by Piper Rayne
“And my bra.” She winces. “I think it’s making it worse.”
She reaches under her t-shirt to unhook the back, revealing a patch of welted skin.
“Jeez, Lori,” I say, squinting at the angry patch of red skin beneath where the band of her bra hugged her body. “I’m so sorry.”
I vow to never set foot in a barn again. Even after this summer.
“I’m all right,” she says easily. The hooks break free and she slides the bra off from under her t-shirt. She quickly folds it up with her shorts and sets the bundle on the floor.
She practically falls into bed and I pull the covers up.
“Thank you,” she says.
I caress her silky hair. “You’re welcome.” I plant a soft kiss on her forehead. “Annika should be here pretty soon, but if you need anything, call me.”
She yawns again. “You are so sweet.”
I flash her a smile, then stand. It’s surprisingly difficult to turn away from her. I want to stay and make sure she’s okay.
But her eyes close and her breaths deepen. I watch her for a moment longer, then force my feet to move toward the door.
I drive down the long hill, taking in the view of the river, the town, and the backdrop of the Sawtooths dark and sharp against the dusky sky. At the bridge, I stop and get out to watch the water rush by and drink in the cold mineral mist, but it doesn’t help shake the feeling that I’m caught in a dangerous current, heading for the falls.
15
Lori
I double check all the tie-downs on the Opti sailboats one last time before walking down the dock, the strengthening afternoon wind whipping stray hairs from my braid into my face. Our program director came to tell me that we’re going to have a storm. Sure enough, as I step onto solid ground, the first fat raindrop hits my face.
My phone chirps from my back pocket. My stomach drops an inch.
“Hey mom,” I say. I’ve been meaning to call her back about my car, but, well…the Fourth of July kind of took all of my attention.
“I just have a minute before my next meeting,” she says in a rushed tone. “Jeff and I have been talking about your car situation.”
I grimace. Why does Jeff have to weigh in on everything? “My friend Annika’s older brother can fix it,” I say, triumphant for solving this problem myself. “Nine hundred dollars.”
“Is he certified?”
I slip my free hand around my middle. “I don’t know. But Annika says he can fix it.”
“Let me talk to Jeff about it.”
I huff a sigh.
“How’s camp?” she asks.
I blink in surprise. She was against my left turn to come to Idaho. In the end, my dad went to bat for me. “It’s great.”
“I hope you haven’t been too distracted to study,” she says in that warning tone.
My gut tightens. Distracted? Or having fun for once? I wish I could tell my mom about Caleb. I wish we had that kind of relationship. But somewhere along the way I stopped sharing things like that with her.
“Of course,” I say, making a mental note to review my plus-que-parfait tense in my free time tonight. If I want to test out of French 101 at Stanford, I can’t slack off.
“Gotta run, sweetie, love you,” she says.
A text buzzes my phone as I say goodbye.
Caleb. My skin jumps.
Despite his threat to come visit me at night, we haven’t seen each other since he tucked me into bed after the fair. I’ve had a staff meeting, he had to repair several boats, I had a sick camper and needed to stay with her, he pulled an all-nighter fighting a house fire.
Caleb: Ready to play ball tomorrow?
Me: Can’t we make out instead? We only have five more weeks
He’s texted me every night—some of our banter getting downright steamy. It’s thrilling and sexy, but I still don’t know what we’re doing, exactly. Yes, we’ve made our little pact but I’m starting to feel out of control. Like any minute I’m going to trigger an avalanche that’ll bury me.
He keeps teasing me about our “deadline”—using it as an excuse to break any rule that stands in our way of spending time together.
Caleb: Making out is def on the agenda
A shiver races through me. Where are you taking me?
Caleb: I was thinking we’d start with a trip to the moon. Then maybe we’ll get you to Saturn.
Me: Saturn is 1.2 billion miles away
Caleb: And I’m going to enjoy every minute of that flight
I pause mid-step on my way up to the mess hall to laugh out loud. He’s relentless.
