Courtney and Bridget placed towels on the ground within a couple feet of the net post closest to the forest. They’d done this for every volleyball day so far, but never so close.
“You really should move back, Courtney,” Colt said.
She shimmied her shoulders. “I want to be close to the action.”
He rolled his eyes and joined the warm-up scrimmage. “Your funeral.”
Becky walked to the edge of the court, her ponytail swinging for all it was worth, and watched for a minute. Riya felt Courtney’s closeness like static on her skin, her pores tingling with awareness. Finally, Becky blew her whistle.
“Good afternoon, everyone!” she chirped. “These teams look good, so how about we just start a game.”
There were six players to a side. Though that’s how many played on a court, it was too many for sand. Riya reminded herself that this was recreational volleyball and ordered her competitive side to take a back seat. Dee, Tiffany, and two boys and a girl she didn’t really know were on Riya’s team. The girl was named Jenna and moved quickly but had terrible control, each hit shanking off in a wild direction. Derek, David, Stefanie, Colt, and two other girls squared off against them. The game began.
Becky fancied herself a referee but obviously didn’t know the difference between a carry and a clean hit, so she was basically a scorekeeper and line judge. Half of the players were pretty terrible, slapping at the ball with open hands or letting it fall at their feet. David thought he was awesome, but…not so much. Every time he touched the ball, it rose no higher than his forehead, then he yelled at whoever stood next to him for not saving it.
Most of the others, like Dee, Derek, and Colt, were decent and kept the game going. Every time Courtney cheered for Derek or Colt, Riya’s muscles tensed, and she willed herself to stay focused. As usual, Tiffany and Stefanie were incredible. They moved on the court like opposing forces of nature. The confidence they lacked in social situations detonated the volleyball court. Elise burst into applause when the twins went head-to-head, regardless of the victor.
Riya was finally getting into the rhythm of the game when Courtney slapped her hands together and whooped, celebrating Derek’s perfectly positioned tip. Riya’s shoulders burned with the memory of those same hands pressed against her skin earlier that morning. Courtney had been so close Riya could see the detailed texture of Courtney’s cotton candy lips. Her legs nearly went weak with the flashback.
“Ready!” Dee called just a little too loudly.
Riya broke from her reverie to find her friend staring directly at her, her lips twisted and one eyebrow raised.
“Ready,” Riya echoed.
Riya’s team won easily, twenty-one to thirteen.
“Rematch!” David called.
Everyone gulped down a quick drink of water from bottles scattered around the edge of the court. By then, all the boys were shirtless and most of the girls had stripped down to bathing suit tops. Riya wore a red sports bra.
Stefanie took control of her team, placing Derek and Colt—by far, the fastest players—on each side of David to cover him. She pulled Kanda, a Thai girl who could bump set but not much else, to stand next to her.
Three points into the second game, Courtney stood, raising her arms to the sky in a lingering stretch. She shimmied out of her shorts, then crossed her arms, gripping the hemline of her shirt, and tugged it over her head so slowly Riya thought someone had hit the slow-mo button on her life. The sky-blue bikini hung low on her hips, which narrowed to a slim, muscled stomach as the shirt rose higher. Riya’s heart galloped in her chest.
“Service,” Derek called, and Riya ripped her attention back to the game just in time to receive his serve. She bumped it over the net, setting Stefanie up for a disastrous quick hit.
When the ball slammed into the ground, Tiffany turned to Riya with a disapproving look.
“Sorry,” Riya said.
But then, her gaze found Courtney again, who’d finally escaped the shirt, sitting on her towel, rubbing sunscreen on her long, slender arms.
Derek must have called service, but Riya didn’t hear it. Dee passed the serve, and it landed on the sand, halfway between Tiffany and Riya. Tiffany, who’d been fully expecting Riya to give her another great set, glared at her with a raised eyebrow.
Riya mumbled another apology. Dee laughed, which drew a confused look from Tiffany.
Dee came up under the guise of giving Riya an encouraging low five. “You’re staring,” she whispered.
