Ben’s forehead folded with amusement. I didn’t see what was so amusing. “As much as I’d love to spend a couple hundred hours training my best friend’s firstborn in the ways of camp counseling, I’ve got a camp to run.” Right then, a shattering sound echoed from the kitchen. “And until the day comes when it learns to run itself, it’s three full-time jobs keeping up with this place. It’s all needy like that.” Another sound spilled from the kitchen, but this one was more splitting in nature.
I cringed right along with the rest of the staff and campers. I hadn’t given much thought to how much time and effort it would take to run a several-hundred-acre camp. “Just name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
Ben was slowly making his way in the direction of the kitchen. “Tomorrow morning, seven o’clock, on the front lawn. Your first official duty as a counselor-in-training will be to help guide a couple dozen hikers up the Matterhorn.”
I swallowed. Just what had I gotten myself into? Early mornings in the summer? Dozens of hikers? Matterhorns? Oh well. Fire walking and stone throwing would have been better options than spending the whole summer trapped in a cabin with my parents.
Before Ben could disappear inside the kitchen, I shot up in my seat. “My trainer? Who am I looking for bright and early tomorrow morning?”
Ben skidded to a stop. His smile tipped a degree higher before he answered. I could have guessed the name before he said it.
“Callum. Callum O’Connor,” Ben answered. “I wanted you to learn from the best, and that’s him. Oh, and don’t take it personally if he seems a little rigid, okay? Callum’s tough on the counselors-in-training, but it’s only because he wants you guys to know your jobs from the inside out. The campers’ safety is in the hands of the counselor.”
“He didn’t seem so tough to me earlier,” I said, recalling how the Callum I’d met seemed more into joking around and laughing than getting down with the serious.
“So you two have already met?”
I nodded. “Earlier this afternoon. I found myself the unfortunate victim of a life jacket demonstration.”
Ben’s gaze wandered across the dining hall. When his eyes landed on someone, I found my gaze following. I wasn’t the only one sitting alone.
His back was to me, but it was his unruly hair that gave him away. Callum. The other two tables were almost spilling over with people, but the one he sat at remained vacant except for him.
I tried to balance the picture before me with the one I had from earlier this afternoon.
“He’s tough, but that’s what makes him great at his job.” Ben lifted his chin at Callum before his gaze flitted in my direction. “You can take him.”
I shouldn’t have slept as well as I did that night.
The mattress wasn’t exactly what pleasant dreams were made of, and Harry had always been a heavy breather when he slept. That should have kept me awake. Finding out Callum and I were going to be spending a whole heck of a lot of time together should have kept me awake. The sound of the metal roof pinging when a rainstorm rolled through should have kept me awake.
Nothing about this situation screamed peaceful night of sleep.
I hadn’t slept this well in months. Camp Kismet was screwing with me. Big-time.
When my alarm jolted me awake at five-thirty, I forced myself from bed. Not in enough time so that I could sit down for breakfast and make myself somewhat presentable for my first official day as a counselor-in-training, or C.I.T., as Harry informed me, but early enough that I could squeeze in my morning training run.
Cross-country season was only a couple of months from starting, which meant this was go time for training. I ran five days a week, and I cross-trained the other two. I didn’t do rest days. I didn’t believe in them. Taking a day off to rest was like admitting I was too weak or too lazy to get up and work for it. The other girls I went back and forth with in the top of our division didn’t believe in rest days, either.
That was what I reminded myself of as I pried myself from bed when I wanted to hit the snooze button instead. I visualized first-place rankings, college scouts, and scholarships as I tied my shoes. Once I was out the cabin door and had found my stride, I didn’t need any more reminders, warnings, or visualizations because I went on autopilot when I was running.
Instinct took over, and in those miles that followed, my mind was quiet because I knew that even though I was questioning a lot of things in life, running wasn’t one of them. I was good at it. I loved it. I felt strong when I did it and peaceful in the minutes after a hard run. For those few or many miles, my world was right.
After my run, the time on my phone read 6:45 when I bolted from the bathroom, dressed, hair wet from the shower, and shoes tied. Hustling around a rickety, old cabin so I didn’t wake anyone else was a challenge. So instead of searching the cupboards, I snagged a banana from the counter and dashed out the front door.
I’d have to get through the next five hours and six miles until lunch with nothing more than a banana. Awesome start to my first day.
The air was warmer than it had been during my run, but there was just enough chill left in the air to make me wish I’d thrown on a sweatshirt over my North Shore track-and-field tee. I’d have to remember that tomorrow morning when I showed up for my second shift at god-awful o’clock.
The big clearing was quiet when I got to it. Other than a few noisy birds, there wasn’t another living thing in sight.
The dew on the grass was evaporating from the sun beating down on the lawn, creating a blanket of fog that moved across the clearing. It felt like I was walking on top of clouds as I crossed the lawn.
I wandered over to the place where Callum and the rafting crew had been yesterday—it seemed to be the congregation point at the camp—but no one was there. Not even my best-of-the-best trainer. My cell phone said it was six-fifty. Ben told me to show up at seven.
When 6:55 flashed on my screen, I started to worry. A little.
