“Who are you and what did you do with the sarcastic, intolerable version of you?” I said, taking his hand.
“There are more sides to me than that one. I just happen to like that one the best.”
I straightened to full height, surveying him in the stillness of the night. Truth be told, I did too.
“Good night, Grant,” I said, peeling myself out of my place in front of him.
“Good night,” he said, moving toward his door.
I closed the door to my side of cabin two quietly, drinking in the hum of the window unit and the wisdom in Grant’s words. If getting attached meant surviving the summer, I guess I really didn’t have a choice.
* * *
“There’s always another choice,” I said, glancing at the strangers filling my side of cabin two.
What was once a clean and organized side of cabin two was now an explosion of plastic tubs, multicolored blankets, and too many duffel bags to count.
Another camper pushed her way through the screen door, carrying two more duffels and another blanket. She tossed the blanket haphazardly on one of the two remaining beds, then dropped her duffels on the floor and stared at the girls beside her.
Short, with dirty-blond hair down to her lower back, perfectly contoured foundation, a trendy graphic T-shirt, and blue-jean cutoffs, she was me version 2.0. The version before life hit me with a sledgehammer.
Outside, the heavy metal bell clanked. Camper sign-ins were officially over, and I was already down a camper. Five fourteen-year-olds were more manageable than six. With any luck, I’d lose another two or three to sunburns and mosquito bites.
I stood, hands on my hips as I tried to muster a smile to counteract the butterflies swirling in my stomach. They couldn’t smell fear, could they?
“Welcome to camp,” I said, looking at them.
They answered me with collective grumbles.
“I’m your counselor, Alex. I just wanted to take a minute to let you know how happy—”
“Yeah, yeah. Where’s the pool?” the blonde girl said, dragging a black-and-white swimsuit from her bag. “I need some rays. Hear me?”
“The pool is closed until tomorrow,” I said, maintaining a smile. “But I’ll be happy to give you the lowdown on that later. If you want.”
“How ’bout you give us the info now and spare everyone the boring and basic welcome to camp speech,” the blonde girl said, arching a brow. “Pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say the generic crap is highly overrated.”
“Geez, Brie, at least give her five minutes to tell us what’s up,” the girl beside her said, shaking her head. This girl had shorter hair, pushed away from her scalp and pulled into a wayward pixie cut. She was makeup-less, her olive complexion accentuated by her dark hair and even darker eyes.
She tugged on the ends of her hair, leaving the strands messier. “You’ll have to get over Brie’s lack of social ability,” she said, looking at me. “She doesn’t do well with people. It has something to do with her lack of tact and basic human skills.”
“I don’t do well with people?!” Brie said. “Uh-uh. You’re the one who landed herself on house arrest for beating up that girl.”
“She was a rat,” the dark-haired girl said.
“Fair enough,” Brie said, shrugging.
“What did she rat you out on?” another girl said, studying the pair.
“Go ahead, Jess,” Brie said. “Was it a straightener you stole? Makeup? Tampons? There’ve been so many things I’ve lost track.”
“It was a watch,” Jess said, flipping her off. “And it was Michael Kors so don’t act like it wasn’t worth the punishment.”
Jess looked at me, shaking her head. “Now, if we’re done discussing my rap sheet, I would like to listen to what Alex has to say about camp. Carry on, Alex. You’re happy for what?”
“Y’all being here,” I said, feeding into the assumption of genericness Brie called me out on. I cleared my throat, straightening beneath five pairs of eyes. “I’m so excited for everyone to get to know each other.”
“You want us to get to know each other?” Brie said, grinning. “Then what? We can braid each other’s hair and trade fashion secrets?”
“Quit being a jerk,” Jess said, tossing a pillow at her.
Brie caught it before it hit her face, her black polished nails digging into the pillowcase. “Throw one more thing at me,” she said. “One more and I’ll—”
Jess threw the pillow from the bed beside her, missing Brie but hitting another girl in the process. Accident or not, the unsuspecting victim launched upright. She was hovering over Jess in 2.5 seconds, screaming.
