I should move. I should stand up. I should say, We shouldn’t do this.
He runs his thumb to the tips of my fingers.
My whole body feels like it’s going to explode.
I look up at him. His mouth is inches away from mine.
“We can kiss, but that’s it,” I say. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay,” I say again and press my lips against his.
Everything explodes. He kisses me softly at first, and then his hand is on the back of my neck and pulling me into him and my hands are on his back.
I’m pulling him against me and leaning backward on the bench and now he’s on top of me. He feels so good on top of me and we’re still kissing. His tongue is soft, and I am kissing someone who is definitely not Eli. He is someone new and different and it should freak me out, but it doesn’t because it feels so good.
Now my legs are around him and I am pulling him closer and we are still kissing and I don’t want it to stop. But it has to stop. Because I am not going to have sex with him. That would be taking this too far. But wow do I wish I were wearing less clothes.
We keep kissing and kissing, and pressing our bodies against each other. Until a million hours later when my lips are raw, and we’re just lying there.
“So that happened,” he says, and I laugh, and he laughs.
“That was . . . fun,” I say.
“It was really fun,” he says.
“We should probably go back to our bunks, though,” I say. “It must be super late.”
“Yeah.” He sits up and then pulls me up too. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” I say, and I mean it. He takes my hand and we start to move back to the main road, when I stop. “Wait,” I say. “Maybe I should walk by myself? In case anyone sees me . . .” My voice trails off.
Just saying that implies a whole issue that we are going to have to talk about. No one can see us. Because we’re not supposed to be doing this.
“Ah. Okay. That makes sense. I’ll give you a two-minute lead,” he says. He leans over and gives me a soft, quick kiss on the lips.
I run the whole way.
When I get to my bunk, my heart is racing. I am not sure if it’s because of my little sprint, or what just happened. Probably both. I quietly open the front door and make my way to the bathroom. Then I sneak into the counselors’ room. Janelle is out cold. I don’t hear Lis or Talia. I take off my bra and jeans and sweatshirt, but leave on my T-shirt and get into my bed.
I can still smell him on me. I can still feel him on me. I close my eyes, thinking of him and smiling.
Danish knocks on our counselors’ room the next morning. “Morning, winner!”
My eyes open. Did I dream that? Or did I really just hardcore make out with Gavin?
I have a flash of him lying on top of me. Art porch. I feel both sick and excited.
“Sam, you can stay in bed a little while longer if the others will watch your kids,” Danish says.
“Got ’em, Sam,” Talia says. “You should sleep, champ!”
“Thanks.” I pull my covers over my head. My heart is racing, but I don’t want to get out of bed. I let them go to flagpole and pretend to be asleep.
When the bunk is quiet, I push my covers off.
What did I do? What did I do?
I get out of bed and go to the bathroom. I sit on the tiny toilet and take a deep breath.
I cheated on Eli.
Why did I cheat on Eli?
Suddenly a million questions are buzzing through my mind. Am I a terrible person? Do I have to tell Eli? Do I want to tell Eli? Do I want to break up with Eli? Do I love Eli? How could I love Eli if I made out with Gavin? Do I want to make out with Gavin again?
My head hurts.
I flush and wash my hands, and then stare at myself in the mirror. My lips look different, like they’ve been stung. Plumper. And my chin and the area around my lips is red. Like it’s been rubbed by sandpaper. Gavin should have shaved.
I wash my face to calm it down.
Since everyone is at breakfast, I take my phone with me and stand in the spot that I know has internet.
I look at my phone for the first time in almost a day.
Eli: I’m sorry about yesterday. I know this job is important to you. It’s just really hard to never talk to you! I miss you!
Eli: Did you win? I hope you won.
Eli: In Switzerland! It rained the whole day. So bored. Miss you.
His texts make me feel worse. I’m not sure what to write back. Miss you too? Miss you so much I made out with someone else? Hi! I cheated on you! Hope you’re having fun!
