by Juliann Rich
“Coming?” I called back to Ian who sprinted to catch up with me.
“You know,” he said as his footsteps fell into a comfortable rhythm with mine, “you’re a natural leader. People listen to your ideas. You’d make a great junior counselor, except…”
“Except what?”
Ahead of us the door to the boathouse opened and Sean and Sara emerged, their arms filled with paddles and life jackets.
“It’s just, you know…” He slowed his steps. “These people.” He jerked his head toward Sean and Sara. “They don’t seem like they’d be okay with someone who is…”
“Who is what?” I frowned at him.
It slipped then, the mask he wore that said he didn’t give a damn what anybody thought of him. “Nothing. You’re going to be a great junior counselor. Just ignore me. Everyone does.”
“But,” I blurted out, “I don’t want to ignore you. In fact, I’d like to—” The sound of paddles crashing to the ground stopped me from saying anything else, which was perfect because my mouth had evidently disconnected from my brain.
“Gentlemen!” Sean walked up to us. “What trouble are you two getting into today?”
When words failed me, it fell to Ian to plead our case for checking out a pontoon, and I had to hand it to him. In no time at all we were cruising Spirit Lake with me at the helm, the girls at the bow, and Ian brooding in the passenger seat next to me. I opened the engine up full throttle and turned into a wave, causing spray to fly up and hit him. Unfortunately, it also soaked the girls who raised such holy hell I decided to coast to a stop and drop anchor.
“Now what?” Bethany asked. “Do we run lines or something?”
“Naw,” Ian said. “Plenty of time for that. Sara wants us to get to know each other. You know what that calls for, right? A game of Truth or Dare.”
A good junior counselor would have said no to Ian’s ludicrous suggestion. A good junior counselor would have put his foot down, even if it had rocked the pontoon. Hell, a good junior counselor would have jumped overboard and swum for shore when he had the chance. I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I joined the others as they sat in a circle on the deck of the pontoon. The sun beat down on my body, burning up the last bit of common sense God gave me. Must have been 106 degrees again.
“Sure, Truth or Dare sounds like fun.” I listened to the water smack against the bottom of the boat, rocking it back and forth, and went with the flow.
“Great. I’ll start. Jonathan, Truth or Dare?” Ian grinned wickedly. I should have known. At the very least, I should have suspected.
“Truth.” A metallic-blue dragonfly hovered for a moment before it darted away. In the distance I heard the splash of a fish jumping.
“Who was the first person you kissed and what was it like?” Ian raised a can of orange Crush to his lips and winked at me as he took a long sip. The flush started on the back of my neck. Just the word kiss coming out of his mouth could do that to me.
The tension in our group hitched up a notch or two as they leaned in, hungry for the scoop. Ready to devour the steamy details. Only…I didn’t have any.
“Easy. It was my mom and it was probably sticky. I was a big fan of pudding back then.” I grabbed a Dorito, popped it into my mouth, and licked the dusting of seasoning from my fingers.
“No fair!” MacKenzie shouted. “That’s not what Ian meant. He meant your first real kiss. With a girl.”
“Yeah, well, when that actually happens, I’ll let you know.” I grinned.
MacKenzie’s mouth dropped open. Ian leaned back against the metal railing of the boat. Satisfaction oozed from him.
“You mean you’ve never been kissed?” MacKenzie looked incredulous. The boat tilted and settled again as the pontoon navigated a wave.
“Nope. Not yet.”
“We’re definitely going to have to change that.” Ian’s voice rumbled low with hidden meaning. My eyes darted to his face.
“Okay, Bethany, your turn. Truth or Dare?” Kari laughed, miraculously, gloriously oblivious to Ian’s body language.
“Um, dare. Sure, why not?” Bethany looked fearless. The sun brought out the natural streaks of gold in her hair. MacKenzie leaned forward and whispered something into Kari’s ear. Giggling and nodding, she shot a knowing look at me and winked.