“Come at me, Jess. Come at me.”
“Girl, you know I’d rip those fake-ass extensions out your head,” Jess said, getting in her face.
“Whoa. Whoa,” I said, moving toward them.
“Nah,” the other girl said, closing the distance. “She’s had a problem with me since we got on that bus up in Gainesville. She’s lucky she made the ride down here.”
“You’ve had a problem with me longer than that,” Jess said, fists at her side.
“Because you think you run everything!” the girl said. “You don’t run nothing but your mouth.”
“I’m ’bout to run my fists upside your head, you little—”
The girl collided with Jess hard enough to knock her into the cot. I froze for a second, the string of events playing in slo-mo as Jess bolted upright and lunged for the girl.
“No. No. No,” I said, maneuvering through the oversized plastic totes between them and me.
I tripped as Brie sprinted across the room, throwing herself into the mix. Her hand found a lock of red hair at the back of the girl’s head. She dragged the other girl backward, pulling her off Jess while I scrambled upright.
“Stop it!” I screamed, racing after them. They barreled into the screen door, landing in a heap on the front porch.
I sprinted through the opening, reaching Brie first. Her steel grip of painted fingernails stayed latched on to the other girl’s hair as she dragged her backward. I went for Brie’s fist first, peeling her fingers away.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, fire burning in her blue eyes, then hauled her other fist at my face instead.
Pain splintered its way through my jaw, blood’s coppery taste soaking my mouth as I crashed into the porch swing. Oh hell no.
I charged Brie as she returned to the fight. Almost catching her before two strong arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me back. Cedarwood and cypress flooded my senses.
“No! Let me go!” I said, struggling in Grant’s grip.
“Get them apart!” he yelled, his voice hot against my neck.
Blood soaked my chin, leaving bread crumbs on the porch as he pulled me the other way. Kira was rushing up the porch beside us, with a bulky male running up the stairs behind her. They pulled Brie out of the hustle, the guy securing her while Kira continued working on the other two. The number of counselors on the porch grew by the second, drawing more and more attention to our porch.
“I’ll get this one to the nurse,” Kira said, hauling Jess backward.
Jess ripped her arm away, burning holes in Kira with her eyes as she stormed across the dirt path. Scratch marks lined her face, mild compared to the bruises on the other girl. My hands shook at my sides. Grant’s hold was still tight as my lip burned and copper coated my tongue.
“Erica, could you take what’s left of cabin two for a bit?” he said, earning the attention of one of the girl counselors on the porch. “They can stay out here, hell they can take a tour of camp for all I care. Just don’t let them out of your sight.”
“Yeah,” the girl said, crossing the porch.
He loosened his hold once we reached the path at the bottom of the porch. “You. Me. Talk. Now,” he said.
I peeled myself away, dread curling its way through my stomach. If I turned around now, I could spare myself the inevitable lecture from Mr. Couns
elor of the Year. That would also make me a coward. Decisions.
Grant stalked all the way to the counselor cabin, unspeaking. When we reached the door, he pushed it open so hard it hit the wall behind it with a deafening crack. I followed, swiping a hand against my mouth as he faced me.
“What the hell was that?! You didn’t even make it through the first day, Alex! You didn’t even make it thirty minutes!”
“Um, it wasn’t like I asked for WWE to show up at my cabin!” I said, adrenaline wrapping its hand around my limbs. “Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t. And I’m sorry, but I’m the one who got hit. Not you!”
“Because you’re totally incapable of doing this job,” he said, his hands resting on either side of his hat. He let out a long breath, shrinking my ego even more. “You see, this is what I was worried about. Your lack of experience. Your lack of ability to assess a situation and defuse it.”
