Boyfriend for the Summer (A Second Chance Enemies to Lovers Romance)

by Penny Wylder

  He has to be here, right? The camper is still here, and it belongs to his family. There, I see his dad across the grounds. He has to be here. Mr. Elmore sees me and waves a hand, and I wave back.

  Okay. Okay. He loves the lake. He’s probably gone for one last swim. I’ll go pack my stuff quickly so I’m not rushing for the bus and then I’ll find him. Last night was perfect and beautiful. And even though we’re taking time, that didn’t mean that I don’t want to say goodbye.

  And suddenly three weeks seems like an eternity. Maybe I made a mistake?

  I change my clothes and toss my stuff in my suitcase, packing faster than I’ve ever packed in my life. My heart is pounding. I need to see him one more time. I take care to make sure that the CD he left me is in my shoulder bag so I can listen to it on the bus.

  Dragging my suitcase across the camp grounds is always my least favorite part of leaving camp, but right now I do it in half the time, leaving it near the other collection of suitcases. Mabel is there tracking them, and she takes my name down and what color my suitcase is. “The bus should be back in an hour, dear. Don’t be late.”

  “I won’t. Mabel, I’m looking for Eric? You know, to say goodbye.”

  Mabel freezes. “I’m sorry, Persephone. Eric got on the bus this morning. It was an easy enough run for his mother to drop him at home, and so he went.” She sees my face and pulls me into a quick hug. “Oh, I’m sorry dear. I thought that he would have told you that.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell her. “I’m fine.”

  I can’t say more than that, because I’m already walking away. But I barely turn my back before my face collapses into tears, and I have to get away from here. I need to be alone, and quickly. I don’t want anyone to see me cry, and I’m running.

  People shout at me not to run as I fly past, but I don’t stop. And I find myself panting and out of breath at the waterfall. He left. He didn’t say goodbye. And I did this. I told him three weeks. But he did this too. He could have kissed me one last time. Just in case the worst happens.

  Tears are pouring down my face, and I’m glad that the waterfall is here to mask the sound. I pull my CD player out of my bag and fumble for the disc he left me. Just like I thought it would be, it’s the song he wrote for me. Not the best quality, but it’s enough to listen to. It’s all I have of him right now.

  I close my eyes, turn up the volume, and cry.

  21

  Persephone

  Present

  How could I let myself do this? I’m idiot. The tears are blinding me enough that it takes me longer than it normally would to make it down the path. I try to move quickly, because I’m half-way expecting footsteps to come pounding down the dirt behind me.

  But Eric doesn’t come after me. Just like before. He didn’t fight for me. He left early and didn’t say goodbye. Just like I said, we’re re-living this over again. Like we’re stuck a loop in one of those bad sci-fi movies. But this is real life and it’s far more painful than I thought.

  God, how could I be so stupid?

  Finally, I make it back to my cabin, and I manage to get control of myself enough to sneak in the door quietly. I don’t want the girls to hear me crying. Some of them may have put two and two together about me and Eric and I’m not going to make the rest of their summer as awkward as mine is about to be. Plus, everyone loves Eric, and that’s not fair to him.

  I know teenage girls. I’ve been one. They’ll hold a grudge on my behalf. For my own sake, I don’t need this to be messier than necessary.

  I hit my knee on my dresser in the dark, still not quite used to the layout of my private room, and I curse. But it seems a little karmic for my stupidity.

  It doesn’t matter how long ago that Leena and Eric broke up. They were still together for a long time. The break-up happened just after college. They went to separate colleges, and sometimes it seemed like they weren’t together at all. Until it all blew up, and she erased him from the face of her earth.

  I never told her that Eric and I were together. That he was the guy from camp that I fell head over heels in love with. She just assumed that it was a random guy and that we broke up when the summer was over. She never asked about him when I didn’t bring him up. And I didn’t care, because that would have been harder.

  I can’t remember a world where I haven’t been friends with Leena. She’s always been there for me, and me for her. Senior year, when she and Eric were first together, we were just as inseparable as we always had been. It’s been harder since then, but we’re still close.

  She’s off doing her thing working for a fabulous design agency. She still travels like she did when we were younger, and she’s always promising that she’ll use her connections now to start me on my publishing journey. But that hasn’t happened yet. There are a lot of reasons for it. It’s no one’s fault.

  I don’t even bother to fully change my clothes, just strip to my underwear and climb under the covers. I’m still crying. It’s like a reflex at this point, and I want to feel the pain that’s cracking in my chest. I need to wallow in this misery. Drown in it. So that I can get past it.

  Speaking of Leena, I grab my phone off the nightstand, and there are more texts from her from earlier. I left my phone here during the bonfire because I didn’t want to be disturbed. But there they are.

  Bonfire night! Are you excited?

  Hello? Woman have you died in the woods? Do I need to come get you?

  I smile a little at that. She would come get me if I needed her to. And even though I can’t tell her about Eric and me, I can count on her to at least make me feel a little better. And I want to be able to talk about the fact that he’s here without constantly worrying about stepping on her toes.