Holy crap! The voice screamed in my head, the way it does when you’re stuck at the top of a roller coaster. Right before it starts to move and suddenly you’re plunging. Out of control. Ready to vomit.
“I dare you to kiss Jonathan on the mouth for one minute. What you do with your tongues is up to you,” Kari announced.
Bethany turned white and stared at me. Ian sat up fast, blinking. Something inside me balled up and panicked.
“Ready, get set, kiss!” MacKenzie stared at the second hand on her watch. Bethany leaned forward, awkward, fear in her eyes. A cloud crossed in front of the sun, casting Ian’s face in shadows.
“Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay,” I whispered to both of us. Her soft lips pressed against the hard ridges of my mouth. We plunged. Racing out of control. Wind rushing past us. My stomach lurched. My scream never escaped because her mouth held me prisoner.
“Thirty seconds! Last chance to move into second base!” MacKenzie yelled.
Bethany groaned or moaned. I couldn’t tell which, so I peeked. Her loose shirt hung open as she leaned toward me. Hello! Two full, rounded breasts spilled out of silly pink lace. Her chest heaved, straining the thin fabric. My stomach tightened, and I shifted my eyes away quickly. Though her long brown hair had fallen around us, I saw Ian, eyes smoldering and fists tightened. The boat tossed, flinging Bethany and her breasts toward me, our kiss unbroken. The air filled with the scent of coconut. Rounded, firm coconut. The scent of suntan lotion came up off her skin, the bronzing kind. I reached to steady her.
“And…time!” MacKenzie called. Clapping and whistling echoed across the water as Bethany broke off our kiss. She paused before she pulled away. Her face was flushed; her breath came in quick, hushed gasps. Her dark brown eyes struggled to hold mine.
“That was more than just okay, Jonathan,” she whispered into my ear before she sat back down.
The boat swayed. The sun baked. All eyes were on me, but I couldn’t talk.
My eyes fixed on the mangled can in Ian’s clenched fist and the sticky orange liquid that spilled over his fingers…and I knew.
I wasn’t the only one with a crush.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, wait up! I’ll join you,” Ian called to me as I walked along the beach later that evening, occasionally stopping to pick up and examine a flat, thin stone. Looking for just the right one. “Whatcha doing?”
“Not much. Just skipping rocks.” Spirit Lake stretched in front of us. The sound of laughing voices carried over the campground.
“Cool. I’ve never done that before.”
“Really? It’s easy. Like this.” I leaned back, arm extended, and aimed low so the stone would skim the surface and skip across it. Except it didn’t. My first attempt flopped and sank.
“Like that, huh?” Ian mocked.
“Not exactly.” I picked up another stone, wafer thin and flat, and let it fly. One…two…three…yes, four full skips and then it too sank and disappeared, but man, it was beautiful while it flew! “More like that.” Pride crept into my voice.
“Okay, my turn.” Ian crouched and examined the rocks. He took his time. Finally he chose one, elliptical and rounded at the bottom.
“Mmm, I wouldn’t—”
He stopped me with one glance.
“Oh, okay. Whatever you want.” I grinned.
Ian wound his arm back like a baseball player and pitched the rock. The splash was even bigger than I’d hoped.
“Excellent form, McGuire. You might have broken a record…for the shot put!”
“Aren’t you just hilarious? Fine, you show me. How did you hold your arm?”
I picked up the thinnest, flatt
est rock I could find and reached back with my arm, waist high and parallel to the ground. Ian stepped behind me. He slid his body against mine and stretched his arm out, pressing it against my arm. The breath from his mouth, hot against my neck, stirred my hair. A shiver ran down my back when he whispered, “Like this, Jonathan?”
“Yeah, I like…um, I mean, yeah, like this. For skipping stones.” My heart pounded. I stepped away and looked at Ian.
“For skipping stones, huh?” His eyes searched mine, looking for the place I never showed anyone. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really cute when you’re showing off?”
