An hour and a half of mentally running back and forth between Grant’s motives had me lying on my newly made bed with my eyes on the ceiling and zero answers. Why had he gone through the effort of helping me? Was it fear of Loraine? Guilt? An attempt at getting my forgiveness?
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head, eyes still on the ceiling. Lying here thinking about the situation was getting me nowhere. The only one with an actual answer was Grant. If he wasn’t asleep.
I hauled myself off the mattress and crossed the room slowly, then hauled open the screen door to the dark. The porch creaked as I continued to the other side, hesitating as I studied his door. I stared at the door too long to be reasonable, then raised my hand and knocked quietly.
“This is stupid,” I mumbled, taking a step back. “He’s sleeping. He’s totally passed out and here I am, waking him up, and for what? For the sake of being—”
“Completely and utterly annoying?” Grant said from behind me, making me jump.
I spun, clutching my chest as he let out a deep laugh.
“I was wondering when you would be by to say thank you,” he said, crossing the porch. His shirt clung to his body; a towel was draped around his neck and the smell of chlorine was thick on him.
“I really thought you would be by before ten o’clock, but that’s what I get for guessing.” He stopped in front of me, crossing his arms. “Unless I’ve misjudged your reason for being here.”
“I would’ve come sooner, but I was trying to figure out who you are and what you did with Grant,” I said, shaking my head.
“It’s called a peace offering,” he said. “I’m good at pushing people’s buttons, but worse at apologizing. I hope that was enough to get my point across.”
“It was,” I said, nodding.
“Good,” he said, moving for his door. He pulled it open, glancing inside. “I’m going to throw this towel on the rack and put on a clean shirt. Was that all you wanted, or did you need something else?”
“No,” I said, stepping backward. “I was just coming to say thank you.”
“Nothing about a counselor switch?” he said, raking a hand through his hair.
“You aren’t that lucky,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re stuck with me, zero counselor abilities and all.”
“Lucky me,” he said, stepping inside the cabin.
“Lucky you,” I repeated.
I took another step back, walking toward my side.
“Would you be up for hanging out for a little bit?” I heard him say as I passed the metal 2 between our doors. “If Loraine is dead set on sticking you with me, I need to clue you in on what to do and what not to do around campers. We’re on a limited timeline here. Unless you plan on winging it once you’ve got a group of moody fourteen-year-olds staring you in the face.”
“Is winging it really such a bad plan?” I said, pausing.
“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but it’s literally the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.”
He shuffled around his side of the cabin for a minute, then walked through the door while pulling a shirt over his head. I glanced at his stomach for a fraction of a second, clearing my throat as he straightened out his shirt and attemped to smooth wayward strands of brown hair.
“You can’t walk into this without a solid plan,” he said, continuing toward a hanging swing on his side of the porch. “That’s like jumping into freezing water and hoping you don’t end up with hypothermia.”
“At least you’d get numb after a while,” I said, following him.
“Yeah, and then your toes would fall off and you’d die,” he said. He took a seat on the swing, slinging his arm around the back of it while I took a seat. In the dark, the features of his face were softer. Either he was tired, or he had lost some of the edge he’d worn earlier in the day.
I settled in beside him, relaxing against the swing while his long legs rocked it back and forth. Night had grasshoppers chirping on the path below. I listened to them for a minute, keeping my eyes more focused on the porch than on Grant.
“I think the biggest part of doing this job lies in being able to walk a very thin line between being their friend and being the authority figure,” he said after a minute. “If you drift too far to one side, they see you as an equal. If you stay too far removed, they can’t relate to you. It’s hard to balance, even as someone who’s lived both sides.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, staring at me. He rocked the swing back and forth, eyeing me quietly. “Step one is to focus on the very real campers who will be walking this porch in the very near future. Worry about them. Worry less about me.”
“Fine,” I said, scrunching my nose. “What’s your best advice on counseling these kids? Bribery? Empathy?”
“Empathy first,” he said, chuckling. “Take an interest in who they are and what they’re here to get, but when all else fails bribery is a solid second choice.”
“Sounds easy enough,” I said.
“It is easy, as long as you’re receptive,” he said. “Don’t judge them. Don’t think you know them. Listen. Learn. Adjust. Remember, you set the temperature of your cabin. You want them to warm to you. Don’t distance yourself from them.”
“Except I distance myself from everyone,” I said.
“Out of habit?” he said.
“Out of necessity,” I answered.
I swallowed, pushing images of Nikki from my mind. Distance was the easiest form of protection. Letting people in left room to get hurt. I learned my lesson with Mitch, then Nikki. Keeping things shallow, superficial, was my best option. Always would be.
“Letting myself get attached to these kids is definitely going to be the hardest part,” I said, staring at him. “If I can’t, what’s another option for making this work?”
