“Clapping makes my hands itch,” she replied.

“Then stop clapping.”

But when Karly gave Jake a certificate that said Best Photograph, Frankie clapped anyway, itchy hands or not.

Izzy got Most Resourceful; Karly had liked his found art superhero a lot.

Mine came last, after Jasmine and Axl and the sixteen other kids I knew by name but not well enough to talk about over dinner.

“And the last award goes to a camper who’s not from around these parts,” Karly said into the mic, making a few of the adults chuckle, I wasn’t sure why. Frankie elbowed me as if I hadn’t already figured out that Karly was talking about me. “We’re lucky that Tess Harper was with us this summer all the way from Washington.” I heard someone snicker and didn’t have to look to know it was Jackie. “And we sincerely hope she’ll come back next year.”

“Yeah we do!” Girl Sam shouted.

“You’d better come back!” Jasmine chimed in, beaming at me. Axl was nodding next to her, giving me a double thumbs-up. They were such a cute couple.

Were Izzy and I a couple?

I met his gaze, and my cheeks burned hotter than they already had.

“In the meantime,” Karly went on, “Tess can remember us with this award for her special piece, which she titled Lost Girl. I hope everyone had the chance to see it tonight, because it’s magnificent.” People clapped, and over them, practically shouting into the mic, Karly said, “Tess, come get your award for the Best Overall Work!”

“You won,” Frankie said; I couldn’t tell if she was impressed.

“I didn’t win,” I said. “Everyone got awards.”

“You got the best one.”

Karly was waving me up, and my mom nudged me from behind. I worked my way through the applauding crowd, feeling equally humiliated by the attention and proud of myself for finding my way back to drawing.

I took the certificate that Karly had probably printed at home this morning. My name was spelled Tess Hatper and there was clip art of an easel, a cartoon painter, and a cartoon sculptor chiseling the word CONGRATS.

“Thank you,” I told Karly, loving the certificate and its silliness.

“It’s well deserved,” she said, beaming. “You’re very talented. Keep it up, okay?”

“I will,” I said, turning back to where my family was standing, letting them surround me in a monster hug, everyone except Kennedy, who I hadn’t seen in hours, and Frankie, of course.

At midnight, Frankie’s voice cut through the dark bunk room.

“It’s driving me crazy,” she said.

“Frankie, shh!” I said. “You’ll wake up Kennedy.” Frankie didn’t say anything for a few seconds; we both listened to make sure our cousin’s snores were steady.