The rock I’d been clutching slipped through my fingers and clattered onto the beach. Panicked, I looked around. Aaron, Sean, and Sara were sitting with a bunch of kids by the bonfire. Jake and his group were hanging down by the dock. I looked back at Ian. “Excuse me?”
“I asked if anyone has ever told you that you’re cute before. Especially when you’re showing off.”
Sara looked in our direction. A frown passed across her face.
“Ian, what are you talking about? I’m not, you know…” My voice came out like a cross between a whisper and a hiss.
“Gay?” Though a cool breeze blew off the lake, I felt myself flush with heat.
“Yeah. I’m not gay,” I whispered.
“That’s good to know. Thanks for clearing that up.” Ian turned his attention back to the lake. He wound his arm back again like a baseball pitcher, gripping a small boulder in his hand.
“Is that what you meant earlier? That I’d be a great junior counselor except that I’m…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word. An image of the locked safe in my bedroom flashed into my mind. For my coin collection, I’d said, when I had asked for it for Christmas. No coins, just a couple of books. Rainbow High, The Boys and The Bees. And of course, the copy of Boy Meets Boy.
Reading’s just a hobby. It didn’t mean anything, right?
“Yeah, but it was just a crazy thought that flew through my head. I mean, of course you’re not gay. You spent a whole minute sucking face with Bethany today. What gay guy does that?” Ian’s voice dripped sarcasm. His arm snapped forward. The stone soared through the air and splashed into the lake. It sank deeper and deeper through the layers of water, cutting through the strong current until it probed the bottom of Spirit Lake.
I stared at the place where the rock had hit, shattering the perfect surface. The ripples expanded and drifted toward me. “Are you gay?” I whispered.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re terrible at skipping rocks.”
“Yes, I am, Jonathan. I definitely am.” He chuckled.
As the ripples eased into the vast lake, I told myself that he was only talking about his rock-skipping skills, but I knew better.
Nothing about Ian skimmed the surface.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday morning I woke up to the sound of rain hammering the roof. The cabin smelled of wet dirt as I crawled out of my sleeping bag and shivered.
Jake lumbered down the bunk-bed ladder and stood next to me, peering out the window. “Ugh, we’re supposed to spend the afternoon on the lake learning how to navigate with a compass. That oughta be a blast in this shit. Hey, I heard you and that girl in Curtain Call hooked up yesterday.”
“What?” When Jake made kissing sounds, I figured it out. “Oh, you mean Bethany? No, I definitely did not hook up with her. It was just part of a stupid game of Truth or Dare.”
“Awesome.” Jake smiled, unusual for him any time of the day, but especially before noon. “She was my partner during Silent Introductions. Does she ever talk about me?”
I looked at him in surprise. Before I had time to think, a loud laugh burst from my mouth.
A hurt look flashed over his face.
“No, Jake. That’s not what I meant. I was laughing about your—”
“Iron Man pj’s? Really Jake?” Fryin’ Bryan—a new camper who earned the nickname by bringing an electric mosquito zapper to camp—had looked over when I laughed and apparently spotted Jake’s getup too.
“Up yours, small-fry.” The hard shell returned to Jake’s face.
“Seriously, dude. Tell me your mom gave you those for a Christmas gift and you had to bring them.” Bryan didn’t relent.
“Keep it up and they’ll be digging that mosquito zapper out of your ass.” Jake took a step toward Bryan.
“And that’s enough, all of you.” The mellow melted off Aaron who pulled himself up to his full height. “One more word from either of you and you’ll be scrubbing the camp toilets.”
“It was just a joke,” Bryan mumbled.
“I’m sorry. I really am.” I tried to connect eyes with Jake, but he shoved past me. I gave up, threw my clothes on, grabbed my rain jacket, and headed out of the cabin toward the dining hall for breakfast.