“The last time I checked, you weren’t there!” I said, frustration burning my eyes. “I was standing there, trying to introduce myself. I was doing the typical icebreaking BS I thought I was supposed to do. Then one of the girls threw a pillow and World War Three started. Who punches someone over a pillow?! Who does that?!”
Footsteps closed the distance between us. His stony expression was unwavering. “The kind of campers who come out here,” he said, shaking his head. “The ones with a chip on their shoulder and a point to prove.”
He lifted a hand, gingerly tilting my face. “And the kind who throw one hell of a left hook.” His fingers raked the space on my jaw where the hit landed. I winced and he pulled them away, his lips thinning. “You’re going to bruise.”
“Then I’ll bruise,” I said, pulling away. “I’ve had worse.”
“You’d have less, had you known how to dodge a punch.”
“I know how to dodge a punch, and I also know how to throw them.” I crossed my arms, watching him as he moved the otherside of the cabin. “You would’ve seen it, had you not stopped me before I got a shot at her.”
“You should be thanking me for that,” he said. “Hitting a camper is a one-way ticket home.”
“Then I definitely should’ve hit her,” I said, the sarcasm in my words dying away at the reality of what that choice would’ve cost. Too much money. Too much disappointment from my parents.
Grant stopped in front of the refrigerator and pulled it open. “On the plus side, and trust me when I say there’s barely a plus side, you were lucky enough to get your cabin’s fight out of the way. Those are usually reserved for the second or third week, when everyone is really getting on each other’s nerves. They’ll get to see the consequence of that fight up front. Maybe it’ll spare you from more.”
“Or maybe they’ll continue being hostile to each other and I’ll be refereeing fights every day of the week,” I said, moving toward him.
“That’s not very optimistic.”
“Yeah? Well, Jess threatened to rip the extensions out of someone’s head. Hard to stay positive when you don’t know if you’ll be next on that threat list.”
“You’re a counselor and they don’t want to go home. You’re probably safe.” He opened the pantry and grabbed a Ziploc bag, then turned and pushed the ice maker on the fridge. Ice funneled inside.
“Besides, the worst that can happen already has,” he said, handing me the bag of ice. “You got hit and that girl hit you hard.” He handed me the bag of ice, grinning. “I’ll give it to you, though. I thought you were down for the count, but no. You got back on your feet and went after her. Didn’t think you had it in you or I would’ve grabbed you quicker.”
“I told you, I don’t put up with crap from anyone,” I said, setting the ice pack against my jaw.
Cold stung my skin, while contrasting heat flooded through me at the proximity to Grant. We stared at each other, silence winding its way through us. A comfortable tension slowly settling in.
“You could’ve called for help, instead of trying to handle it on your own,” he said after a pause. “Two of us are always going to be better than one.”
“And come across as more incapable than you already think I am?” I said, pressing the bag of ice to my jaw. “No way. I’ll go down swinging before I ask you for help.”
“That stubbornness is going to get you in trouble.”
“With who? You or my campers?”
I kept the ice against my face. The tick in his jaw lay somewhere between amused and annoyed. I could say thank you and agree to ask him for help, but something about not needing him seemed to irritate him more.
“Odds are Loraine will send one of them home,” he said. “My bet is on the girl who threw the first punch. She’ll be the example.”
“Yay! Sounds like a fantastic way to start off the summer,” I said. “A camper gets kicked out and I get to go back to my cabin and pretend nothing happened. I can see the conversation now. Ignore the physical altercation, girls. Let’s move on to friendship bracelets and team bonding.”
“Ooh, don’t forget tomorrow’s yoga session,” Grant said. “That activity was created solely for cabin bonding.”
“I hate yoga with a passion,” I groaned.
Something about contorting my body in extremely uncomfortable positions seemed less than thrilling. We’d be better off with friendship bracelets.
“Then you’ll have to pretend like you love it,” he said. “Because the way you walk into an activity will set the mood for how your campers feel about it. Just like your attitude when you get back to your cabin will determine how your campers respond to you. It’s all a response to leadership.”