“But, Jesus, can you blame me?”
Dee clicked her tongue, shaking her head.
When Courtney smoothed the lotion down the length of her legs, Riya became the worst player on her team. Jenna carried more weight than she did.
“Get it together!” Tiffany called after her ninth error.
She tried and failed, repeatedly. Even when she wasn’t looking at Courtney, the girl shone in her peripheral vision, demanding attention.
Finally, Courtney stopped smoothing glossy liquid over her incredible dancer’s body and laid flat on the towel, removing her from Riya’s constant line of sight. But, by then, it was too late. Her team lost twenty-one to eighteen.
Everyone smacked hands underneath the net.
“Way to make it interesting, campers!” Becky said.
“Tie-breaker to fifteen,” Tiffany said, her tone brooking no argument.
“Yep,” Stefanie said, a glint in her eye.
“Oh, okay,” Becky said, unsure. “Yeah.”
Riya felt a little sorry for Becky. She leaned over and whispered, “Rally scoring, win by two.”
Becky gave her a small smile. So adorable. She repeated Riya’s words, calling them out to all the players.
The third game transformed the atmosphere. Even the less competitive players dove into the sand and sprinted out of bounds to save balls. There was something about a tie-breaker that brought out the best in players. They traded points, no team gaining more than a two-point lead at any time. The play was so intense, Riya almost forgot about Courtney’s tiny bikini. She could almost ignore the way the sun glistened off Courtney’s skin. Almost.
“Eighteen to seventeen,” Becky announced, bouncing on her toes, signaling for Dee to serve the ball.
Riya stood center front with Tiffany next to her, a setter’s happy spot. This was their chance to finish the game. Derek returned Dee’s serve on the first hit, making Stefanie grunt with frustration. Riya groaned internally when the ball flew straight at Jenna. The girl hit the ball with a single extended forearm, closing her eyes as it impacted her skin. To Riya’s surprise, it floated in a high arc, heading only a couple of feet out of bounds.
“Mine!” Riya sprang forward, crossing in front of Tiffany, parallel to the net. Tiffany pulled her arms back to give Riya space. Riya tracked the ball against the blue sky, instinctively calculating its trajectory versus hers. She squatted low and stretched her right arm out, fist closed, swinging slightly. The ball bounced off her fist and flew backward toward the court.
Then she tripped on the out-of-bounds rope, arms flailing, feet kicking up sand. She stumbled for what felt like minutes. Her knees fell on a towel, and her momentum carried her forward. Her arms caught her half a second before she would’ve collided, full-body, with Courtney Chastain. Her chest barely brushed Courtney’s, setting her skin ablaze.
Courtney’s eyes flew open, then focused slowly, the pupils shrinking to make more room for sapphire blue. Riya hovered inches over Courtney’s glistening body. Her mouth went dry.
Courtney’s lips parted as her gaze drifted down to Riya’s arms, then further down to Riya’s heaving chest, returning to settle on Riya’s lips. Riya froze as memories from four years ago filled her mind. She could almost feel Courtney’s slender fingers tracing circles on the back of her neck, the warmth of her knees pressing into Riya’s thighs. The smell of coconut filled Riya’s nostrils.
“You don’t fall that often, huh?” Courtney murmured, a sleepy smir
k on her face.
Behind them, she heard Tiffany roar in triumph.
“Ugh,” Bridget scoffed. “Klutz, much?”
Belatedly, Courtney’s face twisted into a mask of contempt. “Get off me!” she said, much louder.
Riya scrambled off of Courtney, falling butt-first into the sand and mumbling her apologies.
Tiffany yanked her up by her armpit. “Awesome save!” She gave Riya a sideways squeeze and held her other hand up for a high five.
Riya stared at it before raising her hand to smack it.
Becky’s whistle blew erratically. “Nineteen-seventeen! Nineteen-seventeen!”
Tiffany hauled her back to the court, where her teammates gave her enthusiastic high fives. Riya tossed a glance over her shoulder.
