her lip and stood on her tiptoes to see over the couple kids in front of us, I took a second to study the faces of the other kids