Another minute ticked off, and that nervous feeling settled deep in my stomach. Where was Boy Wonder? I wouldn’t expect the best camp counselor trainer around to show up late for a shift. I mean, I didn’t even have a camp shirt yet.
That was when I noticed someone lumbering toward me from the other side of the campground.
Callum looked tired. Actually, he looked beat, like he might have gotten three minutes of sleep. Even from here I could tell his eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a disaster. It looked like he’d taken a hand beater to his hair and dialed it to the top speed.
A few steps later, he pulled a baseball cap from his pocket and flopped it onto his head. That took care of the hair problem, but not the bloodshot, tired thing. “You,” he said. Nothing else followed.
It sounded like an accusation.
“You,” I repeated. Mine sounded like more of a confirmation.
“You could have mentioned you were the new counselor yesterday.” He kept moving closer, tucking his T-shirt into his pants.
“Someone else was a little busy dominating the conversation or else I might have.”
He kept looking at me, like he was waiting for something. I didn’t know what. “Have you ever been a counselor before?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Have you ever had a job before?”
I shook my head as I tried to figure out how to look at him without looking at him. His hair aside, the rest of him looked pretty damn A-okay. He was in a pair of heavy canvas cargo pants, and over his T-shirt, he’d thrown on a heavy flannel shirt that had been washed so many times most of the color had faded from it. Mud-flecked hiking boots completed the Ranger Callum ensemble.
“You’re seventeen, right? About to go into your senior year?” His voice was lower this morning, probably from just waking up.
“Yes and yes. Is there something you’re getting at?”
“Just that I don’t know a lot of people our age who’ve never worked before.”
If his voice had been a bit
higher and his expression a smirk, I would have taken that as an insult. “Yeah, well, I know plenty who haven’t.”
“I bet you do, Santa Monica.”
I felt my blood warm. Just because I’d never had an official job didn’t mean I hadn’t worked my ass off in other areas. “What are you saying, Inglewood?”
He shrugged, then started moving in the direction of a big shed off to the side of the dining hall. “That we’ve got a lot to go over in the next three weeks. I hope you’re a fast learner.”
“I am,” I fired off, marching after him. “I hope you’re a decent teacher.”
“I am, but Ben already told you that, right?” He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk shifting into place. “About me being his best?”
“I think the word he used was tough. Or maybe it was hard-ass. I can’t remember.”
He kept moving. “If you don’t think you can handle me, I bet Ben would be willing to let someone ‘nicer’ train you. You know, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
This time I huffed, continuing to charge after him. “I’ve handled way harder than you. Do you think you can handle me? Or would you rather Ben hire someone more submissive?”
“I’ve handled way more than you, too, and besides, I’m used to strong women.” He stopped outside the shed doors and pulled a set of keys from his pocket.
What had I seen in this guy, again? “Let me guess. Your probation officers?”
His gaze cut my direction. “My mom.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t been expecting that.
“She raised me, so that automatically earns her the strong-woman title. And my brother, which earns her the title of saint, too.” The first key he slid into the lock worked. There had to be a few dozen keys on that ring, none of them labeled.
“Older or younger brother?” I asked as he threw open the creaky metal doors.
“Older.”
I waited just outside the doors when he ducked into the shed. It was dark and smelled musty. “In age, but you’re the older brother of the two, aren’t you?”
A giant backpack landed at my feet with a thud. “What makes you say that?” His voice kind of echoed.
I stepped to the side, just in case anything else came flying out, like a sharp projectile. “Personal experience.”
“You have an older brother, too?” He dropped another pack beside the big one.
“No, mine’s younger, but I just recognize that protective look, you know. I live that look.” I moved aside again when he stepped out of the shed. He didn’t seem to know (or care) about personal space. “Does your brother still live at home?”
“Nope. He moved out.” He closed the doors and locked them.
“Do you still get to see him?”
“Yeah, sure.” One shoulder lifted as he pocketed the keys. “Every Saturday during visiting hours at the correctional facility back home.” Another shrug, but I could tell from his voice and the way he wouldn’t look at me that he wasn’t as indifferent as he came off. “Hopefully, you do a better job protecting your brother than I did with mine.”
I shifted, not sure what to say. I’d never been in a situation where a person just dropped the my-brother’s-in-jail bomb on me. “We all make our own choices,” I said.
Callum threw on the bigger pack like it was filled with marshmallows. “Then let’s hope your brother makes better choices than mine did.”
I grabbed the bag meant for Counselor-in-Training Ainsworth. I watched what he was doing and mirrored it, trying not to act like I didn’t have a clue how to fasten one of these beasts. I’d been hiking before, sure, but the kind that went with old school backpacks stuffed with a couple bottles of water, a first aid kit, and a few emergency granola bars. I’d never gone Hiking. “What about your dad? What’s he like?”
He leaned forward and buckled the hip strap. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. If you could find him, which neither my mom nor the State of California has been able to do since he bailed on us and decided to do the honorable thing by dodging child support.” He said it like he was talking about the last movie he’d seen—totally matter-of-fact. It threw me, learning what I guessed were Callum’s dirty little secrets less than twenty-four hours after we’d met.
