Three hours later, sweat dripped down the back of my neck. I moved across the semi-clean floor of cabin two, glancing at dust-covered cobwebs scattered along exposed beams overhead.
The windowsills, however, were cobweb-free, and the windows were open, welcoming fresh air instead of the cabin’s former musty aroma.
A guitar’s steady rhythm drifted through the wall on my right. Grant had been playing for at least thirty minutes, the tempo switching from fast to slow and back. I stood, hands on my hips, as my ears strained to recognize the song. Nothing.
Letting out a long sigh, I returned my attention to the room. Beds, bathroom, and cobwebs were the only things between ultimate success and me. Problem was, two of those things I could handle on my own. Finding the bedding was a whole different dilemma. Grant hadn’t spoken to me since breakfast. If I had any hope of getting the beds made, I would have to ask Kira or Loraine.
With the bathroom a necessary must-do, I tackled it first. As I stood on the grimy tile floor, daddy longlegs hanging around me, that decision started to seem less and less smart.
“Why are there so many spiders?!” I said, grabbing a broom.
I took down as many cobwebs as possible, then scrubbed the floors until the grimy layer had shifted into something less disgusting. Once I could safely navigate the bathroom, I tossed the mop bucket in one of the showers and took to the walls.
By the time the bathroom was functional, Grant’s guitar playing had stopped. I gathered the cleaning supplies and carried them back into the main room, setting them near the entrance before heading straight for the door.
The screen slammed behind me and the wooden porch creaked as I walked to Grant’s side. His door was propped open and the inside was arctic enough I could feel the breeze from outside.
“Have you frozen to death?” I said, staring at him through the screen.
Lying atop a plaid comforter, with one hand behind his head and a book in the other, he glanced at me. “You aren’t that lucky,” he said, before returning to his book.
I stayed rooted to the porch, shifting my weight on my feet. Grant continued reading, ignoring me completely.
“I’m not trying to be annoying,” I said after a moment. “But can you tell me where I could find my bedding? I could ask Kira, but I figured I would try to make this co-counselor thing work.”
“Like you made it work this morning?” he said, fidgeting with the brim of his hat.
“Grant.”
He closed his book before laying it on top of a plastic organizer beside his bed. “I guess the better question is: What’s in it for me if I help you?” he said. “You haven’t brought much to this partnership.”
“Because I don’t have much to offer. Remember?” I said, watching him as he stood from his bed.
He moved slow, tennis shoes squeaking against polished wood floors. His side of the cabin was completely dirt-free. How he managed that was a mystery.
“You were off base this morning, questioning me on my ability to do this job,” he said, learning against the door frame.
“You were off base yesterday,” I said.
He arched a brow.
“Okay, so you weren’t off base, but it was messed up for you to just outright tell me how incapable of doing this job I am. I know I’m incapable, but you didn’t have to throw it out there. You could’ve kept it to yourself and just said it in your head or something.”
“If you want things sugarcoated, you’ve got the wrong guy.”
“So you’re just a dick twenty-four seven? You never tone it down? Even when you see someone who’s clearly struggling?”
“You’re trying to guilt-trip me into feeling bad,” he said, shaking his head. “But it won’t work. You were equally feisty yesterday, and struck me as the kind of girl who could take that kind of honesty. If you can dish it, you can take it.”
“Something you need to remember when people call you out, like I did this morning,” I said, crossing my arms.
Grant paused, his neutral expression shifting after a minute. “You’re going to make this summer difficult, aren’t you?”
“Not if you don’t call me out for being sensitive, then turn around and act that way,” I said. “You get what you dish out. It’s fair.”
“That is fair, but let’s get one thing straight,” he said. “I never said you had nothing to offer.”
“It was implied,” I said, studying him.
“Maybe we were both in the wrong.”
“Maybe,” I said, looking at him.
He opened the screen door, and the air inside was at least ten times colder than mine. Inside, two rows of metal-framed twin-sized beds boasted navy-and-white checkered bedspreads. Besides the solitary Camp Kenton flag hanging above the counselor bed, the cabin was devoid of decoration. Once I got my beds set up, the only advantage he would have were cleaner floors and a better-organized room.
“Will you tell me where to find the bedding?” I said, looking at him again.