But let’s just put this into perspective. It was only once. Gavin and I just kissed. It’s not good, but what’s the point in telling Eli? He’ll never find out. No one else here even knows him. I can pretend it never happened. It’s not like Gavin is going to tell anyone. He’s cheating on his girlfriend too!
Hi, I write. Sorry about yesterday too. I am not sure what else to say. Oh. I won color war! The second biggest thing that happened last night.
When I’m back in the bunk, the kids are back. There is a paper plate and a croissant on my bed.
“Aw, thank you!” I say.
“You’re welcome,” Talia says. “There’s a cup of coffee on your shelf.”
“You are the best.”
“Hardly,” she says. “But we have freakin’ tennis next and I can’t do it alone.”
“I’m all yours,” I say.
“Thank goodness.”
I spend all of tennis nervous for sailing, which is second period, but it starts to pour in the middle of tennis so we all run back to the bunk. Our rain schedule says we have Games in the Bunk, which might be the best activity ever. Except for sailing, which would have been better. Maybe? Part of me doesn’t mind hiding.
I teach the girls how to play the card game Crazy Eights. I’m half paying attention, half wondering what will happen when I see Gavin again. How do I act? Do I say something? Like, “This can’t happen again”? Unless I want it to happen again. I shuffle and deal. Do I want it to happen again?
I finally see him at lunch. He’s wearing his fluorescent-yellow rain jacket, which I’ve noticed before but now makes my heart jump.
He catches my eye as soon as he walks in.
He smiles. It feels like every drop of blood in my body rushes to my face. I smile back.
One of the kids pulls him over to his table and he winks at me before following him.
I’m careful not to look at him again. I don’t want him to think I’m obsessing. Which I totally am.
Does he feel the same way I do? Maybe I’m just some random girl he can make out with. Maybe he makes out with other girls all the time. Maybe he’s made out with other counselors this summer.
Maybe he’s a total creep. Maybe I’m a total creep. Maybe he’s going to tell all the guys here that I’m a huge slut who cheats on her boyfriend. Am I huge slut who cheats on her boyfriend? I definitely cheated on my boyfriend. Why am I such an asshole?
“What the hell is up with you?” Talia asks. “I just yelled freeze and you didn’t even notice.”
“Sorry,” I say. I look around the table and see that the kids are indeed frozen. I am super spacey today.
“Hey,” Botts says, coming up beside me.
“Hey,” I say back. And then I wonder. Does he know? Would Gavin have told him? No. Maybe?
“Are you coming to my cottage again this day off?” he asks.
“Oh. When are you taking off?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Is that okay?” I ask Talia.
“Totally,” she says. “You need a day off.”
“Great,” I say. “I’m in. Fun! Thank you for inviting me.”
I don’t ask if Gavin is coming too. But I am really, really hoping he is.
I don’t see Gavin the next day. When his table is empty at dinner, I realize he must be on his overnight.
&
nbsp; We really need to talk about what happened. Don’t we?
I assume that I’ll get to talk to him at the cottage at least, but when I get to the office at six p.m., he’s not there. It’s just Botts and Priya and Smokin’ Hot Benji.
“I’ll drive,” Botts says.
“No Gavin?” I ask, trying to sound cucumber-cool.
“No, he’s taking tomorrow night instead. He has to go into the city.”
Why would he have to go into the city? Is he meeting someone? Who? Another girl? Or maybe it’s Kat? No, she’s still in Paris. I think. I hate that I’m even worrying about this. Why do I care? Why didn’t he tell me?
I sling my backpack over my shoulder. “I need sleep.”
“You are looking kind of tired,” Botts says.
“Hey!”
“I’m kidding. Kind of. Let’s go. You can go straight to sleep.”
I manage to stay up for a delicious dinner of steaks and baked potatoes and a dip in the hot tub.
“Who wants to watch a movie?” Botts asks.
“Me!” I say.
“Sure,” Priya says.
