2006, Camp Wawa, Week One
“He’s, like, in love with you!”
“Oh my God, no he isn’t!” My cheeks burn even as I grin, my eyes darting around us, making sure no one else heard Ashley’s enthusiastic hiss. Thankfully everyone’s attention seems to be on the screen ahead or on their nearby friends’ giggles, or on stretching their sleeping bags out on the grass as they prepare for The Parent Trap. Night Four of camp is “movie night” every week—barring rain—and I’ll admit, the sea of small, squirming bodies over the soccer field is impressive.
The image from the projector flickers a few times before it finally fills the screen, and the opening score blares through the speakers and carries through the calm, warm night air.
“Please. His eyes are, like, glued to you.” She drops her voice. “Did you two hook up last night?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I can’t stifle my wide grin fast enough.
“I knew it!” Ashley starts giggling hysterically. “What was it like?”
“We just kissed. That’s all.” That’s a lie. There’s nothing “just” about kissing Kyle, I’ve decided. My lips were still puffy when I woke this morning, with a content sigh despite the early hour and lack of sleep, and the sound of Christa’s voice, urging everyone on their feet.
I’ve been on a high all day, my body humming with life and expectation every time I catch a glimpse of him. Nothing has been able to dampen my mood—not the sight of Izzy’s bloody knee when she tripped over a log, not the icy temperature of the lake when we went swimming, not the overdone and unappealing fish sticks that landed on my plate for dinner.
“You’re coming out tonight, right?” Ashley asks.
“Of course.” I’ve been anxiously counting down the hours since my eyes cracked open.
“Wear your bathing suit. We’re going night swimming.”
I shudder.
“It’ll be fun. Trust me.” She adds in a coy voice, “I’m sure Kyle will be going.”
My gaze wanders over to where he sits, ten feet away, behind his campers. He’s laughing at Eric, who’s furiously brushing his hands through his blond curls.
“Glitter,” Ashley explains with a giggle. “The kids must have stolen it from the arts tub and played a joke on Eric. That or Kyle did it. They’re such jerks to each other sometimes.”
Midway through a laugh, Kyle turns my way and I feel the shy smile curl my lips, memories of his mouth against mine still firmly emblazoned in my mind.
“See? He can’t keep his eyes off you! You’re like a magnet.”
“Stop!” I elbow her, but I’m grinning.
Kyle seems to pick up on the gist of our conversation because he reaches into a bowl of popcorn and tosses a kernel at us. It misses us entirely, pinning Christa in the head.
The soft strum of a guitar and laughter carries and the day’s warmth lingers in the air as Ashley and I approach the lake, our bathing suits on beneath our clothes. My campers were asleep before hers, leaving me to pace around the girls’ restroom, waiting for her to arrive. Christa didn’t say a word when I clambered down the steps and grabbed my things.
The way things are going, I doubt we’ll ever see eye-to-eye on anything.
People are already in the water, trading splashes, though it’s too dark to identify anything beyond a few silhouettes.
Someone has carried a metal firepit down and settled it in the sand. Flames now dance within it, toasting the marshmallows held close while illuminating the circle of faces that surrounds it. Avery and Maria sit on either side of Colin, seemingly lulled by his throaty voice as he sings the chorus to “Wonderwall” by Oasis.
“You guys coming in?” Eric calls out from somewhere in the lake. I can only assume Kyle is somewhere out there, too.
Ashley kicks off her sandals and drags her toes through the shoreline.
“It’s amazing. Get in here, Freckles!”
She sheds her clothes where she stands, earning a loud whistle of approval as she adjusts her green bikini bottoms. Wawa has a one-piece-only rule for swimming attire, one of the few dress code rules that Darian makes sure everyone adheres to. “Coming, Piper?”
I follow suit, a swirl of nervousness and excitement stirring in the pit of my stomach as I reveal my own prohibited two-piece—a simple but elegant black bikini that my friend Reid swears makes my breasts look twice as big.
I grit my teeth as we slowly wade in, though the temperature is more bearable now than it was earlier today, the contrast to the air less dramatic.
“Oh, this is nice!” Ashley skims the top of the water with her fingertips. “I love night swimming.”
I suck in a breath, bracing myself against the cold. “I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call it nice.” My skin is covered in gooseflesh.
The next few moments happen in a blur. Water churns and a dark figure charges at me, then I feel wet, strong arms wrap around my thighs and hoist me up.
“No!” I shriek as my body tips over Kyle’s shoulder. My fingers glide across his wet skin as I grasp for purchase on his bare back. He’s barreling forward, deeper into the lake, his hands gripping my hips tight, his intent clear. “Kyle, don’t you dare—”
He only lets go after my body is fully submerged.
