The rest of day one held an eerie stillness, an unspoken warning for campers and counselors alike. That warning clung to the air as day faded to night, growing anxiety and pessimism by the minute.
After dark, my girls gathered in the cabin. Despite a day’s worth of welcome to camp activities, their focus stayed on the fight. To top it off, everyone else at camp was also talking about the fight. At dinner, a full play-by-play was the most requested menu item.
I plopped onto my bed, sighing as I tugged off my tennis shoes. “What I wouldn’t do for a beer,” I groaned, tossing them on the floor. I grabbed a hoodie from the foot of my bed and tugged it over my head, putting the hood up as I relaxed against the bed’s metal headboard.
Across the room, the girls sat cross-legged on their beds. “Girl literally sat in there screaming her head off,” Brie was saying, shaking her head as she looked at Jess.
She wore a purple bruise on the right side of her face, but the majority of the damage was on the other. Fingernail marks ran across her cheeks, red against pale skin.
“Like she really thought they were going to let her come back in here when she jumped Jess,” Brie continued, grinning. “Uh, no girl. You wanted to start some beef but think you’re still allowed to stay? What is that?”
I cleared my throat, sitting upright. My nerves were riding the line between mildly anxious and full-fledged panic attack. Back home, I would’ve fled through the upstairs window. Here, that wasn’t an option.
I glanced at the girls, forcing myself to sound mellow despite being on edge. “I get that we had a kind of chaotic morning, but can we talk about something other than how Jane got suspended from camp?” I said.
“Why do we have to move on?” another camper, Steff, said. “That was, like, the best fight this camp has ever seen.”
The girls, including the fourth and arguably quietest of the quartet, Jules, had spent the hours following the fight walking around like they were the unspoken heroes of cabin two. Funny, considering two of the four were involved in starting the fight.
Jules pushed long dark hair behind her shoulders, prominent brown eyes honed on me. “Besides, it ain’t like we’ve got anything else to do,” Jules said. “Those lame activities they got up near the mess hall don’t start until tomorrow. Tonight is a free-for-all.”
“Nothing about this place is a free-for-all,” Brie said, sighing.
“It’s still better than being back home,” Jess said. “And Alex is right. I’m getting tired of hearing the replay on something we lived through. First time was fine. Now it’s getting old.”
“Great,” I said, shooting her a thumbs-up. “So let’s talk about something else. Rules. Fun stuff. Books. I don’t even care. Just something totally unrelated to the fight. Okay?”
“Or we could not and say we did,” Brie said, tracing designs on her pillow. “Idea: How about we switch things up and get the four-one-one on that chunk of man next door?”
“I’m in,” Steff said, grinning.
“Okay. Okay,” I said, waving them off. “Conversations about Grant are finished. I wouldn’t want him talking about me, so we aren’t talking about him. Do it when I’m not around.”
“But he’s a prime conversation topic, and it’s not like we’re doing anything else!” Brie said. “Besides, I’ve spent the last two summers out here trying to find any and every reason to talk to him. Now he’s right next door.”
“Girl, he ain’t interested in you,” Jess said, laughing.
“I never said he was. That don’t mean I’m not interested in him,” said Brie.
“We never should’ve changed the conversation,” I said, face-palming myself.
“Just being honest,” Brie said with a shrug.
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the headboard, quiet as the girls took up a conversation on camp couplings and who had dibs on who. Within the hour, exhaustion drowned their words. When I stumbled out of bed around midnight, fumbling for the bathroom, they were finally asleep.
By seven, my alarm clock had me stumbling out of bed again. I groaned and dragged myself to the floor, the thin counselor mattress leaving knots in my shoulders and neck. Moving my neck side to side, I grabbed a fresh set of clothes and my bathroom stuff, then headed for the bathroom. If I didn’t shower before the girls, there was no telling how long I’d have to wait for hot water.
The floor was freezing against my feet and my body ached as I opened the first shower curtain and turned the water on full heat. I slipped inside, stripping myself of pajama shorts and an oversized Crighton T-shirt. I stood beneath the stream and letting the water wash away the events of the day before.
“New day. New me,” I said, grabbing my shampoo.
The shower beside me started as I lathered my hair, but an unfamiliar singing voice quickly broke the peaceful drum of the water. Not on-key enough to be considered decent, the voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
I rinsed my hair turned off the water, cringing as someone on the guys’ side of cabin two beat his fist against the wall. “My ears are bleeding!” he yelled in a muffled voice.
