“I thought you agreed to try!” I said, racing down the court.
Campers crowded the pavilion benches, their cheers echoing off the rafters. Tonight’s counselor basketball game was the main event, drawing every camper from every cabin. Unfortunately, we were losing. Our agreement to figure things out, despite our co-counselor status, hadn’t done anything to help my basketball skills.
“I did. I tried to sub you out,” Grant said, slowing with the ball. “Kira isn’t ready to come in. Not my fault.”
I rolled my eyes and took my spot beneath the basket. Kira’s freshly rolled ankle had sent me out on the court with no substitutes in sight. It didn’t matter that the right side of my body was crying out for relief. The court and this game were my current options.
Grant dribbled the ball, sweat rolling down his neck as he surveyed his options. He held the ball, looking at the basket as he attempted to hit the same top corner shot he taught me about a few days before.
Erica caught the miss and carefully dribbled the ball as she sprinted the opposite way.
“I feel like I’m about to die,” I said, heaving in a breath. “My body is pissed.”
“We’ve got about two minutes left,” Grant said, chuckling as he jogged beside me. “Can you make it that long?”
“That depends. Does lying on the sidelines, trying to breathe, qualify as defense?”
He increased his pace, guarding the male junior counselor who was eagerly clapping for the ball. The difference between his height and Grant’s was ridiculous. Grant easily stole the ball, then did a behind-the-back dribble as he took off toward our hoop.
“Nope, not running,” I said, clutching my sides.
Grant made the basket easily and gave one of the guy counselors a high five as he hurried my way. “You aren’t supposed to stay here while everyone else is over there,” he said, reaching half-court. “Pretty sure that’s called being offsides.”
“I don’t care. All this running is going to kill me,” I said.
The guy counselor from cabin one had the ball again. He dribbled, darting looks our way as he maneuvered through the players.
“Alex!” he yelled, throwing the ball straight at me.
My hand shot out with a smack, the rubber hitting my palm before I registered the movement. “I have the ball!” I said, panicking.
“Run!” Grant said, nudging me forward.
I did my best to remember Grant’s dribbling tips, but quickly found myself tripping over the ball. Luckily, he hadn’t given me more than a foot of space. He rescued the ball before it fell into the other team’s hands, dribbling quickly toward the basket before the other team could take their spots.
Loraine blew her whistle as he was putting up the shot, signaling for stop of play.
“Time!” she hollered with a smile. “Game goes to the blue team.”
“Holy crap, we won!” I said, throwing my hands up. It didn’t matter if I had contributed or not. My sweaty blue jersey was proof.
“We won!” I repeated, spotting Grant as he carried the ball across the court.
He handed it off to Loraine, then shook the other team’s hands before grabbing a bottle of water from the bench. He downed it in one gulp, his jersey clinging to his abdomen as sweat rolled down the planes of his face.
“He’s so hot,” Brie said behind me, clapping me on the shoulder as she came to a stop.
I nodded in agreement, peeling my eyes away despite really wanting to stare.
“Apparently he’s also really good at basketball,” Jess said, joining us with my other two campers in tow. “I didn’t think he could game like that, but he’s got some talent.”
“He’s obviously the reason y’all won,” Brie said, nodding. Jess elbowed her in the side, earning a glare. “What? Alex is cool, but basketball is not her thing.”
“Her team still won,” Jess said through gritted teeth. “How about you quit critiquing and jump to the celebration part. You remember that, don’t you?”
“Oh, right,” Brie said, nodding. She looked at me, grinning. “The girls and I figured out the perfect way to end tonight. Hint: baby oil.”
“Already got the tarp secured,” Jess said, nodding.
I paused, trying to rack my brain for answers. Nothing came to mind.
“Clue me in a little bit more,” I said. “What were we doing with the baby oil and the tarp?”
“Seriously injuring,” Jess answered. She lowered her voice as Loraine walked by, waiting until she was out of earshot to speak again. “We never retaliated for them toilet papering our cabin, remember? Tonight is their hike to the lake. Their side of the cabin will be free.”
“It has to happen tonight,” Brie added. “We won’t get another shot at it.”