Courtney was staring directly at her, mouth slightly parted and forehead creased in confusion.
…
When she had been younger, Courtney thought watching a movie under the stars was just about the coolest thing ever. For years, it’d been her favorite thing about camp. They only held the movie nights in the field if there was zero percent chance of rain for the night. Otherwise, they’d be in the cafeteria.
She lay back on the grass, her head resting on Derek’s thigh. She sipped from a juice bottle David passed her, filled with something more potent than juice. A superhero movie played on the pop-up screen, but she’d seen it when it played in theaters, so she only half paid attention.
Derek’s long fingers caressed her hair. It felt nice. He was nice.
She was glad she’d decided to check out the woodworking class for the first time ever the other day, or else she might not have noticed him. Bridget had whined and begged her to join her at the pool again, but Courtney needed some time to herself. She never imagined she’d find a tall, dark drink of water to distract her. He was new this year and not in her brother’s cabin. Fresh meat.
Movement on her right caught her attention. Someone sat up, shifting their position, and Courtney recognized Riya’s silhouette. Despite her brother’s insistence, she hadn’t spoken to her today, not once. Not even when Riya’d fallen on top of her during the volleyball game. Courtney’d been drifting off to sleep, so when she opened her eyes, she’d thought it was a dream. Riya floated over her, wisps of her hair soaked with sweat, ragged breaths pushing her chest against Courtney’s. Then Bridget spoke, jarring her awake.
Courtney forced out a breath.
Riya sat on her left, Trey on Riya’s other side. Colt and Delores sat on Courtney’s right. Beyond Riya, the other twins and the loud-mouthed blonde lounged, lazily tossing popcorn at each other. Since when did these two groups sit together on movie night? Since when did they mix at all? Most of them had been coming for years and never exchanged more than casual pleasantries. Now—what?—they were friends?
She’d heard people talk about how at summer camp, people made friends with people they’d never look twice at in the real world. Courtney had always thought that was true of her and Bridget, but this was beyond irregular.
Trey raised his arm, placing it over Riya’s shoulders, pulling her in to his side. Riya adjusted her legs and her knee grazed Courtney’s hip.
Riya jerked back like she’d accidentally touched fire.
Courtney gulped several mouthfuls of the not-juice—vodka with a splash of orange juice for color—then grimaced at the taste. She usually didn’t drink much, if any. At parties back home, she’d clutch a red cup full of soda and no one was ever the wiser. And she hated how it made her thoughts burst out of her mouth, no matter how uncool.
Just for tonight, she told herself. She’d done so well ignoring Riya today. She deserved a little something to take the edge off. Tomorrow would be easier. Maybe then she could look at Riya without focusing on her lips, without her pulse beating in her throat.
Beside her, Riya wouldn’t stop moving. Every other minute, she readjusted her position, her limbs bumping and brushing Courtney like a needy cat. Courtney wasn’t usually the type to be bothered by people touching her, but every touch from Riya was like a livewire to her awareness.
The bottle emptied before the movie finished. Courtney didn’t notice until Colt picked it up, then shook it at her, raising his eyebrow. A couple drops rattled against the plastic walls.
When the movie finished, everyone stood up slowly and lingered, chatting. Derek stood first, then pulled Courtney to her feet. She swayed, and he caught her with an arm around her waist. Lying down, she hadn’t felt a thing from the vodka, but now she realized: she was drunk. Way drunk. She recognized the feeling from the one night she’d been peer-pressured into taking shots.
Across the circle composed of her long-time camp friends and her sworn enemies, Trey put his arm around Riya’s waist. When Riya turned her face toward Trey’s, Courtney looked to Derek.
“Wanna go for a walk?” she asked, tracing slow circles on his muscular back with her fingers.
Derek’s smile lit the night. “Where?”
“Anywhere.”
Derek nodded, and Courtney tossed a lazy hand toward her friends. “Catch y’all later,” she murmured before leading Derek away.