“I would’ve shown you yesterday, had you decided to work on your cabin rather than getting yourself lost,” he said.
“That was yesterday,” I said. “How ’bout we focus on the here and now? Where should I check? The counselor cabin or camp office?”
“Neither,” he said.
“Laundry room?”
“Negative,” he said. “And, before you ask, they aren’t in the mess hall or any of the other buildings.”
“What did y’all do, ship them off for dry cleaning?” I said, crossing my arms.
“Um, no,” he said. “They were washed prior to us getting here, stored in the counselor cabin until ready for pickup, and currently lie with yours truly. I grabbed your set yesterday, when I grabbed mine. That’s what responsible co-counselors do.”
“Great. Fork them over,” I said, holding out my hand.
“Which would take away any and all leverage I currently hold,” he said, smiling. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I let out a long sigh, irritation bubbling. “Look,” I said. “I’ve had a day full of scrubbing that side of the cabin and I’m literally a handful of comforters away from being prepped for campers. Give me my sheets and quit being difficult.”
“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “First you need to squeeze in the mandatory CPR training and get the other necessary credentials you were supposed to have before you came out here.”
“Are you kidding?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We were making such great progress and now you want to swoop in and wreck it?”
“What?” he said. “You might have pulled your cabin together, but you’ve still got a million other things to do before you’re actually ready for campers. I’m just being a realist.”
“No, you’re being a jerk!” I said, throwing up my hands.
“I’m not being a jerk,” he said, hurrying after me. “You’re being sensitive again.”
“Sensitive?!” I turned on him, eyeing his smug expression with clenched fists. “I literally came here for bedding and all I got was another go-around with you. For crying out loud, you can’t even have one conversation with me without being negative. I’m untrained. I get it. I’m incapable. I get it. But I’m here to stay. Get over it!”
I hurried down the steps, landing on the dirt with a thud. If he couldn’t even help me with bedding, how on earth was he supposed to help me with campers?
“Why are you running?” he said, dirt crunching beneath his feet.
“Because every time I’m around you, you find a new way to annoy the hell out of me.”
He slid in front of me as I passed cabin one, blocking my path.
“Get out of my way,” I said, trying to dodge him.
“I feel like you’re blowing this way out of proportion,” he said, blocking me again.
I stopped, glaring at two burning hazel eyes as they watched me beneath the brim of his cap. He was gorgeous, despite his personality flaws, but trying to deal with someone as hotheaded and stubborn as Grant wasn’t worth it. I had money on the line. He had nothing.
“You can get out of my way, or I’ll get you out of my way,” I said.
“Alex.”
“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.”
“Here we go again,” he said, letting me pass.
Counselors, most of whom were more than ready for campers, sat on the counselor cabin’s porch. I walked the path to the main office, glancing at Kira as Grant slowed his pace. She could be his co-counselor. She was better equipped to put up with him.
Classic country drifted through screened-in windows. I took the steps two at a time and then rapped my fist against the door rapidly. The door opened seconds later. Loraine stood on the other side, her smile dropping as I pushed my way in.
“Do you have a minute?” I said, turning on her before the door was even closed. “Better question: Do you have a replacement for the terrible co-counselor you stuck me with?”
Loraine froze in place, her glasses low on her nose.
“Because he’s making me question my college fund. I’d rather drop out of school and be broke than try to spend the summer with Grant,” I said.
“Sit down,” she said, crossing the room.
Sandwiched by a copier, fax machine, and two rows of filing cabinets, Loraine’s office had too many mountains of papers and hardly any organization; it was surprisingly chaotic given her otherwise put-together demeanor.
I plopped into one of the oversized chairs across from her desk, letting out a long exhale as I sat forward. “Let’s cut to the chase, Loraine. I’m not qualified to be a counselor and you know it. Give me a job I can do, and put me out of my misery before campers get here and make everything ten times harder.”
She took a seat in a rolling leather chair, staring at me. “Who said you weren’t qualified?” she said, an edge in her tone.
“It’s common knowledge,” I said, frowning. “I’m the least capable counselor you have, and more of a hindrance than anything.”
“You aren’t a hindrance,” she said, shaking her head. “You can relate to these kids on a level most can’t. Certifications aside, you’ll be a great counselor. If someone has an issue with it, they’re more than welcome to take it up with me. I’m here all day, every day.”