“Shut up!” Jess yelled from beside me, beating on the wall equally hard.
I grinned and changed into a fresh tank top and shorts, then threw my hair in a towel as the pair of them continued yelling at each other through the wall.
Brie was entering the bathroom when I opened the shower curtain, her hair sticking up at awkward angles and her eye makeup leaving her looking more like a raccoon than anything.
“Geez,” Brie said, looking at me. “She’s at it early this morning, isn’t she?”
“I swear if that’s Connor I’m going to wring his scrawny little neck,” Jess said, poking her head out of the shower beside me.
Brie patted her on the head, nodding toward the shower I’d just left. “You done in there?” she said, looking at me. “I swear it’s like I woke up dirtier this morning than when I went to bed.”
“It’s called being one with nature,” Jess said, closing her shower curtain again.
I stepped out of the way, moving toward the sink. Their conversation continued behind me, but one glance at my reflection and my attention was squarely on the dark circles beneath my eyes.
I look like the Crypt Keeper, I thought, touching them. The sunburn on my face accentuated both the circles under my eyes and the string of freckles lying across the bridge of my nose. Even my scar was more prominent, the jagged line paler as it poked out from beneath my hair. I brushed my hair to the side, covering the scar beneath my bangs. With any luck, they would dry that direction and save me the trouble of straightening them.
“Alex, I want to check out the pool today,” Brie said from behind her curtain, her voice muffled by the shower. “That means I need for you to carve out at least an hour’s worth of time. I have to make sure I get my tanning in. My arms are so white they glow in the dark.”
“The last time I checked, Alex owes you nothing,” Jess said. “You’re here as a camper. Remember? Don’t get yourself kicked out. They won’t let you come back next year.”
“I know why I’m out here,” Brie said. “But I also know I worked my ass off to pull a C average last semester. I’m enjoying what I can, while I’m here. Schedule or not.”
“Hold up,” Jess said, her tone dripping with annoyance. “You cheated off me. Don’t go making it sound like you put some real energy into getting a C.”
“Cheating off you was a huge effort on my part,” Brie said. “You don’t even realize how many times I almost got caught.”
“Uh-huh. What do you want? A cookie?”
“The point is, I plan on living up every second of this free time,” Brie said, poking her head out of the shower. “I wanted to swim yesterday, but we got sucked into that whole fight situation and everything went to hell. I’m making up for it today. That’s a fact.”
“I don’t know if we’ll have time,” I said, grabbing my makeup bag.
“You can either make time, or I can,” she said.
“I don’t make the schedule,” I said, digging through my makeup. “I get a piece of paper handed to me and I follow it.”
“Then tell whoever makes the schedule that you want to make a change,” Brie said, rolling her eyes. “Because I’m getting in that pool today, one way or the other.”
“That’s your choice,” I said, glancing at her in the mirror. “But don’t blame me when you end up with a one-way ticket home.”
“You’d snitch?”
“No, but I’ll chuck you under the bus if someone starts pointing fingers at me,” I said. “I’m not taking the fall because you decided to do whatever you want.”
She paused for a minute, her jaw jutted to the side.
“Again, your choice,” I said, shrugging.
“You’re right, it is my choice,” she said, sticking her head back behind the curtain.
Jess exited the shower beside her, already changed into a pair of track pants and a T-shirt. She towel-dried her hair as she walked, her voice low as she reached me.
“I get you’re the counselor,” she said. “And I know you have rules and expectations and whatever, but let me give you a word of advice. When it comes to Brie, it’s easier to just do what she asks. Don’t fight the system. Go with it and move on.”
“How about no?” I said, shaking my head.
“Just trying to help,” Jess said, holding up her hands. “I know my friend. She don’t jack around with people. She starts the issue. Then she finishes it. That’s it.”
“Well, you don’t know me,” I said, pausing. “I’m tougher than I look, and I’ll start taking orders from a fourteen-year-old the day pigs fly.”
The water behind me stopped. Brie exited the shower a minute later, a towel wrapped around her and long strands of blond hair dripping against the floor. She smiled widely, staring me down like a fox hunting prey.
“I’m not like most fourteen-year-olds,” she said, knocking into my shoulder, “and I’ll take that as a personal challenge.”
“That sounds like a threat,” I said, watching her as she turned the corner.
“Take it however you want,” she said.
