By the time I get to the cabins, the two boys are sitting on their bunks, one holding ice to his right eye, the other has his head tipped back, the bag of ice situated on his nose. Betsy, our elderly but spry nurse, tuts and mutters admonitions as she fills in the paperwork. Tomorrow, I’ll have to call parents and dole out punishments, but right now? I want to get the fuck out of here.
“Sorry for bugging you,” Marty says, his mouth twisted in a disappointed frown.
“Nah, it’s fine. You followed procedure,” I tell our newest counselor. “What was it this time?” I ask the boys, crossing my arms and eyeing them sternly. They already look pathetic, so I don’t lay it on too thick.
“Jackson started it,” Jason mutters.
“I wouldn’t have if you kept your stupid mouth shut about—“ Jason counters, jumping to his feet. Jackson stands and I have to throw my arms between them to keep it from coming to blows again.
“Sit!” I bark, deciding thick is the only way to lay it on right now. They drop back to their mattresses, staring at me with wide eyes. I never yell, but this is ridiculous. “I’ve had enough. If you two can’t get along, I’m sending you both home in the morning. You got it?” They both nod, chagrined. “Good, because if I have to send you home, you’re going to be explaining to your parents why you got kicked out of camp without a refund.”
They both wince. Good. “Both of you report to the admin building at 8 am. Got it?”
“Yessir,” they both mutter, not looking at each other or me.
“Good. Go to bed. Not another word out of either of you.” I turn on my heel, striding back out of the cabin. We have a system, the counselors and I. And it works, even if it makes me look like a dick most of the time. I come down as the heavy when the campers have behavior issues. I lay down the law, dole out punishments, and generally make sure no one gets pushed around, leaving the counselors to be the good guys. The kids bond with the counselors better that way, giving them an ally when they need it.
I sweep the area, searching for Mia. I’d wait for her by her cabin… if I knew which one Bobbi put her in. Then again, she said she wanted to wander. I might catch her if I can just figure out where to look. I rack my brain, but it only takes a couple of seconds to come up with a starting point.
My feet carry me toward the lake and the sandy beach where we chain up the canoes and kayaks. I might be wrong, but something tells me I’m not. Mia, Amelia when we met, was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. She loved paddling out on the water and every chance she got, she’d head to the lake. Which meant I did the same.
A shadow moves on the beach and my heart leaps. I don’t care how much time has passed, she’s still so much the girl I remember. The girl I missed for years and years. I walk toward her, the sand muffling my footsteps as I watch her read the rules on the plaque. Then, her fingers smooth over the quote at the top. Such a stupid little song. But when she never called after that summer and never turned back up at camp over the following years, it was all I had of her.
“It’s the same one,” I whisper. She jumps and wheels around, sucking in a breath that makes her tits strain against her staff t-shirt. As she stares at me, I can see her nipples pebble under the fabric. I try not to look. I try to be the gentleman, but just the thought of running a thumb over that little peak makes my dick swell.
Thank god it’s dark.
“That was fast,” she pants, clutching her chest. “Fucking ninja.”
“Hey, now! I don’t pull my ninja skills out for everyone, you know.” I shrug and step closer. Mia raises her chin, tilting her head back as she stares up at me, a smirk pulling at one side of her mouth. A smirk has never been that sexy in the entirety of history.
“It’s really the same one canoe?”
I nod. “Yup. We found it in the storage barn, holding the Luau supplies. Look,” I tell her, shining my flashlight inside the canoe, illuminating the spot I’ve peeked at so many times over the last two years. Under the wooden bow seat, carved into the aged grain, are our initials. Or at least the ones we used to go by.
NP + AR
She leans under the plaque, running her fingers over the letters. “I can’t believe…” Mia starts, but trails off. “I just…” She clears her throat. “I just assumed you’d long forgotten about me.”
I shake my head and chuckle. “I don’t think that’s possible.” Not for a lack of trying, though. I tried like hell. Not that it did me any good. Amelia was one of a kind. I step closer. Her eyes shine bright and, if I let myself give in, those pools of liquid desire could pull me right inside her.