*
I pulled open the doors and inhaled the scents of applewood and cinnamon in the lodge. Elk and deer heads were mounted on the walls. Antler chandeliers hung from the ceiling and cast the room in muted light. The far end of the large room served as the indoor hangout for the camp, complete with a jukebox and bookshelves filled with every board game imaginable and dozens of puzzles—some of which even had all the pieces. Comfortable chairs and tables were scattered around, and in the corner a fire roared in the stone fireplace. The end of the room nearest the entrance boasted pine tables lined in three long rows and served as the dining hall. Soggy campers bent over their bowls of steaming oatmeal and chatted about the crappy weather. I scanned the crowd.
Plenty of redheads, just not the right one.
I shook the rain from my raincoat, then made my way through the breakfast line, grabbing a bowl of warm oatmeal. I tossed on a few raisins just for fun.
Hannah winked at me as she handed me a glass of orange juice. “Someone’s been saving you a seat, I think.” She nodded in the direction of a table where Bethany sat. “She’s a sweet girl, Jonathan.”
“Good morning,” Bethany said as I sat down across from her. Her cheeks were flushed pink.
She studied her bowl like there was going to be a final exam. Her spoon carved a groove in her oatmeal. Around and around the groove, her spoon traveled. Getting nowhere fast.
“Morning. Some weather, huh?” I tried to break the tension.
“No kidding. Yuck. At least I have a cooking class with Hannah this morning, so I get to be inside. How about you?” She pulled her eyes off the bowl and looked at me.
“No such luck. Sculpture in the outdoor pavilion.” Jake walked by, scowling at me like he was considering smashing his tray over my head. I shoveled in a huge bite of oatmeal. It hit my tongue and exploded like napalm, a hundred times worse than when she’d kissed me. “Ooh, ouch! Shi—shoot, that was hot.”
“Oh, are you okay?” She touched my arm.
“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal.” I looked up just as Ian walked in and spotted me sitting there with Bethany’s hand resting on my arm. He swiveled and walked out of the dining hall.
Presumably, he’d lost his appetite.
I know I had.
*
I didn’t bother explaining to Bethany why I grabbed my raincoat and bolted out the door. The rain had painted the camp in shades of gray. Rain dripped off every surface. I spotted him walking ahead of me.
“Hey, Ian.” I sprinted to catch up with him. “Hold up. I’ll walk with you.”
He swung around. “Did you have a nice breakfast with your girlfriend?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“You might want to break that news to Bethany.” He began to walk away. “Hell, break it to the whole camp. They’re all gossiping about you and Bethany being an item. Did you know that?”
“Ian, wait!”
“What?” Hurt lurked in his eyes. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know. I just thought you could tell me other words that rhyme with day and I could te
ach you how to skip rocks.” I sounded pathetic.
“Take my word for it, Mr. Junior Counselor, you’re better off with your girlfriend.”
Heat rose inside me, chasing the damp chill away. “I would never have kissed her if you hadn’t suggested that stupid game! And she is not my girlfriend. I don’t even want a girlfriend!”
“Right.” He stared at me. “But you’re not gay.”
It would have been a good parting line. Unfortunately, Ian appeared to be heading in the same direction I was as we walked across the rain-drenched camp toward the arts-and-crafts pavilion. Silence stretched between us until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I don’t know what I am,” I confessed as we stepped into the pavilion and out of the rain. “I just know what I’m supposed to be.”
“Let me clear things up for you then. You’re a confused jerk,” Ian said.
“Maybe,” I countered, sitting down at a table that had ample room for two people. “But I’m not a confused jerk with a girlfriend.”
Ian shot me a withering glance and headed to a seat as far away from me as possible.
Simon wheeled out of the bright yellow supply hut, covered in clay and paint. “Welcome, everyone! Before we begin, I’d like to recommend you wear your worst clothes to sculpture.” He looked around the class. “This is going to get messy.”
Chapter Nine
Spray painted phrases like Christ Rocks! I’m High on God! Jesus Loves You! covered the supply hut. Someone had written iPod, iPhone, iPad followed by iPray! Dozens of painted images of crosses, peace signs, and the letters WWJD completed the display. I sat at one of the tables under the covered patio that was attached to the supply hut, protected from the light drizzle of rain, and tried to avoid looking at Ian.