Smokin’ Hot Benji shrugs.
“Okay, meet me in the living room in twenty,” Botts says.
Botts turns off the outdoor lights, and the four of us go back inside.
I take a quick hot shower and put on my leggings, a bra, and a sweatshirt and head downstairs.
Botts is already making popcorn in the microwave. He’s wearing flannel pants and a Boston Red Sox T-shirt. “What do you want to watch?” he asks.
“Do you have the latest Star Wars?”
“Do I have the latest Star Wars?” he asks. “Are you kidding? I have every Star Wars! You like Star Wars?”
“Of course I do. I’m Rey for every Halloween. But I haven’t seen the latest.”
“And why were you not at the theater on opening night?”
I shrug. “Eli is not that into Star Wars.”
“So? He wouldn’t go with you?”
“He didn’t want to fight the crowd.”
“Nooooo! Opening night crowds are the best. You could have worn your Rey costume! Next time we’ll go together and I’ll dress up too.”
“As who? Darth Vader?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Han Solo. Obviously. I have the perfect vest.”
I laugh as he sets up the movie.
I look up toward the rooms. “Do you think they’re coming down? It’s been a while.”
“Um . . .” He looks toward the room and smiles. “Possibly not?”
My eyes widen. “Priya and Smokin’ Hot Benji? No way!”
“Maybe? I don’t know. I can see it.”
“Sure,” I say. “Why not?”
My eyes start to feel heavy about halfway through the movie, so I spread out on the couch, pulling a cashmere blanket over my legs. Priya and Smokin’ Hot Benji never show so I have a lot of room. It’s a fabulous couch. A super soft couch. A couch of marshmallows.
Maybe I’ll just take a little snooze.
When I wake up, the credits are rolling and the clock on the DVR says 11:02 p.m.
“Oops,” I say.
“Don’t worry,” he laughs. “I’ll watch it again with you tomorrow. Go to bed. I’ll close up the house.”
I blow him a kiss and climb into my super luxurious bed. I text Eli that I’ll call him in the a.m. and fall fast asleep.
The next morning I wake up at eleven. I scroll through my phone first and go to Instagram. Eli’s last picture was taken in Juan-les-Pins, France. He and his cousin are on the beach together. I scroll through the comments.
Love that place! Are you going to Barcelona?
Then there’s a, Great pic! Best night!
Posted by someone named Sydney.
Who’s Sydney?
I flip over to her profile, which is public.
Her latest post was today, and it’s also in Juan-les-Pins.
And Eli, my Eli, is in the photo!
Wait, what?
Five of them are standing on the beach together! And she—this Sydney chick—is wearing a bikini!
Who is this Sydney chick?!
I scroll a few photos down and right in front of me is another picture of her, some other girl, and my Eli’s face pressed together in a picture, smiling for the camera! In Switzerland!
What the hell? Didn’t he specifically tell me that it was raining in Switzerland and that he was so bored?
He doesn’t look so bored. He doesn’t look so bored at all. He’s smiling and drinking and he looks like he’s having a great old time being so not bored in Switzerland.
And now Sydney’s in France with him too? For real, who is this girl?
Fine. Whatever. It’s not like I have a right to get mad, even if something did happen.
I look up Gavin’s profile. It takes me a few minutes to find him, but there he is.
I scroll through his pictures. He doesn’t post a lot. Although he’s in camp, and we’re not supposed to be online. But still. He hasn’t posted once all summer. His last photo was in May. It’s the one Lis showed me of him and Kat.
Part of me hates that she’s so beautiful.
But on the other hand, now it makes me feel powerful.
Being with me is worth risking his relationship with this beautiful girl.
Wow, what a seriously messed up way of thinking.
I should call Eli. I really, really, really should. I press his name.
“Hey, stranger,” he says, answering.
“Hey, stranger to you,” I say, my voice cold.
“I miss you.”
“I . . . miss you too.” I do miss him. Kind of. I’m a little mad at him, though.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“At Botts’s place. Day off. I slept in. You?”
