by Penny Wylder
My feet carry me forward toward their group without a conscious choice, and I can’t take my eyes off Seph as she leans into the stretch. It’s not a dirty position, but oh it gives me dirty thoughts, and I have to chant numbers in my head in order to keep my body under control. That’s the last thing I need in front of campers on the first real day.
One of them sees me, and laughs, which draws other eyes. I smile back, friendly, but I still only have eyes for Seph, who hasn’t noticed that I’m here. But she has noticed the laughter. “I know it’s early, but I promise we’re almost done.”
“I didn’t see sunrise yoga on the list of activities for the day.”
She startles, nearly losing her balance, but recovers and stands. I don’t miss the blush staining her cheeks. “It’s just my cabin,” she says quickly. “I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay,” I say. “I’m amazed you got them out of bed.” I make sure to say that last with a smile. I don’t want them to be offended, but I barely want to be up at this hour.
A couple of the girls are whispering, and one I remember from yesterday—Emily, I think—takes a step forward. “Will you be out here every morning? That might make getting up easier.”
There’s more laughter and nodding agreement, and Seph scrubs a hand across her face.
I clear my throat. “The rounds will be different every day. No guarantees.”
“Too bad,” another girl whispers, followed by giggles.
Okay, going to have to ignore that. I refocus my eyes on Seph. “I’m happy to add this to the schedule if you need anything set up for it.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”
There’s nothing rude about the way she speaks, but her eyes slide past me and she seems…distant. It could be because I interrupted, but I think that it’s more than that.
“Let me know. I’d be happy to help.”
She smiles, but it’s flat. Almost plastic. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Maybe you could lead a class for some of the guys,” Emily says. “That is, if you’re flexible enough to do this.”
“Come on Seph, teach him something and see if he’s good enough.” It’s another girl this time.
“I’m sure that Eric has better things to do with his time,” Seph says, pressing her lips together.
“I don’t know,” Emily says. “Being a camp director has to be difficult. Maybe we should know how fit he actually is to do this job?”
Seph closes her eyes and I see exasperation there. I make a mental note to keep an eye on Emily, because she’s one of those kids that could excel here, or spiral into trouble. “I’ve done yoga before,” I say. “Though I’m not very good. And I already worked out this morning.”
Seph looks at me when I say that, and I follow her eyes down my body and back. She blushes again and I barely contain the grin that causes.
“We’ve only got a little bit of the flow left,” a girl in the back says. “You should finish with us, and Seph can help you.”
I tick an eyebrow upwards, asking the question of her. Does she want me to stay or go? It’s her call. These are her campers, and she has to deal with them the way she’s established. I can’t crush her authority. I also want to make sure that none of these girls think I would ever trample over another counselor’s wishes—especially a female counselor.
I’m not going to do yoga every day with a group of teen girls. There’s no way that’s appropriate. But if I do a few poses, I don’t see the harm. But it’s up to Seph.
She pastes on a bright smile that I know isn’t fully real. “Sure. We just have one more sun salutation left. Everyone back into downward dog. You too,” she says.
When I do yoga I’m not normally in jeans, but I’ll make do. I slip off my shoes as I step onto the yoga mat that she’s vacated, and suddenly I can’t breathe because I’m the closest that I’ve been to her in years and all I want is to reach out and touch her.
I resist.
Stretching out, I get into downward dog. I didn’t lie, I have done yoga before, and I’ve never considered myself particularly good at it. I prefer to run and lift weights—pretty typical for a guy my age. But if I pretend I’m worse than I am for a little help from Seph, I don’t think the universe will hold it against me.
The back of my calves ache with the stretch. I haven’t done this is far too long, and it feels good after my desperation to burn energy this morning. “Sink into this one,” Seph says, “since it’s almost the end.”
Her hands brush my lower back, pressing lightly. “Ease back,” she says quietly. “Try to let your heels touch the ground.”
I try to do what she’s asking but all I can think about is the fact that her hands are on me. “Once you’re settled, raise your right leg behind you off the ground and hold for a breath before stepping up into a lunge.”
This feels familiar, and I follow the steps, stretching into the lunge and rising up. Seph’s hands follow, moving to my shoulders and gently pulling back, helping me stretch into it.
Looking over, I meet her eyes. For the first time this morning she’s looking at me straight on, and there’s suddenly no air left to breathe. Her mouth is moving but I’m not hearing the words that she’s saying, completely relying on her gentle touches to guide me through the motions.
The touches are clinical. Nothing out of bounds or giving anything away, but to me they burn with yearning heat. And I’m close enough to Seph that I can see her breath is a little shorter than it should be too.
I lean back down into the reverse triangle pose, and Seph comes with me, our faces close. So close that I can feel her breath. I can’t take my eyes off her lips. There’s so much I want to say to her. Ask her. But I can’t do that while we have an audience.
Back into downward dog I go, and she moves to steady me. This time her hands are heavier. Pressing more fully, the tips of her fingers digging into my lower back just a little. I want more of that. I want her fingers digging into my back while she’s moaning underneath me.