“There isn’t one.”
“Great. Might as well pack my bags,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Take it from someone who spent the greater part of his childhood putting up walls. If I can let these kids in, so can you,” he said. “You’ll realize the lessons they have to teach you are way more important than protecting yourself from whatever you’re trying to keep out.”
“Wow. You actually sound like you know what you’re talking about,” I said, nudging him.
“I told you. I’m the best counselor out here,” he said. “The more you listen, the more you’ll learn.”
“You’re also incredibly humble,” I said, grinning.
“The most humble of them all.” After a moment, he stood, offering me his hand. “Just know things are never as hard as you think they are, but if you ever start having legit issues with your campers I’m just next door. Get me anytime.”
“Who are you and what did you do with the sarcastic, intolerable version of you?” I said, taking his hand.
“There are more sides to me than that one. I just happen to like that one the best.”
I straightened to full height, surveying him in the stillness of the night. Truth be told, I did too.
“Good night, Grant,” I said, peeling myself out of my place in front of him.
“Good night,” he said, moving toward his door.
I closed the door to my side of cabin two quietly, drinking in the hum of the window unit and the wisdom in Grant’s words. If getting attached meant surviving the summer, I guess I really didn’t have a choice.
“There’s always another choice,” I said, glancing at the strangers filling my side of cabin two.
What was once a clean and organized side of cabin two was now an explosion of plastic tubs, multicolored blankets, and too many duffel bags to count.
Another camper pushed her way through the screen door, carrying two more duffels and another blanket. She tossed the blanket haphazardly on one of the two remaining beds, then dropped her duffels on the floor and stared at the girls beside her.
Short, with dirty-blond hair down to her lower back, perfectly contoured foundation, a trendy graphic T-shirt, and blue-jean cutoffs, she was me version 2.0. The version before life hit me with a sledgehammer.
Outside, the heavy metal bell clanked. Camper sign-ins were officially over, and I was already down a camper. Five fourteen-year-olds were more manageable than six. With any luck, I’d lose another two or three to sunburns and mosquito bites.
I stood, hands on my hips as I tried to muster a smile to counteract the butterflies swirling in my stomach. They couldn’t smell fear, could they?
“Welcome to camp,” I said, looking at them.
They answered me with collective grumbles.
“I’m your counselor, Alex. I just wanted to take a minute to let you know how happy—”
“Yeah, yeah. Where’s the pool?” the blonde girl said, dragging a black-and-white swimsuit from her bag. “I need some rays. Hear me?”
“The pool is closed until tomorrow,” I said, maintaining a smile. “But I’ll be happy to give you the lowdown on that later. If you want.”
“How ’bout you give us the info now and spare everyone the boring and basic welcome to camp speech,” the blonde girl said, arching a brow. “Pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say the generic crap is highly overrated.”
“Geez, Brie, at least give her five minutes to tell us what’s up,” the girl beside her said, shaking her head. This girl had shorter hair, pushed away from her scalp and pulled into a wayward pixie cut. She was makeup-less, her olive complexion accentuated by her dark hair and even darker eyes.
She tugged on the ends of her hair, leaving the strands messier. “You’ll have to get over Brie’s lack of social ability,” she said, looking at me. “She doesn’t do well with people. It has something to do with her lack of tact and basic human skills.”
“I don’t do well with people?!” Brie said. “Uh-uh. You’re the one who landed herself on house arrest for beating up that girl.”
“She was a rat,” the dark-haired girl said.
“Fair enough,” Brie said, shrugging.
“What did she rat you out on?” another girl said, studying the pair.
“Go ahead, Jess,” Brie said. “Was it a straightener you stole? Makeup? Tampons? There’ve been so many things I’ve lost track.”
“It was a watch,” Jess said, flipping her off. “And it was Michael Kors so don’t act like it wasn’t worth the punishment.”
Jess looked at me, shaking her head. “Now, if we’re done discussing my rap sheet, I would like to listen to what Alex has to say about camp. Carry on, Alex. You’re happy for what?”
“Y’all being here,” I said, feeding into the assumption of genericness Brie called me out on. I cleared my throat, straightening beneath five pairs of eyes. “I’m so excited for everyone to get to know each other.”
“You want us to get to know each other?” Brie said, grinning. “Then what? We can braid each other’s hair and trade fashion secrets?”
“Quit being a jerk,” Jess said, tossing a pillow at her.
Brie caught it before it hit her face, her black polished nails digging into the pillowcase. “Throw one more thing at me,” she said. “One more and I’ll—”
Jess threw the pillow from the bed beside her, missing Brie but hitting another girl in the process. Accident or not, the unsuspecting victim launched upright. She was hovering over Jess in 2.5 seconds, screaming.