Caleb: Pick you up at noon
I give him a thumbs up and slide my phone into my pocket just in time to fall in with my campers, led by Annika who is bringing them from their afternoon at the craft shack.
Annika and the kids settle in at our table while I continue on for the pitchers of water waiting for us at a side table.
To my dismay, Hans is walking right toward me. His gaze zeroes in on my chest.
“Nice tits,” he says as he passes.
My mood sours instantly. I grab two pitchers and spin around, wishing for the millionth time I had been born with a different body. Girls with small boobs don’t know how good they have it.
Despite trying to avoid Hans, he seems to be finding me more often. He’s harmless, but it’s annoying. As I set the pitchers down, my gaze sweeps the room. Sure enough, Hans is watching, a haughty look in his eyes.
“Is that creep messing with you again?” Annika asks as she pours water for herself then passes it on. I haven’t told her what Hans says to me, but she knows something’s up.
“Nah,” I don’t want to draw any more attention to him or his words. They hurt enough the first time.
I go back for the platters of food and once everything is in place, we sing a short grace and dig in. Conversation and the clatter of plates and silverware fill the giant room. My kiddos are messy eaters. Half of them have food allergies or sensory issues but the cooks here do a fantastic job of taking care of them. I was blown away how good a gluten-free cinnamon roll could taste, or that enjoying lasagna without copious amounts of cheese was even possible.
After dinner, when it’s our turn, we line up at the dish window with our plates.
“Skinny dipping tonight,” Annika says under her breath. “Camp tradition. Every anniversary.”
“Have fun,” I say.
She raises her eyebrows. “You can’t miss it. If you try to skip, they throw you in.”
“Who comes after me? The skinny dipping police?”
“Usually a group of the guys,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Which I personally wouldn’t mind if it was Jessie,” she adds, her gaze sliding to over my shoulder. Carefully I look to where a tall, dark-haired guy is talking to one of his campers. I’ve talked to him a few times, he’s quiet but seems to love the kids, and I hear he looks hot on a horse.
“Maybe you can arrange that,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows.
She twitches her lips. “He wants nothing to do with me,” she says on a sigh.
“You should invite Grady,” I tease.
She gives me her flat-tire huff. “We’re just really good friends.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“So,” she says, ignoring my rub. “There’ll be a signal, and we’re all supposed to come down to the dock and jump in, then we have a big bonfire.”
“Naked?” I ask, picturing all twenty-three of us in the buff, warming our buns.
“No, silly,” she says, shaking her head.
So, at almost ten o’clock that night, I’m texting Caleb under the sheets, meanwhile waiting for this “signal.”
Caleb: Is that even safe?
Me: Why wouldn’t it be? All of us can swim.
Caleb: Because they’ll all be so stunned by your hotness they’ll drown
I suppress a giggle. Yeah right
Caleb: Seriously. I don’t like other guys seeing you naked
&nbs
p; I frown at the message. It’s adorable that he thinks this, but I’m surprised. We’re just bed buddies, right? After this summer, we’re going our separate ways.
Me: It’ll be dark
Caleb: Exactly. Just be careful, okay?
Footsteps thump toward our cabin, then there’s a tap on my window.
I send Caleb a thumbs up and throw back my covers. Annika is already on her feet. We both slide on our flip flops and grab our towels.
Outside the cabin, we break into a trot. Other counselors appear from the various trails, joining us. Banter and laughter bounce between the group. It starts to feel ridiculous—why is this exciting? But then we’re thundering down the dock in a long line. The edge of the dock is clogged with people frantically disrobing. I step over piles of discarded clothes to a bare patch of dock. After checking no one is watching me, I slide out of my shorts and lift my shirt up, then undo my bra and tug down my undies, making a small pile of everything next to my towel, then hop over the side.
Splashes mix with jeers and laughter as the water comes alive with bodies thrashing.