“You spend a lot of time with this Botts character,” he says.
Ha. Botts is the one he’s jealous of? “We’re friends,” I say. “And he has a really nice house.”
Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s jealous of Botts. He won’t realize what he should really be jealous about. “Where are you?” I ask.
“In my room, too. South of France. You’re alone? Can we FaceTime?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.”
Great, now he’s going to look at me. I shake the worry off. He can’t tell. It’s not like I have hickeys on my neck. And the stubble burn has worn off.
My phone buzzes with a FaceTime video request. I accept.
“Hey, Beautiful,” he says.
“Hi,” I say, and I smile. “Look how tan you are! And scruffy!”
He laughs and touches his chin. There’s a white wall behind him. He could be literally anywhere, for all I know.
“You’re pretty tan too,” he says. “You look great.”
I smooth my hair out and sit up. I try to hold the camera so that it’s at a good angle and I don’t have a double chin.
“You’d love it here,” he says. “I wish I were in bed with you right now.”
“Eli!” I say, then I whisper, “You’re on speakerphone. I don’t know who else is in the house.” I look outside and see that everyone is at the lake.
No one is here. Should I tell him what happened? No. There’s no point in doing that. It’s so easy just to pretend it never happened. What would be the point in saying anything anyway? It was clearly a one-time thing. It built up and then it happened and now it’s done. It’s not like we slept together. We don’t even live in the same city. Gavin didn’t even tell me he was taking a day off without me! He just left!
Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.
Eli, Eli, Eli.
Sydney, Sydney, Sydney.
“So who are you in France with?” I ask.
“My cousin.”
“That’s it? Just the two of you?” I ask. I try to keep my face blank.
“And some other people I met in Switzerland.”
“Oh? Really? Where are they from?”
“Australia. And some Ameri
cans.”
Interesting that he does not mention that any of them are women. Lie by omission? I don’t press, mostly because I don’t want him to press. About anything.
He shows me his hotel room, and I show him where I’m sleeping.
“I fly in on the twenty-seventh,” he says. “Only two weeks left! Are you still okay to take a day off on the twenty-eighth?”
We coordinated the day off in advance, since it was the last day off we’re allowed to take, and his first day back. “Yes, but are you sure you’re going to want to drive all the way up to camp? I know you’ll be tired. Or I can come meet you in the city. Or I’ll be home the next week.”
“No, if that’s your last day off, then I’ll come then. We can go somewhere near camp so I get more time with you,” he says. Which is thoughtful, and selfless, and really sweet.
Except I don’t really want him anywhere near camp. Better to keep the worlds separate. But I don’t want to say anything that sounds suspicious.
“Okay,” I say. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I do love him. I really do. He’s sweet and caring and, yeah, he doesn’t really appreciate my job here, but I don’t really get what he’s doing there. In two weeks we’ll be together again and then I’ll visit him in Greenwich after camp, and then we’ll be at school again and camp will be a hazy memory.
Eli is real. Gavin is a sexy mirage.
What happened with him was a one-time thing. And now it’s over.
We pull up to camp at six p.m. to see Gavin driving out.
My heart stops.
He honks twice. He’s driving someone’s car. I’m not sure whose.
Botts honks back.
I have another day without him. I’m relieved. I’m disappointed. But at least, if he’s not at camp, I can’t hook up with him.
WEEK 4 SCHEDULE—BUNK 6A
Week 4
Even though I’ve decided it’s over with Gavin, I still spend most of Sunday thinking about him.
Except during frog hunting. Frog hunting is all-consuming.
Danish finally put it on the schedule.
We all put on our rain boots, wear clothes we don’t mind getting dirty, take buckets, and go to the marshy area beside the beach. We run into Botts on the way.
“Omigod, you’re going frog hunting?” he cries. “I want to come too! I haven’t been in years! How did I not see that on the schedule!”
Just a Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe Page 16