“I hate you!” I sputter through my laughter, though I’m quickly warming to the temperature of the water.
“No you don’t,” he teases, lingering a few feet away, immersed to his neck.
My fingers itch to touch his bare skin. I glide toward him and he begins moving backward, just out of reach, drawing me out deeper and off to the right, away from Eric and Ashley and the others. He only stops when the water level sits at my shoulders and we’re alone. The sand feels weird out here. I scrunch my toes against the lake’s silky bottom.
“Hey.” He stoops in the water to meet me at eye level. His strong hands find my waist and he pulls me closer to him, fitting me in between his parted thighs.
“Hey.” My voice is a whisper as my fingers curl around his biceps, reveling in their shape and strength. My heart hammers inside my chest, memories of his pliable lips against mine last night flooding my mind, exploding my anticipation of a repeat.
“Did you like the movie tonight?” I ask.
“What movie?” He bows his head to settle his forehead against my temple, the tip of his slender nose grazing my cheek. “I wasn’t watching any movie.”
“It almost put me to sleep.” Lie. As if I could ever drift off with Kyle in the vicinity.
“You weren’t paying attention, either.” I hear a smirk in his voice.
“How would you know?”
His hand curls around to skate up my spine, stalling at the fastening of my bikini top, one finger casually slipping beneath it. “Because I was watching you.”
“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” I tease.
He chuckles. “The way you look in this . . .” He slides one strap of my bikini top down and replaces it with his mouth, leaving a trail along my skin, hot against the cool air. I can’t tell if it’s the metal of his lip ring or just him that sends shivers through my body. “No wonder they don’t let counselors wear bikinis. My entire cabin would be hiding their hard-ons in the lake.”
“Oh my God! They’re like, twelve!” I cringe through my laugh.
“Exactly. Trust me. You wouldn’t believe the stuff they talk about.” He swallows hard and then, sliding the strap back in place, shifts away. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
He sighs. “I just don’t ever want you to think I’m pressuring you.”
Because of what I said about that pig Trevor the first night here.
I can’t help but laugh. If Kyle were Trevor, he’d have his tongue shoved down my throat and my top unfastened by now.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, a touch of wariness in his voice.
“Nothing. Just . . .” Kyle may have figured out that I’m a virgin, but I’m beginning to think he also assumes I’m entirely inexperienced. Beneath the water, I smooth my hands first over his chest, and then downward, admiring the cut of his lean torso. “I’m okay with this. With whatever.”
“With whatever?” I can’t see his face in the dark, but I can imagine his thick eyebrows arched with amusement.
I let my hand drift farther down, my palm flat as I slide it over the front of his shorts, enjoying the hard form against my palm a moment, letting him know that I’m not that delicate or inexperienced.
Kyle’s breathing wavers, and the sound of his swallow catches my ear. “Got it.” He cups my chin with his palm and leans in to kiss me—not as fervently as last night—before letting his hand slide down over my throat, across my collarbone, and farther, slipping beneath the water to skate over my breast. His touch is tentative at first, but it quickly turns confident as the pad of his thumb draws circles over the soft fabric of my bikini, over my pebbled nipple.
I grip his waist and wait for him to push the material aside, to slip his hand beneath, to feel his touch against my bare skin. Just the thought of it has heat pooling in my lower belly.
“All right, counselors! You’ve had your little bit of fun,” Darian’s voice suddenly calls out from the shoreline.
“Shit,” Kyle mutters, his hand stalling, his breathing ragged.
A round of groans carries through the night.
“Oh, I know. You guys need to learn to be more quiet if you want to get away with this. Come on, get to your cabins now!”
Kyle sighs.
“Tomorrow?” I murmur against his lips, letting my hand drift down over him once again.
The strangled sound coming from his throat makes me smile.
“Darian is going to murder you two!” Ashley whisper-squeals as Eric and Kyle coast up the pathway, one after another, in the camp’s golf carts. It’s after eleven at night, and the ground is still soggy following an afternoon of heavy rain that kept the campers cooped up in the rec center and under the pavilion. Despite the two-hour-long dance and camper awards ceremony tonight, it still took almost an hour to get them settled—their last night at Wawa—too much unspent energy coursing through their little limbs.
Much like the counselors, it would seem.
“Nah, her lights are off. All those cheesy dance moves tired her out.” Eric eases off the path and pulls up next to Kyle’s golf cart. “First one to the badminton course wins. Whichever route you want, but grass only.”
“You are crazy.” Ashley shakes her head but trots to take a seat next to Eric, grinning.
Kyle gestures to the vacant spot beside him.
This is probably a bad idea, I note as I slide in, huddling close as if I’m chilled, though the night air is sticky and warm. “Hey,” I whisper, pressing my lips against his cheek.