Someone does a cannonball and I scrunch my eyes shut.
“Brr!” someone yells.
“Pussy!” someone calls back. More laughter and splashing.
“Okay, I’m getting out,” a female voice says.
I breaststroke toward the ladder, making sure to give other swimmers space. I spot Annika, already on the dock, her slender profile outlined by the weak glow of light coming from the camp.
“You heard about the lake monster, right?” a guy in front of me says to the girl next to him.
“Shut up,” she says.
I feel a tug on my toe and yelp.
Hans surfaces. “Gotcha!”
“Quit it!” I say, and swim away from him.
When it’s my turn on the ladder, I make sure Hans isn’t behind me, then climb quickly. The mountain air gives my wet skin goose bumps. Thankfully, everyone is focused on drying off and dressing, so I hurry over to my pile and grab my towel. I dry off and tug on my underwear, then my bra.
I hear a soft groan nearby and glance to my left.
Hans is standing ten feet away, watching me.
I turn my back and finish pulling up my straps, then tug on my shorts and t-shirt. When I whip around and grab my towel, he’s still watching, his eyes hungry.
Exasperated, I shove my feet into my flip flops and hurry down the dock.
On the shore, a pair of counselors are building a fire, the wood crackling and popping, filling the air with the scent of burning pine.
“You okay?” Annika asks after I arrive at her side, breathless.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to shake off the feeling that I’ve been violated. No big deal, I tell myself. He’s just a perv.
In between jokes and laughter, I talk in a group with Annika and some of the other female counselors, most of whom she knows from working here for the last several summers or from town. They’re a lively bunch that likes to gossip. When Annika goes to use the restroom, one of the girls gives me a look.
“But you’re the real talk of the town,” she says to me. I try to remember her name. Emma? Emily?
“Me?” I squeak.
“Caleb Morgan’s never had a girlfriend,” she says, lifting her eyebrows. “What makes you so special?”
Her voice is playful; I don’t think she means any harm. “I’m not special,” I say. “And I’m not his girlfriend.”
The other girls jeer.
“I hear he’s really good in bed,” a redhead named Lindsay sighs.
Thank goodness it’s dark because they would certainly see my blush.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” another girl says.
“A girl can dream, right?” Lindsay says, turning to me. “I’ve only had a crush on him since eighth grade.”
Across the fire, I catch Hans watching me. With a silent groan, I look away.
“Crush on who?” Annika says as she returns to the group.
“Your hot brother,” Lindsay says.
“Ha!” Annika says. “You mean the same one who used to fart in my face then laugh about it? The same brother who used to make his teachers cry?”
The girls laugh, but my curiosity is peaked. “Why’d he make them cry?”
“Because he was a little punk. He’d smell weakness and eat them alive.”
The conversation shifts to everyone’s plans for their day off tomorrow. While they list their activities, my mind drifts. Where is Caleb taking me? After being apart from him for five days, I feel ready to burst from all the emotions that have built up. My core feels wound into a tight knot and butterflies roam my belly every time I think about kissing him.
“What are you baking tomorrow?” one of the girls asks Annika.
Annika’s face tightens. “I’m actually taking a break so I can take my sisters to a movie. Then to Twin Falls for some shopping.”
“That’s nice of you,” Lindsay says.
Annika shrugs. “They need more than cookies right now.”
I try to get the deeper meaning behind this, but Annika changes the subject. When the talk returns to gossip, I decide it’s time for bed, and make my goodbyes.
I’m halfway to my cabin when footsteps approach from behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle the instant I hear his voice.
“Lori,” he says.
I spin around to see Hans standing on the path, watching me with that strange look.
“Why are you avoiding me?” he asks.
I cross my arms. “Because you’re a creep.”
His shoulders tense.
“Leave me alone, Hans,” I say, and turn to go, but he grabs my arm.