“The restaurants in town close soon…” I trail off. I wanted to take her to dinner. I really did. Hell, I still do, but not right now. If I take her to a restaurant, I have to share her attention.
“I’m not really hungry.” Mia hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “Do you want to just go for a walk and… I dunno? Catch up?” She looks up at me, soft lashes dusting her cheeks as she blinks.
“Yes. Absolutely yes.” I hold out my hand and she takes it. We walk along the bank of the lake, watching the moon rise higher and higher in the black velvet sky. We talk for hours and when our feet are tired, we sit on the sandy beach and watch the waves lapping gently at the shoreline.
I watch her as she talks, her hands waving around. I’d forgotten how hard she talked with her hands. During our summer at camp, I probably saw her hit no less than eight people as she gesticulated, her voice rising as she got excited.
She’s so much the same girl I fell for as a teenager. Beautiful, funny, and sweeter than the cotton candy lip gloss she used to wear. And underneath all of that, she had a rebellious streak that was sexy as hell.
It’s not that Mia was outright defiant; she just couldn’t stand to let injustices go unpunished. She was, and still is, sneaky rebellious.
“I told the principal that if he was dead set on limiting playground time for classes that were too loud in the hallways, of course I would comply. Even though that has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Mia rolls her eyes. “So, I got all the teachers together. Anytime he said a class was too loud and couldn’t go outside, we walked them right past his office. And since he wouldn’t let them burn off the excess energy, they were out of control and loud enough to set off the decibel alarm on my watch.”
“What did he do?” I ask, my focus completely on her.
She laughs. “We did it every day. Over. And over. And over—until he finally gave in. He can’t prove I organized it, which was definitely a good thing, because the man was wandering the school muttering about insubordination. I swear, he was an inch from a heart attack or turning into Dolores Umbridge. Could have gone either way.”
“Malicious compliance is my favorite form of revenge,” I laugh. Mia leans her head against my shoulder. “Oh! You know what tomorrow is?” I ask, peering down at her.
“Um… Tuesday?”
“Water Balloon Battle Royale.” I can’t hold back the grin as she sits up straight, her eyes wide.
“No!”
“Yup.” Battle Royale, half water balloon fight and half capture the flag, is a rite of passage at Hopeulikit. Once a summer, the counselors sneak out while the campers are eating breakfast. They stash enough water balloons around the property to soak half of the state. And when the campers come out of The Slop Shack, the counselors make it rain.
“God, I still feel bad. I thought I’d broken your nose,” Mia moans, putting her head in her hands.
Mia—Amelia back then—had hatched a plan, one that was identical to mine, and to this day, I still say it was genius. We both concluded that the counselors would be occupied with the frontal assault the rest of the campers were throwing at them. Who would expect a sneak attack from the steep hill behind their base?
To get around the backside, I had to crawl through the underbrush, the hem of my shirt clenched in my teeth, the makeshift pouch loaded with water balloons. The hill would be a tough climb, but after that, I figured the odds of being able to grab the flag were good.
And they were. Until I popped up from behind a fallen maple and came face to face with the cutest girl I’d ever seen. Unfortunately, the cutest girl I’d ever seen wasn’t expecting to come face to face with me. Which is how I scared the ever-loving shit out of the cutest girl I’d ever seen.
It’s also how I got my first black eye.
“Nah,” I laugh, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “I’d rather have gotten punched a hundred times than not have met you. Besides, I think I like that given the chance, your default is fight rather than flight.”
Mia chuckles, shivering against my side. Even in the middle of June, the nights up here get chilly. “You cold?” I ask.
“Yes,” she huffs, intentionally dramatic. “But I don’t want to go back yet.”
“Me either,” I murmur, shrugging out of my flannel and wrapping it around her shoulders. Mia leans up, her breath warming my skin, and a split second later, her lips press against my cheek. Then she tucks her head back against my shoulder, leaning against my side again.
God. Damn.
I close my eyes, resting my cheek on top of her head. She smells like coconut sunscreen and vanilla, all of it mixing with the forest breeze and making my heart race. I close my eyes, breathing her in. It was always like this with her; even on that first day.