“That must have sucked,” I said, considering kicking my own butt for coming up with such a lame response. “I’m sorry.” There. Better. Barely.
Callum’s response to that was a shrug. “With a guy like that? We were better off without him. Besides, Mom nailed the parenting thing all on her own.” He nudged me. “Ben told me you’re here with your family. That must be cool.”
I checked his expression twice, sure he must have been joking. “Eh, cool isn’t the word I’d use to describe it. At all.” He glanced over, surprised. “Other than my little brother, Harry, I couldn’t imagine a better summer job than one that put me out-of-state and away from my parents. Better yet, out-of-planet.”
“So you’re saying you guys have a great relationship?” He adjusted his chest strap. His chest was wider than most guys his age had. Not that I’d noticed.
I smiled at the ground. “Off the charts.”
“What’s the deal, then?” He moved closer when I kept fumbling with my chest strap. He snapped it into place.
“More like what isn’t the deal.” I cleared my throat as he pulled on the shoulder straps. The pack felt a hundred times better once he’d dialed in the straps. Instead of feeling like I was lugging around a gorilla holding on to my shoulder by its pinkies, now it felt more like a koala bear hugging my back.
I needed to change the subject. If I talked about my family, I was going to cry, and I’d made it a policy not to cry in front of virtual strangers. “How does some guy from Inglewood wind up a lead counselor at a camp in Flagstaff?”
As soon as he looked at me, he glanced away. After all the eye contact yesterday, he was struggling today. “His mom brings him and his brother to camp when they’re kids and he discovers that there’s more to the outdoors than the playground at his school.”
“Go, Mom.”
“She is the best.” He unbuttoned the cuffs of his flannel shirt and rolled the sleeves to his elbows, smiling. I didn’t know many guys who’d fess up to idolizing their moms for fear of being labeled a mama’s boy, but I admired him for not seeming to care.
“Her son didn’t come out too bad, either, right?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Are we having a bonding moment right now? Because I make it a point not to fraternize with the underlings.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “I figured that out last night at dinner.” I paused, reliving the scene. “Why were you sitting alone?”
“I was in a roomful of two hundred people. I wasn’t alone.”
I sighed. “Fine. Why were you sitting at a table alone?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Why were you sitting at a table alone?” When I didn’t answer right away, he settled his hands on his hips. “As fun as the game of Getting to Know You is, we’ve got to get you trained if you’re going to be on your own in a few weeks. Sharing time comes after snack time comes after nap time, cool?”
“Cool.”
He backed up a couple of steps. “I’m not sure how much Ben’s gone over with you—”
“Not much.”
Callum looked out at the lawn in front of the dining hall, where campers were starting to show up for the hike. “Well, campers rotate through in two- and four-week sessions, which means a counselor comes in contact with over a thousand campers every summer. Campers who’ve been doing this kind of thing their whole lives and campers who wouldn’t know how to lace a hiking boot to save their lives. It’s important for a counselor to be able to meet each camper where they’re at.”
My head was swimming. “And how do you do that?”
“Get to know them. Get to know the job. Get really good at the job.”
“Sounds intimidating.”
He tipped his head toward the campers before h
eading toward them. “Let’s go over.” He made sure I followed. “It’s easy. Know the plan. Stick to the plan. Have fun. The rest will take care of itself.”
I held my arms out. “So easy.” I didn’t hide my sarcasm.
He dropped his hands on my shoulders and lowered his head to my eye level. “One foot in front of the other. That’s it. I’ll take the lead to set the pace. You’ll take up the end, so all you have to do is make sure no one gets left behind. Stay alert, follow my lead, have fun, leave no camper behind,” he said, listing each off on his fingers. “I trust you.”
My face flattened. “You’ve known me for two and a half seconds.”
“Doesn’t matter. In my world, you start out with my trust,” He squeezed my shoulders before dropping his hands. “What you do with that is up to you.”
“But—”
“No buts. This is how you learn, by doing, not by sitting around in some classroom, taking notes.” Callum motioned at the campers. “We’ve got to get this hike started unless we want to eat lunch for dinner. Any more questions?”
I knew he meant There better not be any more questions, but I had to ask. “What about a camp counselor T-shirt? Don’t I need one so the campers will know who I am?”
Callum gave me a look, one that suggested he was questioning my sanity. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and turned toward the cluster of campers. “Hey, everyone! Good morning! This is Phoenix, you know, named for the bird that rises from its own ashes.” When he threw me an amused look, I elbowed him. Didn’t do anything but make him look more amused. “She’ll be along on the hike with me, so if you need anything or have a question, feel free to ask either one of us.”
I smiled and waved at the crowd. As long as they didn’t ask me anything too technical or expect me to splint a cast, I should be able to fill in the shoes of camp-counselor-in-training today. Hopefully.
“We’ll be leaving in five minutes. Please take this time to make one last bathroom break, double-check your boots, and recheck your water bottles. The Matterhorn’s three miles up and three miles down, well into blister territory if your socks or boots are rubbing at you wrong. Do your feet a favor and double-check.”
Trusting You and Other Lies Page 5