I rubbed the spot on my shoulder, blood heating as her giggle sounded from the main room. I could handle an unruly camper, but an unruly camper with an agenda was a completely different subject.
When I exited the cabin thirty minutes later, Grant was already on the porch, leaning against the railing with a travel mug in his hand. His eyes were straight ahead and his attention on the road. In athletic shorts, a blue T-shirt, and his black baseball cap, he looked like a laid-back athlete who was contemplating life in the Texas wilderness. I could’ve stood there and stared at him longer, had he not turned and glanced my way.
“You’re up earlier than I expected,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep. “Please tell me that wasn’t you singing in the shower.”
“I sing better than that,” I said, leaning against the rail beside him.
The smell of dew hung heavy around us, morning humidity clinging to anything and everything exposed to the outdoors. Across the road, behind the other three cabins, the sun cast colors on the clouds. It wasn’t worth the early wake-up call, but it made things better.
My eyes shifted to the travel mug in Grant’s hand, the smell of coffee too strong to deny. “Want to help a girl out and tell me where you got that coffee?” I said, looking at him.
“Um, no,” he said, taking a sip from the cup. “Coffee is reserved for counselors who make it through day one without cabin fights. Sorry, but you don’t qualify.”
I flipped him off and he laughed.
“Perhaps I could make an exception, if you agree to take my group’s mess-hall duty today,” he said.
“That’s not even remotely fair,” I said, frowning.
“It’s fair if you want coffee bad enough,” Grant said.
I turned, resting my hip against the rail as I faced him. His usual Texas Tech hat left shadows on his face, but his blue T-shirt popped against his vivid hazel eyes. He turned so his chest was facing me, the smell of his body wash clinging to his skin.
“In all seriousness, congrats on surviving to day two,” he said, a smile playing at his lips.
“Small victories,” I said, nodding. “Even smaller, considering one of my campers has decided she’s in a power position.”
“Ooh, a fourteen-year-old with a chip on her shoulder. Who would’ve thought?” Grant said. “So, what’s the issue? She jealous of your prime sleeping position, or of your ruggedly handsome co-counselor?”
“She’s frustrated this isn’t some on-call swim resort where she can lie out whenever she wants,” I said.
“Did you tell her she could go home if she has an issue?” Grant said, fidgeting with the brim of his hat. “If she has a problem, that’s the easiest solution.”
“I’ve already had one go home,” I said. “If I send any more home, my campers will start to riot.”
“If they riot, they’ll all be sent home,” he said. “Then you could leave camp and everyone’s problems would be solved.”
“You’re still trying to get rid of me, and here I thought we’d turned a corner,” I said, grinning.
“I haven’t made up my mind,” he said with a smile.
I giggled, the laugh fading as Brie pushed through the door on our side. She stared at me for a moment, glanced at Grant, then pranced across the porch with her high ponytail slinging back and forth.
“It’s the beginning of the day and she’s already getting on my nerves,” I groaned.
“I’m sure you annoyed people when you were fourteen,” Grant said, peeling himself away from the rail.
“Nope. I was perfect,” I lied.
“Doubtful.” He sipped his coffee, moving for the stairs. “Perfect or not, you still need to figure out a way to work with her. You’ll be better off that way. Your cabin will be better off.”
“Sounds easier than it is,” I said, following him across the porch.
“I never said it was easy,” he said. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.” He landed on the dirt with a thud, his tennis shoes crunching over rocks as he headed to the mess hall.
I matched his pace, mentally ping-ponging between what Grant wanted me to do and what I wanted to do. Still caught between my options at breakfast, I spent the rest of my morning in silent debate.
By the time yoga rolled around, my mind was the furthest thing from balanced. I reached the amphitheater on the outskirts of camp, rolling my shoulders as I neared the group gathered at the base of the massive stone setup. Six rows high, the outdoor space sat nestled in a clearing surrounded by trees. Grant stood among the campers at the bottom, towering over most.
“This is by far the lamest camp activity I’ve ever heard of,” I said, closing the distance between us. “It’s like Loraine googled therapy techniques and picked the five most boring options.”
“Wrong,” Grant said, grinning. “I’m the one who googled them.”
“Of course you did,” I said, slowing completely.
Hands on my hips, I scouted the area for my campers. Steff and my quietest camper, Jules, stood beside a group of Grant’s guys. Brie and Jess were nowhere in sight.
“You’re missing two,” Grant said, following my gaze. “You think that’s intentional, or do you think they forgot?”