I shut that thought down. I can’t have it right now, and Seph seems to have the same thought. She steps away from me so suddenly that her sudden absence makes me almost dizzy, and I fall out of the pose to laughter around me.
“I did say that I wasn’t very good at it.”
“Come on girls,” Seph says, with a warmer smile for me this time. “Put the mats away. It’s time for breakfast.”
It takes all the self-control that I have in the world not to reach out and pull her back for a moment, just to talk. And maybe more. But she goes with her campers, and I’m left staring at her walk away, with her ass in those shorts burned into my memory.
I need to find a way to talk to her. Crack that shell that’s grown around her. Because I know that my Seph is still in there. I know it. That girl who stole my heart six years ago is in there. I can see her just beneath the surface, and I need to tell her that she’s still mine.
5
Persephone
Present
Fucking hell, I need to get it together.
I wasn’t thinking that I was going to see Eric this morning, let alone touch him, and now my brain is all out of sorts. How in the hell am I supposed to do this for two months?
He doesn’t seem to be getting the hint that we shouldn’t talk. There’s a reason that Leena wanted us to cut him out, and if she finds out…
The little voice in my head that says but Leena isn’t here, and they’re not together anymore, is getting louder. But I’m not that person. I don’t betray my friends.
I’ve had the argument with myself a bunch of times. That talking to him wouldn’t be the kind of betrayal that it feels like it is—especially since I knew him first. But I’m not sure how to sort out my feelings about it.
I’m not used to the idea of him even being in such close proximity. And the yoga. Holy shit. First, I’m thinking of killing Emily and the other girls in my cabin. Not seriously, but all
they see when they look at Eric is a super-hot older guy. They don’t see our history together and how complicated it is.
They probably could see the tension running between us this morning, even though I did my best to keep it simple and professional. But being close to Eric is like breathing fresh air. It’s invigorating, and even just having my hands on his body has me craving more.
It’s not possible. I know it’s not, but I still want it anyway.
The eggs that are sitting in front of me are no longer appealing. They seem like too much and too heavy. Maybe just a piece of fruit or something. I have a little more than an hour before I have to oversee archery, and even though I just did my full yoga routine, I’m too full of energy. I need to burn of the restlessness from this morning’s encounter. And a swim sounds nice.
I can feel eyes on me from across the dining hall—the same eyes that have been on me since he walked in ten minutes ago. Eric is doing his best to hide it, and so am I, but we’ve been stealing glances at each other, and anyone who’s paying attention would probably see it.
Yeah. Definitely not going to eat eggs right now. I sneak one more glance over at Eric and blush when I find his eyes fixed on mine. If he was just looking at me, maybe that would be different. But it’s the way he’s looking at me that’s the thing. His gaze is full of a hunger that I’m afraid to want, but still do. It’s dangerous. It could consume us both and I know that I’m going to have be the one that keeps us both from burning. I can do that.
I scrape my half-eaten eggs into one of the compost bins and hand over the dishes to the kitchen staff. I spot a bunch of apples in a basket. That sounds fine to my stomach right now. Sure. I can eat a bigger lunch if I’m hungry.
Reaching out, I grab an apple, only realizing after I’ve grabbed it that it was holding up a bunch of the other apples, and they tumble onto the floor with a rumbling sound. The entire room goes quiet for a moment as people look and my whole face and chest flushes red.
I don’t look at Eric. I can’t look at him. Not now.
The sound resumes and the campers and counselors go back to their breakfast, too sleepy or too engrossed in their food to laugh or make a big deal out of it.
I pile the apples back into the basket as quickly as I can before fleeing the dining hall. Escape is the only option. On the way out I grab one of the quick pre-made protein shakes from the counselor’s fridge. Even the apple doesn’t sound appetizing right now.
God, I need to be in the water.
It’s barely been an hour since we finished yoga and the temperature is already spiking. I have enough time, if I hurry. It takes me only a few minutes to throw on my bathing suit and camp clothes over it before heading back out. That’s one of the nice things about swimming in the lake—you don’t have to shower chlorinated water out of your hair.
The bathing suit I’m wearing isn’t one that I would put on if I were going to the beach with my friends. It’s a little more modest. But I still feel good in it. I dump my clothes in a pile on the dock before diving into the calm water.
I remember when I first came to Red Rock Camp, I was terrified of swimming in the lake. The dark water freaked me out and I couldn’t stop thinking about all of the things that could be swimming beneath the surface. But over time I came around. Eric is one of the people that helped me get over that fear, and now I don’t even hesitate when I dive in headfirst.
The water is still cold enough to steal my breath, holding on to the barely-there chill of the morning, and a perfect antidote to the rising heat. And it gives me something to focus on besides Eric’s perfect face and body. The feeling of his muscles on my hands, or the brush of his breath when our faces were close together.
Being that close…it makes me remember more and more, and I’m only human. The closer I get to him, the harder it is to push away those memories. But I have to. It’s the only way.
