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on his face. But Damon had a cut he did not know about at first, and there was a spot of blood on his collar. Besides that, he had a bruise on the back of his neck that made it look as if he had been strangled. There was no denying there had been a fight. And it was obvious who had won, considering Jeff’s extremely battered condition, but Damon spent the hour thoroughly convincing Mr. Hardt that it was Jeff that had jumped them on the trail and not the other way around.

But he didn’t even need Damon to list all the defects of Jeff’s character. The director was familiar with Jeff’s reputation for fighting in his former schools and the damage Jeff did to one particular Monroe wrestler that winter. He even knew about the arrival of Jeff’s social worker, believing every stigma that went with being a child within the ‘system’. So, when Zormna and Coach Murphy arrived at his door, the camp director already believed that Jeff was to blame.

Of course, seeing Zormna at his office two days in a row caused him to cringe. So much that he stepped outside and left the boys from Monroe inside so there would not be a confrontation.

“You, again?” he flinched as Coach Murphy stood behind her.

Coach Murphy glanced at Zormna, puzzled.

“I have bad luck,” Zormna muttered, looking skyward.

Thinking the director was recalling the clothes on the flagpole incident, Coach Murphy said, “This isn’t about the flag pole prank. This is about the boy who was jumped on the hike.”

Mr. Hardt peeked at Zormna and groaned. “The flag pole thing was you as well?”

Making a tired face, Zormna said, “Look, I just came here to stand as witness that Ja—Jeff Streigle was jumped on the hike by Damon Pikes.”

“So he says,” Mr. Hart replied.

“So I say,” Zormna snapped back. “I’m the one who found them beating him up.”

The camp director stared. “What?”

Sighing, Zormna said, “Joy Henderson and I were at the tail end of the hike. I was taking my time enjoying the scenery. Damon had passed us on the trail long before Jeff ever did. In fact, Jeff was walking not too far ahead of us…watching out for me.”

Mr. Hardt listened more intently. It felt truer than the other stuff he had heard.

“I was lagging…” Zormna shook her head. “Anyway, Joy and I heard noises in the bushes, and I went on ahead to find out what it was. And we found Damon and three other boys beating Jeff up.”

“How?”

Zormna sighed. “One was guarding the bushes, and two were holding Jeff against a tree while Damon was beating him with his fists. Joy will tell you the same exact thing.”

The director nodded for her to continue.

She said, “Joy ran for help and I…got them to leave Jeff alone.”

Mr. Hardt stared. “Is that all?”

Zormna nodded.

He sighed and then waved that she could leave. “Then you can go. I’ll talk with the boys again.”

She nodded once more.

“Uh, but when you saw them, Damon and his friends, how did they look?” he asked, peeking back to his office. “What condition were they in?”

Dryly, she replied, “The condition of complete morons.”

Coach Murphy choked on a laugh—appalled at her choice of words.

Waiving her away, Mr. Hardt dismissed her.

Zormna and Coach Murphy left.

The camp director decided to visit Jeff in the infirmary. Zormna’s story felt honest, which unsettled him. But one thing did not add up. Besides being described as ‘complete morons’, Zormna left out any mention of the damage on Damon and his two conspirators. The mention of the third, nameless conspirator watching the bushes changed the dynamic of what had happened though. And lies were being told. Besides, he still thought Jeff was guilty of at least provoking a fight.

The camp director entered the cabin, nodding to Brian Henderson who had remained behind to guard Jeff. “I need to speak with him.”

Jeff rolled over, pulling the icepack from off his face. “Mr. Hardt…”

“Day two, and I have to deal with you and that girl again. What is with you two?”

Chuckling, Jeff turned completely around to face him. “Really bad luck.”

“I’d say more like bad karma.” Mr. Hardt shook his head and pulled up a chair. He sat down. “I need to hear the story from you. And be honest. I already heard the girl’s version of the events.”

“Zormna?” Jeff cringed. “What did she say?”

“I want to hear what you say first, to see if your stories match up.” The director folded his arms.

Brian frowned, listening in from the doorway.

“Fine.” Jeff sighed, then sat up. “The gist is simple. I was climbing around this rock, through the bushes to get to the higher part of the trail when I was grabbed. They hit me several times in the head, so I was off balance, and they held me against a tree and beat me up. I could hardly see ‘em. But Damon I could hear, as he said it was for revenge for busting Jared’s knee.”

“And…?”

Moaning, Jeff said, “And…I dunno, Zormna and Joy stumbled onto it, I guess. They were behind me a bit. I told Joy to go, and she went to get help. Zormna…uh, put herself between Damon and me.”

“And that ended the fight?” Mr. Hardt snorted. “Damon stopped for a pretty girl?”

“I’m not asking you to believe it,” Jeff replied. “But Zormna can be persuasive.”

Brian snorted, envisioning the kind of persuasion Zormna would use. He had seen her tackle and pin Jeff in mud during the school Olympics the year before, and throw Darren Asher over her shoulder then put her heel at his throat just because he harassed her on her first day of school.

“Fact is,” Mr. Hardt said, “If indeed Damon had jumped you, then he would not have come out of this fight as bruised as he is.”

“How bruised is he?” Brian asked, interested.

Mr. Hardt looked back at him. “What do you mean?”

“Brian, don’t,” Jeff said.

But Brian sighed. “Sorry, man. I know it’s embarrassing, but he’s not going to believe truth unless you tell him more about Zormna.”

Jeff groaned pressing his hands over his face.