He turns toward me, stealing a kiss. “Miss me?”
“So much.” Even though we were never more than ten feet apart all afternoon—by coincidence or by design.
He smiles and releases a low groan that I feel deep inside.
The whir of Eric’s golf cart sounds.
“Hey!”
I squeal and grab the cart’s frame as we lurch forward. Kyle chases Eric, veering off the path and onto the grassy field, bumping and jostling us both as we try to get around him. Ashley peers back at us, her hair a frizzy halo, as she eggs Eric on. “Faster! Faster!” she calls through her laughs.
It’s not a surprise that they beat us to the badminton court.
“That wasn’t even remotely fair,” Kyle chides.
Eric throws his hands in the air. “Maybe if you stopped sucking face for two minutes . . .”
Kyle rolls his eyes but smirks. “First one to the kayak rack?”
“You’re on.”
“I’m driving!” Ashley proclaims.
Eric gestures over himself in the sign of the cross.
“Oh, shut up.” She smacks his hand, then nods toward me. “It’s our turn, right?”
“I guess so?” Part of me wants to cross myself, too, and not in a joking way. “I’ve never driven one of these, though.”
“It’s easy. Here.” Kyle grabs my waist and hoists me with seeming ease onto his lap, giving me a thirty-second push-this-pedal-to-go-forward-and-turn-this-wheel-to-steer lesson, all while I’m acutely aware of the feel of his growing need against my backside.
“Ready?” Ashley chirps, already in position to drive, her fists gripping the black wheel with purpose.
“Hold on.” We shift places so I’m settled in the driver’s seat.
“Okay. So . . .” Kyle leans in and drops his voice to a low murmur. “They’re going to go that way.” He nods to the left. “But there’s a better way, around the other side of the totem pole.”
“Down the hill?”
“Shh . . . Just to the right of it. I’ve done it before. Trust me. Eric won’t think of it, so pretend you’re following them until we reach . . .” I listen intently as he gives me directions, trying to ignore the feel of his lips grazing my ear as he tries to hide our plan from our competitors.
“What’s he saying?” Eric calls out, his eyes narrowing with wariness.
“To drive safely,” I answer, with mock innocence.
We take off at the same time, with Ashley squealing and Eric shushing her. We’re far enough away from the cabins to keep from waking the campers, but not that far away from Darian’s cabin.
“Now!” Kyle demands and I veer off to the right, the cart bouncing over the divots in the grass. “Around that tree!”
I grit my teeth to keep from squealing, too, as I bank around an enormous oak and then speed down the hill and across another stretch of open space toward the lake, a mix of terror and exhilaration coursing through my veins.
“There they are. We have to get to the path by the lake before them.” Kyle points at the other cart, speeding toward us, its dim headlights flickering with each bump. “Shit, they’re gonna beat us!”
“The hell they are.” I jam my foot down on the cart’s pedal, goading the cart to its maximum speed, which isn’t that fast, but in the dark, on rough terrain, I may as well be racing my mom’s Porsche.
“Piper . . .”
“We’re going to make it.” My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“Shit, shit, shit . . .” Kyle grips the cart’s frame, bracing himself.
“Oh my God!” Ashley shrieks.
I cut in front of them and swerve onto the path, earning Kyle’s “Holy shit!”
And that’s when it all goes to hell.
The path cuts more sharply to the right than I expected, and I’m going too fast to try to correct us.
We crash into the lake.
Darian’s Elmo sleeping attire isn’t nearly as comical tonight as it was the night of the bat incident.
Maybe it’s because she trudged out in her rubber boots just in time to watch Kyle, Eric, and two guys who were by the beach at the time of the accident pull the submerged golf cart out of the lake.
Or maybe it’s because the four of us are lined up against the rec center wall like it’s some kind of firing squad drill and I half-expect Darian to pull out a rifle and end us. Her normally peppy personality has been replaced by a hard jaw and a stern glare.
“Do y’all realize how much each of those carts costs?” Her arms are crossed over her chest. “At least six grand each. At least! And maybe this one will run after it dries out and we assess the damage, but it’s likely going to need new parts! And think of what could have happened!”
Eric holds his wrist gingerly in front of him. He slammed it against the golf cart’s frame when Ashley maneuvered to avoid crashing with the maniac—me—who was barreling toward her.
“Go to the kitchen and get some ice on that,” she says in a clipped tone.
“It’s fine—” he begins to say.
“Now!” Darian barks.
Eric flashes wide eyes our way before ducking his head and trudging into the kitchen.
Ashley and I exchange a look that confirms what we both know—we are in deep shit.
Darian takes an exaggerated, calming breath. “Okay. Tell me exactly what happened.”
I open my mouth to take full blame.
“It’s my fault,” Kyle blurts out. “I bet Eric I could beat him in a race and I lost control.”