  You still awake?

  A laughing emoji comes through. Girl, it’s Friday night of course I’m still awake.

  It’s midnight. Which is late at camp, but in Leena’s glamorous world the night is just beginning. She texts again.

  How you holding up out there?

  I’m okay. It’s a crazy memory train.

  I was thinking about that today, she writes. Kind of wish that I was out there too. The waterfall and the s’mores. Getting away from it all. It would be a nice break.

  Yeah. Everywhere I turn is complete déjà vu. I tell her. But I don’t think that you would want to be here right now.

  Frowning face and crying face. Why? I can still rough it.

  Eric is here.

  Eric who?

  Eric Elmore, I say.

  There’s such a long pause in her texting that I think that she’s completely passed out. Or maybe she actually was in bed and fell asleep. But then suddenly the texts start coming hard and fast.

  WHAT?!

  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

  What the fuck is that bastard doing at Red Rock? That motherfucker better have a damn good reason.

  Fucking moron.

  Sucks for you that you have to spend the summer near someone who brings the average IQ in the room down to zero.

  Even through the pain, her vitriol is shocking. She’s never really wanted to talk about Eric or why they broke up, even though it was almost two year ago now. The fact that she still feels that strongly…what the fuck happened?

  Jesus Leena. A little harsh much? It’s been a long time.

  No time is too long for an asshole.

  …I guess not. But it’s been almost two years, right? Wouldn’t you want him to be happy now? You’ve moved on.

  Leena isn’t with anyone, but she’s the social butterfly. She’s had plenty of boyfriends, and I know that she’s happy with the way her life is. She doesn’t want to be pinned down—or so she tells me.

  Why? she asks. Is he dating someone?

  I’m not sure, I say. I’m not getting into that. Maybe.

  He is, isn’t he. It’s not a question. Who is it? One of those fucking slutty teenagers? What a creep.

  I roll my eyes in the dark, and I add the emoji to the text for emp
hasis. No, of course not! I think it’s just someone our age.

  Whatever. Of course he can do whatever he wants, the cocksucker. But I know he’ll never get over me. He never gets over me. Every time he walks away he comes crawling back like the pathetic worm that he is.

  I didn’t know that it had happened multiple times. But wow. As furious as I am with the whole situation, that’s honestly not how I expected things to go. What do I say to that? I know Eric. I know him. And he knows me.

  He’s not any of those things that she called him. Whatever happened between them had to be bad, if she’s still that pissed about it. I want to know, and yet I don’t want to know.

  I’m curious, but I can’t take any more of him being ground into the dust by Leena’s words. I’m too sad for that. It’s already too hard.

  I don’t respond to her message, and put the phone back on the nightstand, screen down so I can’t see the light. There’s the sound of vibrations on the wood as she keeps texting, but I ignore it. I turn away from it, and let myself cry until I fall into sleep.

  22

  Eric

  Present

  This day is shit. Last night was shit. Everything is shit.

  It’s the hottest day of the year so far, and even with fans pointing at me it’s nearly unbearable. I’m answering emails in my cabin and enjoying the relative peace.

  Some of the staff have gone into town for the weekly supply and mail run, and I’m glad it’s the weekend. Because I feel awful. I didn’t move for a long time after Seph left the waterfall, and I could barely sleep.

  Seph is mine. The statement is still so true that I don’t doubt it. She’s mine and I am hers. It’s the only way any of this makes sense.

  I refuse to believe that there’s a way that we can’t get past this. There has to be a way. I need to convince her that it’s always been her, because it has. Leena never made me feel the way Seph did. Does. And I was with her half the time out of obligation. The few times we hooked up over the past couple years were stupid mistakes that I made, desperate and sometimes drunk. I regret them.

  But Seph is so convinced that it’s a barrier. How do you tell someone that the person who is their best friend in the world isn’t the person that they think that they are?

  The fan next to me dies, and I look over. Did the plug fall out? No, it’s still plugged in. I look at my laptop, and the little battery charger symbol isn’t working. Shit.

  Fuck. Shit.

  Please don’t tell me that what just happened just happened.

  I stride out onto the porch of my cabin, examining the dark clouds in the sky. The air is thick and humid—we’re probably going to have a thunderstorm this afternoon. But my stomach curls with dread when I already see a few counselors heading my way.

  “Generator?” I call.

  “Yeah.”

  I sigh. This is the last thing that I need right now. “Do we know what the problem is?”

  “Looks like it’s just the plug into the building. The generator itself is working, but the power isn’t going anywhere.”

  Not good. The generator powers the entire camp. Including the kitchen. I need to get that fixed, but I’ll have to wait. Because the only vehicle that’s left at camp right now is the bus, and I haven’t had a chance to get a new tire. I can’t drive all the way to town on a donut. Not on the kind of roads there are around here. And I can’t call the staff to pick this up. It’s a different town which has the hardware store.

  The universe really loves me today.