“What has to happen tonight?” Grant said, quirking an eyebrow as he stopped beside me. His hand rested on my shoulder, heating my sweaty skin.
“Game night,” Jess said on the fly. “Monopoly, Uno, maybe even a round of checkers.”
“Thrilling,” Grant said with a nod. He raked his free hand through his hair, tugging it messily away from his scalp.
“The perfect way to wind down,” I said, my insides melting at his staggering good looks.
“I mean, it isn’t as cool as a fishing trip,” Brie said.
“Our counselor didn’t get us approved for that,” Steff said.
“Um, I tried and was rejected,” I said, holding up a hand. “Loraine said it’s against camp policy to have any type of coed night trip. When it comes to hanging out with the boys, we’re limited to all-camp activities. Not my fault.”
“Forgot. Loraine is afraid of anyone sneaking off,” Brie said, rolling her eyes. “Like we can’t figure out a way to sneak out. Pft.”
“Don’t bring me into that conversation,” I said, cringing. “The less I know about how and when you sneak out the better.”
“Rectangular,” Brie said, stepping away.
Grant’s brow furrowed as he watched her leave. “I’m guessing that’s the one you had the issues with?”
“Yes,” I said, shaking my head. “But I’ve learned to accept her how she is and move on. There’s no reason fighting something I can’t fix.”
“Wow. Is this a new version of Alex I’m just now getting to see?” Grant said, attempting to put a hand to my forehead.
I batted him away, pointing at him instead. “I blame all that running you made me do. My brain isn’t getting enough oxygen. I’m not thinking clearly.”
“It’s basketball. You’re required to run.”
“You couldn’t have kept it on one side of the court longer than ten seconds?”
“It’s called a shot clock,” he said. “If I don’t shoot, there’s a penalty.”
“There is no clock,” I said. “There isn’t even a scoreboard.”
“There’s a clock in my head,” he said. He brushed a kiss to my lips, earning oohs and ahhs as his guys passed behind us.
“Shut up,” he said, waving them on. “You act like you’ve never seen PDA.”
“Not among the counselors,” Loraine said, closing the distance.
My cheeks heated as she surveyed Grant, then me, her glasses riding low on her nose. Her annoyed expression looked exactly like my mom’s.
“I get that Alex is new here, but Grant knows about our counselor rules and expectations,” she said, looking at us. “You’re the examples. Cut it out in public. Okay?”
“Sorry,” Grant said. “I wasn’t thinking about—”
“It happens,” she said, stopping him. “You’re teenagers. You spend a lot of time together. I don’t need the justification. I just need it not to happen in public, especially when your campers are around. PDA limitations are hard to enforce when the counselors won’t even abide by the rules. Okay?”
“I didn’t know,” I said. “Promise it won’t happen again.”
“Thanks.”
She patted me on the shoulder as she passed, leaving an awkward tension in her wake. I wasn’t aware of the no PDA rule, but now that I knew about it I could make sure any kissing was done in private. Grant aside, I was still here for a reason. Intentionally breaking a rule wouldn’t help me any. The last thing I needed was Loraine reporting my PDA to my parents.
Grant shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at me.
“It’s fine,” I said, speaking first. “She didn’t seem super mad.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he said. He raked his hand through his hair again, stepping backward. “I’ve seen her mad and that wasn’t it. Still, I don’t want to give her a reason to put either of us on her radar. I’ve got some ties to camp. The last thing I need is one of them getting wound up that I’m out here breaking the rules.”
“What ties?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “The point is, I don’t want to get on Loraine’s bad side. She’s yelled at me before. I didn’t know someone’s face could get that red. It’s a terrifying sight for a fourteen-year-old.”
“Hold up,” I said, raising a hand. “When did you start coming here? Was that your first year or—”
“I started when I was thirteen,” he said, grabbing another bottle of water from the bench. “Tapped out at the max age at fifteen. Started junior counseling at sixteen.” He motioned toward the path, twisting the lid as he walked.
“And?” I said after a second, realizing he wasn’t continuing with the story.
“And what?” he said, taking a long swig.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Why were you out here? What were you getting yelled at about? Details.”
“What kind of details are you looking for?” he said, glancing at me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Anything. Everything. Say it all.”