They walked aimlessly. Courtney grabbed Derek’s hand, mainly to steady her path. Her head spun in the quiet of the night.
Courtney broke the silence. “So what do you do for fun, besides woodworking?”
“The usual,” Derek said. “Hanging out. Video games.”
She asked him a couple more questions, and he answered all of them without using a single complete sentence. Before they stepped foot on the long dock, she was already bored with him. That was not a good sign. It usually took a couple of days, at least.
Courtney thought about the talks she’d been sharing in the mornings with Riya. Those blew this one out of the water. Why couldn’t Derek be more like Riya? Courtney giggled, picturing a Riya-Derek face swap.
Halfway down the dock, she decided she wanted to sit down. So she did, without warning. She was too warm, so she dropped her feet into the lake. The cool, dark liquid soothed her omnipresent blisters and bruises. Everything was pretty about a ballerina, except her feet.
Derek paused, staring down at her with his lips slightly parted. “Okay.” He sat next to her.
Courtney gripped the edges of the boards beneath her butt and held tight. Even though she knew the dock was secured into the lake bed, she felt the rocking motion of a boat under her. She locked her gaze onto a light in a window across the lake until it blazed in her vision, steady and still.
Warmth enveloped her bare shoulders, and she realized Derek had put his arm around her.
She sighed. His touch meant nothing to her. His underarm was moist from sweat. She wrinkled her nose. Moist. She hated that word. And now she had underarm sweat on her shoulder.
Courtney rolled her shoulders, shrugging Derek’s arm off. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she giggled.
His forehead wrinkled, and the moonlight cast shadows in the creases. “I…I’m confused.”
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I’m just not interested.” She marveled at how easily the truth formed itself into words, slipping out of her mouth as if they had a mind of their own.
Courtney braced for whatever was about to come. A lot of boys didn’t take being brushed off well, especially when she’d just spent an entire movie in their lap.
“But you were?”
Though Courtney searched for it, she didn’t find bitterness or hostility in his tone. Her shoulders drooped.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re sweet and crazy hot. I thought you could help me forget someone else.” She became convinced that vodka doubled as a truth serum.
“Ah.” Derek smacked his lips. “But it’s not working.”
“Nope.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to do,” he said.
So you can speak in complete sentences. She wasn’t sure if she said that part out loud. “I’m not a very nice girl.”
Derek stared out
over the lake, considering her statement. “We all do wrong things for the right reasons.”
“Not me. I do everything for the wrong reasons.”
Derek offered her a sad smile. “I think you’re a nice girl. You’re just confused.”
“You’re half right.”
“It’s weird,” he said, twisting his lips as he thought. “It’s easier to talk to you now that I know you’re not interested in me. Before, I was so scared of saying the wrong thing.”
Courtney nodded once before deciding that was a terrible idea. It took a count of four before the world stopped moving. “I can be intimidating.” Everyone seemed to be scared of her. Except Riya.
“Ha!” He barked out a single laugh. “True. Plus, I’m a nerd back home. Girls like you don’t talk to me, ever.”
“You are not a nerd,” she said, eyes trailing over his toned arms and the way his soft T-shirt clung to his stomach, hinting at the sculpted abs she and Bridget had whispered about during the volleyball game.
“Why in the world would anyone claim to be a geek when he wasn’t?”
“To get girls?”
Derek laughed so long and so hard that she worried he might never breathe normally again.
“What’s so funny? Geek chic is so in right now.”
He laughed even harder, wrapping a hand around his stomach. The movement drew her attention, and she looked closer at his shirt. What she’d thought was Arabic writing stretched across his chest under “No place like” written in English.
“What does your shirt say?”
His gaze dropped to his chest, and he smiled liked he’d just won an argument. “These are the glyphs on the DHD representing the chevrons needed to travel back to Earth, i.e. home.”
“Huh?” She recognized about half of those words.
“Stargate?”
Courtney shook her head.
“It’s a TV show. That nerds watch.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Keeping Her Secret Page 9