I pulled my lip between my teeth. Her confidence far exceeded my own. “You and I both know Grant would be better off paired with someone who can tolerate him. That isn’t me. Give him someone else. Give me a break.”
“This summer isn’t supposed to be an easy one,” she said, straightening. “It’s supposed to be a learning lesson. You and Grant just need to figure out how to work as a cohesive pair. I think you’ll find you actually have more in common than either of you realize.”
“We have nothing in common!” I said, scowling. “Talking to him is like talking to a wall. Talking to him makes me want to beat my head against a wall.”
“Grant is the most qualified counselor I have,” Loraine said, quirking a brow. “He’s the only option for a co-counselor. Sorry, but that’s reality.”
“Putting up with him isn’t worth that much money,” I said, sighing.
Loraine eyed me behind her glasses, the look somewhere between sympathetic and annoyed. She looked too much like my mother for me to be comfortable. Another set of issues on an ever-growing list.
“I think you and Grant just need time to get to know each other,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Give it more than a few days. If you’re still having issues, we’ll sort it out then.”
“How am I supposed to get to know him when we all he does is nitpick me?” I said. “He’s hot. I appreciate that. But he’s literally the most annoying human I’ve ever met. Are you trying to set me up for failure?”
“Not even close,” she said. “Despite how you feel about him, pairing you with Grant is setting you up for success. He knows how to handle these kids, and trust me when I say you’ll need a partner who can do that. If I can’t get to you quick enough, he can. He’s a nonnegotiable. You’re paired with him or you’re not here at all.”
“Another ultimatum,” I said, fists balling at my sides.
“I know you don’t like it, but you can either figure out a way to make it work with him or you can go home,” she said. “The choice is up to you.”
She faced her computer. Dolly Parton’s southern drawl was deafening as I stalked to the door. This catch-22 from hell left me on the crappy end of everyone’s options. I could deal with Grant or leave. Stay at camp, go to boarding school, or lose my money. There was no winning situation.
I took the long way to my cabin, brushing along the tree line that ran the edge of camp. Navigating the summer with someone like Grant was like painting in the dark. There was no way to identify the colors—no way to know what picture I would get.
A gazebo sat in the space between the cabins and the pool, its wooden structure decorated with lights hung from the ceiling. In the daylight, they did little in the way of decoration. I plopped onto one of the wooden benches and stared at the cabins, mulling over my options.
That money was rightfully mine. After the year I’d had—the trauma I’d survived—letting someone like Grant get to me was like failing myself. I’d earned this. I deserved something good, out of a year full of hell.
Too much time passed before I dragged myself off the bench. I swiped sweaty hands against my shorts and headed for the cabins in the distance, resigned to my fate. If Grant was the only counselor option, we would have to make it work. This summer was more important than the issues between us.
The road leading past the cabins had counselors on either side, but I slumped up the stairs toward my side with no energy to try to be social. Tomorrow I would make that effort. Tomorrow I would try to be something other than strong-willed and stubborn.
I slowed as I reached the screen door on the girls’ side, cocking my head as I surveyed the door, propped open by the metal latch at the top. Cold air flowed through to the outside, and the contents inside were way different than when I left.
Slowly, I crossed the threshold. My mouth fell open as I turned a circle, studying the beds. Lined in two rows, six twin-sized beds had buffalo-plaid comforters carefully draped over them. Beige linens showed beneath each; matching red-and-black pillows carefully rested on top.
The counselor bed had the same comforter and sheet set, but a white pillow with Camp Kenton’s emblem in the center was placed neatly against the headboard. As I crossed the room, the smell of Pine-Sol was thick in the air. Even the floors wore a deep chestnut color I hadn’t been able to uncover, polished to perfection and far cleaner than when I left.
As I slowed in front of the counselor bed, my eyes landed on a piece of paper lying against the pillow. I picked it up; the messy scrawl was hardly legible.
Had to prop the door open. My Pine-Sol to water mixture was too thick. You’re welcome.—Grant.
My cheeks flushed as I stared back at the door, shock and awe flitting their way across my mind. If he went through all this trouble, it had to be for a reason. Either guilt got to him, or Loraine did.
Regardless, it was a step in the right direction. If he could try, so could I.