I glare at him. Is he nuts? He’s not taking the blame for this. “No, it was—”
“I convinced him to take the carts out of the lot,” he says over my voice, his hand grazing the small of my back. “I’m sorry. I screwed up, Dare.”
I turn to look at Ashley. She stands there, petrified, her lips pursed together.
Eric reappears. “This is all I could find,” he mutters, holding a bag of frozen peas.
“No!” Darian’s face pinches with annoyance. “We need those for dinner.”
“Ugh. Really. Peas?” Eric grimaces.
“Did you check the freezer in the back?”
“No. But this will work, won’t it?”
“No, it’s our food, Eric!” They begin bickering.
It gives me a moment to turn to Kyle. “You are not taking the fall for this.”
“Yeah, I am,” he murmurs under his breath. “This is my fault. None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for me.”
“No! I’m not—”
“I know how to deal with Darian. Just shut up and let me, okay?” He slips his fingers into mine, to squeeze them once.
“Go and put those peas back before they spoil.” Darian points toward the kitchen.
Eric drags his feet back inside.
“You two—” She gestures at Ashley and me. “Get back to your cabins right now. You, a word.” Her eyes narrow at Kyle.
“Go. I’ll take care of this,” he whispers, giving the small of my back a gentle push.
“Now!” Darian yells.
We scurry away, leaving Kyle and Darian to face off.
“I warned you about keeping your nose clean this year, Kyle,” I hear her say.
He dips his head. “You did.”
“You know what this means. You know I can’t allow counselors who behave like this to stay. And dragging those girls into it? I know this was not their idea.”
“We are so stupid,” I mutter, my feet moving slowly as I watch the exchange—seeing Kyle’s head hanging and Darian’s hands waving dramatically, her head shaking furiously—over my shoulder.
“They don’t think when they get together,” Ashley whispers.
“No, all of us!” I’m stupid. I should have known better. I know Kyle’s situation. If she fires him, he’ll have to go back to that cockroach-infested hole. Unlike me, he really needs this job. Why would he risk all that? “We can’t let Kyle take the blame, Ashley.”
“Maybe she’ll cool down and we can talk to her tomorrow? Darian always gives those two a pass.”
“I’m not so sure it’s going to happen this time.” I pause behind a hedge to watch the rest unfold.
Eric comes out with what appears to be an appropriate ice pack against his wrist. Darian’s hands are on her hips as she lectures them some more. Both of them tip their heads back. They’re saying something, but she just keeps shaking her head.
No, no, no . . . it’s saying.
Finally, she waves them away, toward the boys’ cabins.
They look at each other once before they walk away, dragging their feet. Kyle’s hands are locked together against the back of his neck.
Darian takes a seat at the nearby picnic table and braces her forehead in her hands. Her body language oozes resignation.
What if Kyle has finally run out of passes?
Dread fills me. I can’t imagine the summer here without him. I won’t last a day.
“Are you coming?” Ashley whispers.
“I’ll catch up.” I double back.
Darian turns to regard me when I’m about ten feet out, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. Even in the poor lighting, she looks exhausted. “Piper, I told you to go back—”
“It wasn’t Kyle and Eric driving. It was Ashley and me,” I blurt out. Sorry, Ashley. “And I’m the one who put the cart into the water, because I was racing Ashley and going too fast.”
Darian sighs. “And you two came up with the idea to race golf carts all on your own?”
“Yes.”
I get a knowing glare in return. She doesn’t believe that for a second.
“Please don’t fire them.”
“Kyle and Eric took those carts out, knowing that they were explicitly told not to. More than once.”
I shake my head firmly. “No, I took them. So punish me.”
Her eyebrows arch. “You took both of them?”
I make a sound of agreement, dropping my gaze to my shoes.
“You’re willing to take all the responsibility from those two hooligans?”
Three, technically, if you count Ashley. “Yes.” Because the truth is, me losing this job won’t affect my future. It won’t deprive me of spending money next year. It won’t limit my college application or future career. All it’ll do is bruise my ego. And my parents’. I’m not sure who it would hurt more—my nostalgic mother or my prideful father.
“I’ll pay for the damages. It won’t cost the camp a thing, I promise.” My stomach tightens at the prospect of that phone call with my mother. “Please don’t fire them,” I ask again, in a more pleading tone.
“I don’t want to. Losing counselors the first week of camp throws everything off.” She drags her fingers over the picnic table. “Get to your cabin.”
I bite my bottom lip, hesitating. “So, you’re not going to fire them?”
“I don’t know. I need to give this some thought. I will let you guys know tomorrow morning. Now go on.”
I trudge back through the dark, quiet campground, preparing myself for a sleepless night, but holding on to hope.