“I think they skipped out,” I said, frowning. “If I had to bet, I’m pretty sure I know exactly where they are.”
“Want to track them down?” he said, crossing his arms.
“Not yet,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt, but if they don’t show before this thing is over with there will be hell to pay. If I have to do this stupid exercise, so do they.”
“Yoga is actually pretty calming. Maybe it will help get all that bubbling animosity out of you,” Grant said, poking me in the side. “Channel your energy, Alex. Channel it good.”
“I hate you,” I said, smiling.
“No, you don’t,” he said, smiling too.
He took his place at one of the mats, slipping off his tennis shoes to reveal mismatched black socks. I took the mat beside him, taking off my own shoes as the yoga instructor dropped her stuff on one of the concrete steps.
“Remember to channel that energy,” he said, glancing at me. “I know this seems hokey, but it can be beneficial if and when you let it.”
“Is this the part where you tell me you really did suggest this camp activity?” I said, looking at him.
“My primary suggestion was the counselor basketball game,” he said. “But yes, I may or may not have suggested this too. We used to have it when we were at camp, back in the day. I think the majority of us realized it was actually a better way to get out our aggression than what we’d been doing.”
“Which was?”
“Fighting, mainly,” Grant said, watching the woman at the front of the group. “It might be hard to believe, with me being so calm and friendly and everything, but I wasn’t always this likable.”
“You’re likable?” I said, studying his profile.
He hadn’t made it a secret that he was once a camper, but the occasional tidbits of information played at my curiosity. Why was he sent here? Better question: Had he screwed up worse than me?
“Occasionally, when my co-counselor is being easier to get along with,” he said, looking my way.
I held his gaze for a moment, warmth filling my cheeks.
“Not that it happens often,” he said.
“If you can’t take me at my moodiest, you don’t deserve me in awesomeness.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes,” he said.
“It’s the remix,” I answered.
He chuckled and held his hands out, mirroring the yoga leader. I attempted the same pose, trying and failing epically as they progressed to even the simplest positions. Despite months of physical therapy, scar tissue from the wreck kept my right side less flexible than my left. Attempting yoga was more pointless than productive.
The yoga instructor did another pose, but I stepped away—surrendering despite the rest of the group still balanced on their mats. Grant peered at me for a second, but I slid on my shoes and ignored the curious look.
“You pull something?” he said.
“I’m more agile than that,” I lied, shaking my head. I straightened. “I’m just tired of waiting around for Brie and Jess. If I can be out here attempting this exercise in calmness or whatever, so can they. It’s ridiculous.”
“And you know where they are?” Grant said, shifting his body.
“I have a vague idea.”
I adjusted my ponytail and backed away, avoiding the rest of the campers, who were trying to follow the leader despite being equally incapable of doing the poses. Steff was red-cheeked when I passed her, her breaths short huffs.
“Hey, where you going?” she said.
I continued without answering, clutching my side the minute I was out of sight. With a long shaky breath, I rubbed the long scar where metal had pierced my skin. The space beneath it was hard, numb to the touch.
“If I’m out here pretending to be a yogi, they can fake it too.”
Sure Brie had her reasons for skipping, but wanting an afternoon at the pool wasn’t a good excuse. The world didn’t revolve around her. Neither did our schedule.
I continued through the woods, doing my best to navigate the path to camp. Luckily, daylight helped. I spotted the brick wall surrounding Camp Kenton’s pool roughly ten minutes later, my side hurting worse as I continued the trek.
A diving board sounded behind the wall, the splash of water loud enough to tell me she had to be here.
“What are you doing?!” I said, stopping as soon as I spotted her lounging on a collapsible chair beside the pool.
Jess froze inside the pool, her eyes wide as she looked my way. I glanced at her shortly, fuming as I resumed my attention on Brie.
“I thought I made it clear that there wouldn’t be time for swimming today,” I said, crossing my arms. “That didn’t mean pick and choose which activity you wanted to skip, in order to fit it in.”
“Why do you care?” Brie said, opening her eyes. “I made time and you got to save yourself from seeing me attempt yoga. It’s a win-win.”
“Except Loraine made the schedule and you were supposed to be out there, whether you wanted to or not,” I said, blood heating. “You don’t get to make the rules around here, Brie. I’m the counselor, remember?”
“I don’t remember having a say in that,” Brie said, closing her eyes again.