He glanced to his right. Our campers were already headed back toward camp, the area clearing by the second. “I’ll skip the details of why I was out here,” he said, looking at me again, “but she was yelling at me for skinny-dipping in the lake. It’s a long story involving a dare. Pretty boring in hindsight.”
I laughed out loud. “Are you kidding me?!”
“No. That little scheme got me sent home before I could even explain myself,” he said. “You should’ve seen my mom when I walked through the front door a month early. She flew me all the way back here and demanded I apologize. I guess Loraine realized how much shit I was in for if I stayed in Austin. She let me come back, under the agreement I’d settle down.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “I never saw that coming, Grant.”
“Oh, I have my stories. Just like I know you have yours,” he said, closing the bottle. “Don’t think I didn’t hear about that mishap you shared with your cabin. Stealing a cop car is nothing compared to skinny-dipping.”
The blood seemed to drain from my body, depriving my brain of oxygen and fuel.
“What did you say?” I said.
“You. Cop car,” he said, still walking. “My guys told me all about it. Don’t worry. I squashed the conversation immediately. I’m just surprised I heard it from them first.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, freezing. “What are you talking about?”
“The conversation you had with your cabin,” Grant said, stopping too. “I guess it happened the night y’all snuck out. One of the girls shared it with one of my guys. He shared it with another. It was a pretty popular conversation topic, until I figured out who they were talking about and ended it before anyone else got the details. I’m guessing that’s what you used to relate to them? Good idea.”
My fists clenched at my sides and all the blood rushed to my face. What I told my girls, I told them in confidence. It was meant to give us common ground, not to be spread around camp like petty gossip.
“I can’t believe them!” I said, the words spilling out an octave higher than normal. “That was private. They literally had no respect for my privacy, or me wanting to tell my story on my own time. What is that?!”
“It’s not a big deal,” Grant said, his voice annoyingly passive. “Besides, if you didn’t want them talking about it, you shouldn’t have told them.”
“If I’d known they planned on sharing it with everyone else, I wouldn’t have!” I let out a long breath, shaking my head. “So I guess you’re expecting the whole story now, since you’ve gotten the secondhand account and everything?”
“Um, I never asked for the story,” he said, shaking his head. “As far as I’m concerned, you stole a cop car. You made a mistake. You’re human. No one out here is perfect. I’m damn sure not. Heck, I would even bet Loraine has screwed up a time or two.”
“Loraine is perfect,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.
“Okay, then she’s perfect,” Grant said. “Regardless, it’s in the past. You’ve done things you aren’t proud of. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I guarantee you most of the campers out here have had brushes with the law. We do things. There are consequences. We learn. The end.”
Guilt settled in my stomach. It wasn’t that simple. Not when some of the consequences lay in a gray area that could haunt you forever.
“And I’m not out here to judge you for what you have and haven’t done right,” he said. “I like you for who you are now. That’s it.”
“You’re giving me a free pass,” I said, frowning.
“No, I’m not. You’re just choosing to stew on things you can’t change. Why? What does that get you other than frustration and more what ifs?”
“Now you sound like Madeline,” I groaned.
He paused, his brow raised. “You’re seeing Madeline?”
“Loraine thought it was necessary to cram the same kind of therapy sessions down my throat that she does with the campers,” I said. “Not that it makes a difference. We’ve gone around and around every time we talk.”
“Because you don’t answer her questions?” Grant said, grinning.
“Because she’s nosy and I don’t feel like answering her questions.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at me. “Sometimes you really remind me of myself. I had the exact same approach to my therapy sessions, except back in the day the camp therapist was a little more of a hard-ass than she is.”
“And did you talk to them?” I said.
“Not until I had to.” His attention shifted to the path. “It’s a complicated story, but I’ll make you a deal. You go out with me tomorrow night and I’ll explain it to you then.”
“Tomorrow isn’t my night off.”
“I’ll get it worked out,” he said. “Just agree to go so I don’t plan everything and then get rejected.”
“I like you too much to reject you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He winked, then stepped away as he talked. “You. Me. Tomorrow. Deal?”
“Deal,” I said. “And I expect the rest of that story.”
“You’ll get it.”