“Come at me, Jess. Come at me.”
“Girl, you know I’d rip those fake-ass extensions out your head,” Jess said, getting in her face.
“Whoa. Whoa,” I said, moving toward them.
“Nah,” the other girl said, closing the distance. “She’s had a problem with me since we got on that bus up in Gainesville. She’s lucky she made the ride down here.”
“You’ve had a problem with me longer than that,” Jess said, fists at her side.
“Because you think you run everything!” the girl said. “You don’t run nothing but your mouth.”
“I’m ’bout to run my fists upside your head, you little—”
The girl collided with Jess hard enough to knock her into the cot. I froze for a second, the string of events playing in slo-mo as Jess bolted upright and lunged for the girl.
“No. No. No,” I said, maneuvering through the oversized plastic totes between them and me.
I tripped as Brie sprinted across the room, throwing herself into the mix. Her hand found a lock of red hair at the back of the girl’s head. She dragged the other girl backward, pulling her off Jess while I scrambled upright.
“Stop it!” I screamed, racing after them. They barreled into the screen door, landing in a heap on the front porch.
I sprinted through the opening, reaching Brie first. Her steel grip of painted fingernails stayed latched on to the other girl’s hair as she dragged her backward. I went for Brie’s fist first, peeling her fingers away.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, fire burning in her blue eyes, then hauled her other fist at my face instead.
Pain splintered its way through my jaw, blood’s coppery taste soaking my mouth as I crashed into the porch swing. Oh hell no.
I charged Brie as she returned to the fight. Almost catching her before two strong arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me back. Cedarwood and cypress flooded my senses.
“No! Let me go!” I said, struggling in Grant’s grip.
“Get them apart!” he yelled, his voice hot against my neck.
Blood soaked my chin, leaving bread crumbs on the porch as he pulled me the other way. Kira was rushing up the porch beside us, with a bulky male running up the stairs behind her. They pulled Brie out of the hustle, the guy securing her while Kira continued working on the other two. The number of counselors on the porch grew by the second, drawing more and more attention to our porch.
“I’ll get this one to the nurse,” Kira said, hauling Jess backward.
Jess ripped her arm away, burning holes in Kira with her eyes as she stormed across the dirt path. Scratch marks lined her face, mild compared to the bruises on the other girl. My hands shook at my sides. Grant’s hold was still tight as my lip burned and copper coated my tongue.
“Erica, could you take what’s left of cabin two for a bit?” he said, earning the attention of one of the girl counselors on the porch. “They can stay out here, hell they can take a tour of camp for all I care. Just don’t let them out of your sight.”
“Yeah,” the girl said, crossing the porch.
He loosened his hold once we reached the path at the bottom of the porch. “You. Me. Talk. Now,” he said.
I peeled myself away, dread curling its way through my stomach. If I turned around now, I could spare myself the inevitable lecture from Mr. Counselor of the Year. That would also make me a coward. Decisions.
Grant stalked all the way to the counselor cabin, unspeaking. When we reached the door, he pushed it open so hard it hit the wall behind it with a deafening crack. I followed, swiping a hand against my mouth as he faced me.
“What the hell was that?! You didn’t even make it through the first day, Alex! You didn’t even make it thirty minutes!”
“Um, it wasn’t like I asked for WWE to show up at my cabin!” I said, adrenaline wrapping its hand around my limbs. “Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t. And I’m sorry, but I’m the one who got hit. Not you!”
“Because you’re totally incapable of doing this job,” he said, his hands resting on either side of his hat. He let out a long breath, shrinking my ego even more. “You see, this is what I was worried about. Your lack of experience. Your lack of ability to assess a situation and defuse it.”
“The last time I checked, you weren’t there!” I said, frustration burning my eyes. “I was standing there, trying to introduce myself. I was doing the typical icebreaking BS I thought I was supposed to do. Then one of the girls threw a pillow and World War Three started. Who punches someone over a pillow?! Who does that?!”
Footsteps closed the distance between us. His stony expression was unwavering. “The kind of campers who come out here,” he said, shaking his head. “The ones with a chip on their shoulder and a point to prove.”
He lifted a hand, gingerly tilting my face. “And the kind who throw one hell of a left hook.” His fingers raked the space on my jaw where the hit landed. I winced and he pulled them away, his lips thinning. “You’re going to bruise.”
“Then I’ll bruise,” I said, pulling away. “I’ve had worse.”
“You’d have less, had you known how to dodge a punch.”
“I know how to dodge a punch, and I also know how to throw them.” I crossed my arms, watching him as he moved the otherside of the cabin. “You would’ve seen it, had you not stopped me before I got a shot at her.”