“About Zormna?” Mr. Hardt stared at them alternately. “What are you talking about? That tiny cheerleader with the crazy aunt? What does that have to do with the strangulation bruises Damon has? Huh?”

“Strangulation?” Jeff lowered his hands from his bruised face. “Has she gotten stronger?”

Brian stared. “No way.”

Mr. Hardt pulled back from them. “No. You did that to Damon. You picked a fight and got overwhelmed. That’s what happened.”

But Jeff shook his head. “That’s not what happened.”

“No way did a little cheerleader do that!” Mr. Hardt rose from his chair, understanding what they had been implying.

Jeff shook his head again. “You don’t know Zormna. I mean, come on…when the FBI came yesterday, didn’t it seem a little weird to you?”

Mr. Hardt stiffened. He peeked to Brian who stepped in.

“The FBI really were here yesterday?” Brian asked.

Jeff nodded, sighing. “Yeah.”

Brian set a hand to his head. “Ah man…”

“How many people know about…uh, that girl’s unfortunate history?” Mr. Hardt lowered his voice to a whisper.

“The grand story or the FBI following her story?” Brian asked.

Staring, Mr. Hardt cringed. “Let’s start with the grand story. What is it?”

“But before we do that,” Jeff interrupted, “Explain to him how Zormna can be persuasive.”

Brian nodded, gesturing for Mr. Hardt to stand with him near the door so he could continue to keep watch. He gave the camp director the story of the general rumor about Zormna’s great aunt first, and the rumors about her death. Then he regaled him in the story about Zormna’s unexpected arrival to Pennington, whom she was staying with, and the facts about her upbringing in an Irish military academy where Jeff and Zormna had first met. Stories of murder, kidnapping, and one crazy boy obsessed with aliens always following her went in and out of it all. But Brian finished by explaining that Zormna was what they jokingly called a super-ninja.

Mr. Hardt stared. Then he shook his head. “I can’t believe this.”

But Jeff cut in. “Look, we’re not making it up. When the FBI were here, did they tell you that Zormna was raised in a military school?”

The camp director paused. “No.”

“Well, she was,” Jeff said. “Zormna is a military officer. She is less of a cheerleader and more of a commando. Everyone in Pennington knows this.” 

Mr. Hardt rolled his eyes, turning back towards the door.

“You still don’t believe me? Ask anyone. Damon won’t tell you because he is humiliated that a girl beat him up—let alone someone as small as Zormna. And that’s why I didn’t tell you,” Jeff said. “It’s embarrassing.”

The director paused again. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He sat down on the stool, peering at Jeff’s flushed face, as the boy nodded feverishly.

“Go ask Zormna to tell her story again,” Jeff said. “No doubt she lied for me. Though it’s a first.”

Mr. Hardt cringed at the thought. To be honest, Zormna gave him the creeps. There was something haunting about her stare. And being such beautiful, angry little thing, he could actually envision her attacking those boys if they got her mad enough.

“Or tell Damon he got his butt kicked by a super-ninja,” Brian interjected, snorting. “See how he reacts.”

Huffing, the camp director decided he needed more time to think this over. He rose, nodding to both boys then left the infirmary.

The camp director returned to the lodge. Though he had left the three obviously involved boys in his office, the fourth boy had gotten off scot-free mostly because neither Joy nor Zormna nor Jeff knew him well enough to identify him. Opening the door, the director stepped inside, letting his eyes scan over the faces of Damon, Joe, and Aaron who were talking in low whispers as they sat in the chairs opposite the desk. When he entered the room, their talking immediately ceased. The clerk, who he had left to watch them, nodded then stepped out to give them privacy.

Standing up, Damon said at once, “Mr. Hardt, my father just called and—”

The director interrupted Damon, lifting his hand with reassurance. “We aren’t sending you home, Damon. And since I can’t send you home, I also can’t send Joseph and Aaron home either.”

“What about Jeff? He started the fight,” Damon said.

Mr. Hardt walked across the room and settled behind his desk, folding his hands together. “That’s not the story I get from Mr. Streigle, Miss Henderson, or from Miss Clendar.”

“What does she know?” cried Aaron, bristling as his face flushed. “She came in the last minute of the fight.”

Mr. Hart nodded, mentally noting their reactions in light of the new information Brian had given him. “I understand that. I also heard that she ended the fight.” 

Damon and the other two boys huffed loud at the idea, but even Mr. Hardt could see they also flushed with increased embarrassment.

“She didn’t end the fight. We quit because Jeff was down,” Aaron said.

Damon and Joe both nodded.

The director exhaled and tapped his fingertips rhythmically, thinking.

A light rap struck the door. Then Miss Betiford stepped into the room. Zormna followed her looking like something critically serious was on her mind.

“Yes, Miss Betiford?” Mr. Hardt answered, leaning forward with barely a glance at Zormna.

“Sorry to interrupt you, but Zormna insisted on seeing you,” Miss Betiford said.

“I tend to see a lot of her. But send her in.” The director straightened in the chair with a side-glance at the boys. To his surprise, they squirmed in their seats.

With a militaristic step, Zormna approached the desk as her cabin counselor nodded and stepped back outside. Zormna’s eyes took in the boys critically. She lifted her chin as she said to the camp director, “I came to see what you’ve decided.”

Damon and his buddies glowered back at her, almost ready to speak, though they were not sure yet what to say to her. Mr. Hardt gave them a warning look. The boys wordlessly clenched their teeth.

“Miss Clendar, the incident isn’t fully resolved. There still are a few details

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