“Then we’re royally screwed,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You aren’t screwed unless you completely give up. Which I don’t think you’ll do. You haven’t given up so far.”
“I’ve only been here four days,” I said. “Besides, I can’t walk in there and pretend like everything is hunky-dory when everything has gone to hell. That’s a terrible plan.”
“It’s the only plan you’ve got,” he said. “You walk in there hung up on issues and they’ll feel like they’re on thin ice. Threatened. Like all of us are waiting on another mess-up so we can send them home.”
“At this point, I’m perfectly fine with them going home. Send them all home. I’ll help you co-counsel the guys, when and if you need me.”
“That’s the kind of attitude that’s going to screw you over,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “If you act like you don’t want those girls around, they’re going to rebel. The last thing you want is five of them against you. You’ll never win.”
“Four,” I said. “One of them never showed, so I was down a camper already. If I lose this girl, I’ll be down to four.”
“Which means you’ll be fighting less of an uphill battle than every other counselor here. You’re on the upswing.”
“No. I was hit with an upswing,” I said. “See the bruise.”
He stepped backward, grinning as he reached the door. “Just remember, optimism is key.”
“Optimism can suck it,” I said, following him.
Outside, camp was a ghost town. I scanned the trees, searching for campers and counselors as Grant and I walked the path to our cabin.
“Before you go in there, take a deep breath and remind yourself I’m on the other side of that wall,” he said, walking beside me. “At the end of the day I got you. Don’t feel like you can’t ask for help.”
I studied him, his features sharp beneath the shadow of his hat. Looking that handsome was a crime. More so when he was being temporarily charming.
“Thank you,” I said, looking ahead.
“You’re welcome.”
7
Challenge
The rest of day one held an eerie stillness, an unspoken warning for campers and counselors alike. That warning clung to the air as day faded to night, growing anxiety and pessimism by the minute.
After dark, my girls gathered in the cabin. Despite a day’s wo
rth of welcome to camp activities, their focus stayed on the fight. To top it off, everyone else at camp was also talking about the fight. At dinner, a full play-by-play was the most requested menu item.
I plopped onto my bed, sighing as I tugged off my tennis shoes. “What I wouldn’t do for a beer,” I groaned, tossing them on the floor. I grabbed a hoodie from the foot of my bed and tugged it over my head, putting the hood up as I relaxed against the bed’s metal headboard.
Across the room, the girls sat cross-legged on their beds. “Girl literally sat in there screaming her head off,” Brie was saying, shaking her head as she looked at Jess.
She wore a purple bruise on the right side of her face, but the majority of the damage was on the other. Fingernail marks ran across her cheeks, red against pale skin.
“Like she really thought they were going to let her come back in here when she jumped Jess,” Brie continued, grinning. “Uh, no girl. You wanted to start some beef but think you’re still allowed to stay? What is that?”
I cleared my throat, sitting upright. My nerves were riding the line between mildly anxious and full-fledged panic attack. Back home, I would’ve fled through the upstairs window. Here, that wasn’t an option.
I glanced at the girls, forcing myself to sound mellow despite being on edge. “I get that we had a kind of chaotic morning, but can we talk about something other than how Jane got suspended from camp?” I said.
“Why do we have to move on?” another camper, Steff, said. “That was, like, the best fight this camp has ever seen.”
The girls, including the fourth and arguably quietest of the quartet, Jules, had spent the hours following the fight walking around like they were the unspoken heroes of cabin two. Funny, considering two of the four were involved in starting the fight.
Jules pushed long dark hair behind her shoulders, prominent brown eyes honed on me. “Besides, it ain’t like we’ve got anything else to do,” Jules said. “Those lame activities they got up near the mess hall don’t start until tomorrow. Tonight is a free-for-all.”
Last Chance Summer Page 7