I push myself harder toward the center of the lake. There should be time for me to make it to the island in the center of the lake and back to the dock a couple of times before I have to get to archery.
Shoving everything out of my mind, I focus on the feel of the water on my skin. On the sound of my heartbeat in my ears. On the rhythm of my breath. On pushing harder and faster.
My muscles burn and it feels good. I touch the shore of the island and flip back, still increasing my speed. When camp is over, I need to swim more at home. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to be like this—free. There are few things in the world that make me feel as powerful as slicing through the water. It seems like there’s nothing in the world that can stop me, and that all the problems in the world fall away.
I reach the dock and turn back. One more circuit. I can make it. I haven’t been in the water this long or forced myself this hard in a while, but it’s okay. I don’t care if I’m sore tomorrow. I’ll have the yoga to stretch it out. Though now that I’ve seen Eric stretching, doing the flow better than he gave himself credit for, all I’m going to be thinking about is him while I do it.
No.
I shove through the water and force myself back toward the dock. No thinking about him. This time is for me. There’s a little pain in my leg and side now, and I may have pushed too hard for the first day. But it’s fine.
Until it’s not fine.
A muscle in my ribs seizes and pulls up spreading pain across my stomach and down into my leg. It’s a cramp. Raising my head, I look at the dock, and I’m too far away for this to be easy. Fuck.
I slow down, trying to use the good side of my body, but the pain flares into full blow agony and my limbs don’t seem to be responding the way I need them to. Is this really happening? Is this how fast drowning accidents happen?
I’m stronger than this. But fuck it hurts. And I’m farther away than I thought. I’m imagining the headline that announces a counsellor’s drowning death at Red Rock Summer Camp with more calm than I thought I would. When faced with death I thought I might freak out a little.
But I can’t focus on anything but swimming. I push with the one arm and the one leg that can function properly. How did this happen? Why am I cramping? The whole thing about eating before swimming is a myth. This shouldn’t have happened. Maybe I pushed myself too hard?
Come on, Persephone. You can do this.
I falter for a second, my head momentarily slips below the water, and that’s when the panic hits. No. Panic isn’t going to help right now. But I can’t stop the way my heart rate skyrockets and the way I gasp for breath.
Do I scream?
I hear something in the water and all those fears I overcame come rushing back in. There’s something in the water and it’s going to take me down with it. No. Not like this.
A body slams into mine, and an arm around my chest and then a voice. “I’ve got you.”
I would know that voice anywhere, and my body relaxes at the same time that my mind panics more. Eric’s arm is around me, and he’s swimming me to shore. I can’t seem to get a handle on the mixture of relief and terror that I have going on right now, but I’m not going to die, and right now that’s a good start.
Though now the embarrassment might kill me.
He slices through the water with me against his chest, and I can feel that he’s still in his clothes. His jeans brush against my legs as he kicks. And then he’s depositing us both on the sand of the shore, our feet still in the shallow water.
Eric is breathing hard and so am I, and I let my body release, trying to recover from the cramp. His arm is slung across my stomach where he collapsed with us, and I should move it. But God, I don’t want to. I like the feeling of breathing up into that weight.
“What happened?” he rasps, voice closer than I expected it to be.
I manage to gasp out. “Cramp. I have no idea why.”
“Fuck, Seph.”
My heart grates at that name. At the familiarity it claims after so long. Anger wells up in my chest, and I know that he just saved my life but I’m suddenly livid
and I can’t be here. Everything still hurts, but I can move. Sitting up, I shove his arm off me and try to stand. I don’t make it on the first try. “Thank you for jumping in after me.”
“I’d always jump in after you. You know that.” He laughs then. “Guess tackling you in the water does less damage than on land.”
I don’t answer, finally making it to my feet. I push away relieving the memory I went through last night. It’s already too clear in my mind. Suddenly I’m very aware of the fact that I’m soaking wet in a bathing suit in front of him, even if the suit is more modest than what I’d normally wear.
“Are you all right,” he asks as I turn toward the dock to grab my clothes.
“I’m fine,” I snap, glancing back at him. Fuck, I wish I hadn’t. He’s soaked from head to toe, hair disheveled with water, and leaning on his elbow like he’s a sailor washed up on the beach. With that hair and those eyes he looks a little like Prince Eric, and it works for him.
Desire pulses deep in my gut, and I have to control my breath not to gasp at the image in front of me, even with his face painted with hurt.
“Why are you doing this, Seph?”
I swallow. “Doing what?”
“Being cold.”
“I’m not.”
He stands and steps closer. “You are, and I want to know why. What did I do wrong? We used to be close, Seph.”
“It’s Persephone,” I say, drawing a line in the sand. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. That was just a long time ago.”
“We have time now,” he says. “I’d like to get to know you again. And I’d like for you to tell me the truth.”
“I am,” I lie, turning away. He doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t follow me.
The truth is something that I can’t tell him, because it still hurts too much, and it will always hurt too much.
Eric Elmore’s mistake was that he made me love him, before I knew that he could never be mine.