  “I’ll try to get it fixed before dinner,” I say. “Do we have enough stuff for a cold lunch?” It’s about the time when lunch starts being served.

  The counselor nods. “We’ll make it work.”

  “Okay.”

  Hands on my hips, I lean my head back to the sky. God, the last thing I want to do right now is this. I want to go back inside and sleep off the pain that’s underlying everything. The desperation to change how last night ended. Especially after the mind-blowing, perfect sex that told me I’m more in love with Seph than ever.

  “My car is here,” A voice says from behind me. “I can drive you.”

  I turn to find the very object of my thoughts standing there. And it is no consolation to me that she looks no better than I do. Dark circles and puffy eyes. Her night and morning have been just as bad as mine. I want to haul her against my body and make both of our pain go away. My instincts are screaming that the way to make this better is to touch her. Hold her. And I fucking can’t.

  “I can wait,” I say.

  She sighs. “We’re adults, Eric. This sucks, but we need power. I can spend a couple of hours in a car with you, even after everything.”

  I manage a small smile at that. “All right. I appreciate it. Let me grab my wallet.”

  “I’ll go get my keys.”

  I want to pull her back as she walks away. Circle her in my arms and kiss her. I love you. It’s always been you. Always.

  We meet in the parking lot, and we slip into her little blue sedan. I didn’t know she had a car here. Most of the counselors don’t. It’s easier to just use the camp vehicles and leave their cars for their families to use over the summer. But I’m glad that this one is here, whatever the reason.

  It’s silent at first. Neither of us know what to say right now. And it grates on my nerves. The atmosphere doesn’t seem particularly tense, but it’s not comfortable either. Finally, I reach forward and press the button for the stereo. Music suddenly blares from the speakers. Loud and brassy and bright. It’s summer pop. A more recent artist. In fact, the artist that I played the other night for the bonfire.

  I loved playing that song. But this doesn’t really seem like Seph’s type of music. I glance over at her and smile. “Really?” I’m imagining her driving and singing at the top of her lungs, widows down and hair swirling, and I love that image.

  “Don’t judge me for my music choices,” she says. But the words aren’t sharp. “I know you love her too.”

  “She’s a good musician. And very kind.”

  Seph suddenly looks over at me, before jerking her eyes back to the road. “How do you know that?”

  “I met her.”

  I watch Seph’s eyes fly into her hair. “On the music circuit I guess?”

  “You could say that,” I smirk. “That song that I played. The first one at the bonfire.”

  “Yeah.” Seph reaches for the radio and clicks through the songs on the album until the beginning of it supposed to play. “What about it?”

  “I wrote it.”

  “What?” Her voice fills the car. “Are you serious?”

  I laugh. “Completely.”

  “Eric, everybody knows this song. It’s one of the best ones out there right now.”

  “That’s kind of you to say.”

  She shakes her head. “It should be yours. Why isn’t it yours?”

  I shrug. “Because in music you have to pay a lot of dues, and record labels don’t always take chances on brand new artists, even if your songs are good.”

  “It should be you.”

  “I’m still hoping that it will be,” I say quietly.

  We return to silence, the ballad filling the air between us. But the atmosphere in the car is more relaxed than it was. “Let me know if you need to crack some heads,” she says. “I’m more than willing to come to New York and kick some ass.”

  I laugh loudly at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “They’ve never come face to face with true Georgia stubbornness,” she says as we pull into the parking lot of the hardware store.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “New Yorkers are kind of known for their immovable personalities.”

  Seph steps out of the car. “Try me.”

  “I believe you,” I say, grinning.

  Why can’t it always be like this? This kind of thing between us is sweet and easy, and it’s always been this way. We’ve never had trouble talking.

  Thankfully
the part I need isn’t hard to find in the store. Generators are commonplace out here. It only takes a few minutes, and that’s good. Things are hot enough as it is, I don’t want the kitchen staff to be out of power for too long.

  Heading back out to the car, I glance at the sky. The clouds are darkening, and I bet that the rain is coming soon.

  This little hardware store is on the outskirts of the little town, and other than the clerk inside the store, there are no other cars, and no other people in sight. Sometimes it’s shocking to remember how truly isolated we are out here.

  Seph is leaning against the car, looking at me, and she has a bright little package in her hands. I stop in my tracks. Starbursts. She remembers the Starbursts. “Where did you get those?”

  She points to a vending machine on the outside of the building. “Thought it might be a little peace offering.”

  My soul sags in relief. “I’ll take it.”

  She hands me a red one, and she takes a pink one, and we chew them together, and I don’t look away from her eyes. The space between us feels tight, and we reach for each other at the same time. Our mouths crash together, tasting of fruit and sugar, and I devour her. She devours me too. It’s desperate and angry and sad and a thousand things at once. It’s so good to touch her, but at the same time…

  “Seph, what does this mean?”

  Her voice shakes. “I don’t know.”

  “We can do this.” I make the promise to her.

  There are tears in her eyes again. “We really can’t, Eric.”