My fists balled at my sides, her complete disregard for anyone but herself wearing a serious hole in my nerves. “Look,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You can either pry yourself off that chair and get to the amphitheater, or I can get Loraine and she can handle it instead. What do you want to do?”
“Snitches get stitches,” Brie said.
“Hit me and you’ll get some too,” I said, shrugging.
“All right, all right. We’ll go,” Jess said, padding barefoot against the concrete surrounding the pool. She wrung out the bottom of her shirt, leaving a trail of water as she walked. “We both know this place, despite being a little uptight, is way more lit than life back home. Give us fifteen and we’ll be there. That will give Brie enough time to finish off this tanning rotation, and it gives me the chance to get in more dive practice. Deal?”
“No,” I said. “You don’t get fifteen minutes. You don’t even get five. You can pick up your crap, right now, and get back to the amphitheater before Steff and Jules realize you skipped on yoga to have a private pool party. Got it?”
“Don’t test me,” Brie said, yanking off her sunglasses. “You’ll end up with a cabin full of girls whose mission will be to make your life miserable. That sound like fun, Alex?”
“Sounds like a good way for you to go home,” I said.
“Take it from me when I say it’s so much easier for the counselors who just get along with their cabins,” Jess said, stepping between us. “We’ll wrap it up now, okay?”
“I never agreed to that,” Brie said, shaking her head. “I need at least seven more minutes on this side.”
I threw my hands up and turned, leaving the pool before any more interaction with Brie fried my brain cells. She didn’t get the point and she didn’t care to listen. Unless she wanted to listen, talking to her was pointless.
I stalked back to my cabin and grabbed my sketchbook and a pencil from my suitcase. Grant could keep his yoga. This was my only way to channel animosity and frustration, without flying off the handle and creating more drama.
I plopped onto the counselor bed, the springs creaking underneath me as I settled in. Without rhyme or reason, the pencil found its way to the paper and started furiously scratching lines across it.
“Threaten me,” I grumbled, drawing harder. The paper ripped beneath the force of the pencil, going through the next sheet and out the other side. “Son of a—”
“Paper say the wrong thing?” Kira said, pulling my attention toward the door.
I paused for a moment, scowling at her before tossing my notebook to the end of my bed. She was supposed to be my go-to person for positivity. Positivity would be great right about now.
“How do you handle campers who don’t respect you?” I said, crossing my arms.
“That’s a loaded question,” she said, crossing the threshold. “And I wish I had an answer, but I don’t.”
I let out a long sigh as her sandals flip-flopped against the wood floor. She settled on the bed across from me, shaking her head.
“Things haven’t gotten better since yesterday?”
“Unless threats have become a new kind of compliment, I’m going to go with no,” I said. I rested my head against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. “Do you think I’m incapable of doing this job?”
“I don’t know you well enough to decide that,” Kira said.
“Neither does Grant, but he had no problem telling me that I am,” I said.
Kira chuckled, drawing my attention. At least someone found the situation funny. Wish I did.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a minute. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m just picturing Grant saying something like that. Once upon a time, he would’ve been the camper starting the fights. He’s come full circle with this counselor gig.”
“What was he like as a camper?” I said.
Images of a younger version of Grant spun through my mind. Him in all his sarcastic moodiness trekking the dirt paths of camp while grumbling about how incapable people are would’ve been amazing.
“It was a long time ago,” she repeated. “It’s really not my story to tell, but you should ask him about it sometime. There’s a reason he’s good at his job. Seeing the other side of it probably helps him relate to the campers.”
“What did he do?”
“His story. Not mine,” she repeated. She leaned over, grabbing my notebook from the end of my bed. “Anyway, I wasn’t trying to interrupt your drawing sesh. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after yesterday’s fight.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, taking the notebook as she extended it my way. “I’ll just take out all my aggression on this book and hope I have a few pages left to actually draw something on.”
“We have arts and crafts,” Kira said.
“And put myself around campers more?” I said, quirking a brow. “Uh-uh. I’ll stick to drawing in isolation. At least this way I can curse at them in peace.”
“Well, I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”
“Thanks, Kira,” I said.
She nodded and stood, adjusting the hem of her shirt as she crossed the cabin. Once she was outside, I opened the notebook again and stared at the torn page with too many haphazard pencil marks.
If I could survive a car accident and the aftermath that followed, I could survive a handful of bratty teenagers with chips on their shoulders. I was one of them. Whether they wanted me to be or not.