I shake free of him and take a step back. That prickle on the back of my neck shivers down my spine. I realize that I’m all alone, in the dark. He could overpower me in a flash.
My eyes lock with his and I send him every ounce of aggressive energy I have.
“Girls like you always play hard to get.”
Adrenaline is pouring into my bloodstream, making my skin fizzle and my limbs feel supercharged, like I could jump into a tree or run like a cheetah.
“You don’t know anything about me, Hans.”
He smiles, but it’s cold. “I saw the way you looked at me on the dock.”
I hug myself tighter. “You mean the look that said, ‘fuck off’?”
His jaw tightens in a grimace. “You’ll come around.”
I shake my head. “Quit bothering me, or I’m telling the camp director.”
“Whatever,” he huffs, and shuffles back to the bonfire.
Feeling rattled, I storm off to my cabin, but the whole way I’m convinced he’s behind me. After I brush my teeth and climb into bed, I lay awake, listening to my slumbering campers snuffle and snore in the adjoining room.
Girls like you.
I roll to my side, my heavy breasts shifting awkwardly. When I was younger, I slept with a bra on because it was more comfortable, plus nobody ever told me to take it off. Then I went to science camp in ninth grade and learned that’s not what you do.
I know I shouldn’t let Hans’ comment bother me. Just because I have big boobs means, what, I’m easy? That I’m some kind of horndog? Ugh.
Caleb hasn’t commented on my body in any way other than to tell me how much he likes it. When I’m with him, I forget about being different. He makes me feel so incredibly good. There’s no room for anything else. I wish I can bottle that up somehow, like a magic potion, so I can feel like that always.
I reach for my phone and check the time. Eleven twenty. Maybe it’s not too late.
Me: Are you awake?
He texts back right away. How was the skinny dip?
I chew on my lip for a moment, then decide not to tell him about Hans. Something tells me it’ll only bring trouble.
Me: Cold
Caleb: Too bad I can’t warm you up
A current of electricity zooms through my bloodst
ream.
Me: Maybe you can
Caleb: Yeah?
I grin at the screen. What are you wearing?
Caleb: Nothing. You?
Me: PJs
Caleb: Like a nightie? Please say yes
I suppress a laugh. No, it’s a t-shirt and a pair of boxers
Caleb: Who’s boxers???
I laugh. He’s so cute when he’s jealous.
Me: Mine. I bought them for sleeping
Caleb: Underwear yes/no. Please say no
Me: No
Caleb: Are you wet?
My eyes go wide and I practically squeal. ???
Caleb: Check
I bite my lip. Should I be doing this—here? I glance at the phone, debating. Finally, I decide there’s no harm, and slide my hand under my boxers, past my soft curls.
Yes
Caleb: Imagine my tongue licking you slowly
I gasp in surprise. Am I really doing this? But my fingers are already moving. I part my legs slightly, parting my slick folds. Yes, I think as Caleb’s words urge me on.
Caleb: Do you know how hard I am right now?
Me: I wish I was there to help you with that
Caleb: That makes two of us. I’ll just have to imagine your sweet mouth instead
Me: Skip the part where I gag
This makes me giggle and I have to put the phone down to cover my mouth.
Caleb: Stop helping
I didn’t think I would actually get there just from texting him, but the little spark in my belly is growing fast.
Me: I’d like to do a better job next time
Caleb: You did great but if you want to practice, I won’t complain
Me: I’ve never heard you complain about anything. Why start now?
Caleb: Exactly
My fingers are moving faster, swirling up and around where I’m tingling. An ache is building there, driving me on.
Caleb: I have plans for you tomorrow. First, I’m going to taste you
A shudder passes through me. Oh wow. This is getting intense. If anyone ever read my texts I would die. I should definitely delete the thread later, just in case.
Caleb: Then I’m going to tease your clit until you scream
That does it. I drop the phone as my fingers take over, swirling and pinching until my hips buck. I have to clamp my lips shut to hold back my cries.