“You should be thanking me for that,” he said. “Hitting a camper is a one-way ticket home.”
“Then I definitely should’ve hit her,” I said, the sarcasm in my words dying away at the reality of what that choice would’ve cost. Too much money. Too much disappointment from my parents.
Grant stopped in front of the refrigerator and pulled it open. “On the plus side, and trust me when I say there’s barely a plus side, you were lucky enough to get your cabin’s fight out of the way. Those are usually reserved for the second or third week, when everyone is really getting on each other’s nerves. They’ll get to see the consequence of that fight up front. Maybe it’ll spare you from more.”
“Or maybe they’ll continue being hostile to each other and I’ll be refereeing fights every day of the week,” I said, moving toward him.
“That’s not very optimistic.”
“Yeah? Well, Jess threatened to rip the extensions out of someone’s head. Hard to stay positive when you don’t know if you’ll be next on that threat list.”
“You’re a counselor and they don’t want to go home. You’re probably safe.” He opened the pantry and grabbed a Ziploc bag, then turned and pushed the ice maker on the fridge. Ice funneled inside.
“Besides, the worst that can happen already has,” he said, handing me the bag of ice. “You got hit and that girl hit you hard.” He handed me the bag of ice, grinning. “I’ll give it to you, though. I thought you were down for the count, but no. You got back on your feet and went after her. Didn’t think you had it in you or I would’ve grabbed you quicker.”
“I told you, I don’t put up with crap from anyone,” I said, setting the ice pack against my jaw.
Cold stung my skin, while contrasting heat flooded through me at the proximity to Grant. We stared at each other, silence winding its way through us. A comfortable tension slowly settling in.
“You could’ve called for help, instead of trying to handle it on your own,” he said after a pause. “Two of us are always going to be better than one.”
“And come across as more incapable than you already think I am?” I said, pressing the bag of ice to my jaw. “No way. I’ll go down swinging before I ask you for help.”
“That stubbornness is going to get you in trouble.”
“With who? You or my campers?”
I kept the ice against my face. The tick in his jaw lay somewhere between amused and annoyed. I could say thank you and agree to ask him for help, but something about not needing him seemed to irritate him more.
“Odds are Loraine will send one of them home,” he said. “My bet is on the girl who threw the first punch. She’ll be the example.”
“Yay! Sounds like a fantastic way to start off the summer,” I said. “A camper gets kicked out and I get to go back to my cabin and pretend nothing happened. I can see the conversation now. Ignore the physical altercation, girls. Let’s move on to friendship bracelets and team bonding.”
“Ooh, don’t forget tomorrow’s yoga session,” Grant said. “That activity was created solely for cabin bonding.”
“I hate yoga with a passion,” I groaned.
Something about contorting my body in extremely uncomfortable positions seemed less than thrilling. We’d be better off with friendship bracelets.
“Then you’ll have to pretend like you love it,” he said. “Because the way you walk into an activity will set the mood for how your campers feel about it. Just like your attitude when you get back to your cabin will determine how your campers respond to you. It’s all a response to leadership.”
“Then we’re royally screwed,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You aren’t screwed unless you completely give up. Which I don’t think you’ll do. You haven’t given up so far.”
“I’ve only been here four days,” I said. “Besides, I can’t walk in there and pretend like everything is hunky-dory when everything has gone to hell. That’s a terrible plan.”
“It’s the only plan you’ve got,” he said. “You walk in there hung up on issues and they’ll feel like they’re on thin ice. Threatened. Like all of us are waiting on another mess-up so we can send them home.”
“At this point, I’m perfectly fine with them going home. Send them all home. I’ll help you co-counsel the guys, when and if you need me.”
“That’s the kind of attitude that’s going to screw you over,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “If you act like you don’t want those girls around, they’re going to rebel. The last thing you want is five of them against you. You’ll never win.”
“Four,” I said. “One of them never showed, so I was down a camper already. If I lose this girl, I’ll be down to four.”
“Which means you’ll be fighting less of an uphill battle than every other counselor here. You’re on the upswing.”
“No. I was hit with an upswing,” I said. “See the bruise.”
He stepped backward, grinning as he reached the door. “Just remember, optimism is key.”
“Optimism can suck it,” I said, following him.
Outside, camp was a ghost town. I scanned the trees, searching for campers and counselors as Grant and I walked the path to our cabin.
“Before you go in there, take a deep breath and remind yourself I’m on the other side of that wall,” he said, walking beside me. “At the end of the day I got you. Don’t feel like you can’t ask for help.”
I studied him, his features sharp beneath the shadow of his hat. Looking that handsome was a crime. More so when he was being temporarily charming.
“Thank you,” I said, looking ahead.
“You’re welcome.”