“Rory, the smell. I can’t do it.”
Emilia’s hands cover her mouth has she tries to smother the sound of her retching. I can’t help but roll my eyes at her as she takes a cautious step back from the vomit-soaked bedding I’m bundling into a laundry bag. “You’re such a baby. It isn’t that bad.”
“You can’t make me do this during Pride. It’s a hate crime, Aurora.”
We started sneaking alcohol from our parents when we were freshmen in high school. I’ve personally held Emilia’s hair back while she vomits more times than I care to remember, but the idea of dealing with someone else’s sick is apparently abhorrent to her.
I tie the laundry bag tight at the top and hold it out to her. “Can you please get rid of this and send the nurse over?”
Snatching the bag from my hands, she nods and runs out of the cabin, shouting, “love you,” over her shoulder.
“Auroraaaaaa!” The sound of my name echoes from inside the bathroom block attached to the kids sleeping area, but is immediately followed by the sound of barfing.
My name being called in that exact way was how I was first alerted to vomit-gate.
We’ve spent the day celebrating Pride. I have glitter in places no woman should have glitter, which isn’t a surprise after Xander was put in charge of it and he put it on every surface. When we did our diversity and inclusion training, Orla explained we wouldn’t be doing our Pride event until after the fourth of July. One of the campers’ moms manages up-and-coming singers and they were going to do a performance for the kids but wouldn’t be available until today.
You lose all track of days in this place anyway, so they could have told me it was still June and I’d have believed them.
I thought I had an easy night ahead of me when Jasmine told me she didn’t feel well and wanted to go to bed straight after dinner. Maya and Clay are on night duty, but I said I didn’t mind hanging out with Jasmine until they brought all the other kids to bed this evening.
Her temperature was fine when I checked it, so I told her to sit on her bed while I retrieved some face wash to get the glitter and rainbows off her cheeks and that’s when I heard my name.
I don’t know how she managed to cover her bed and herself, but she did. I sent her for a shower while I stripped her bedding, which is when Emilia swung by to see if I wanted a soda.
Poking my head into the cubicle, I find Jasmine sitting on the floor looking sorry for herself. Her eyes fill with tears as soon as she spots me and her bottom lip begins to wobble. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweet girl.” Crouching behind her, I pull her now wet hair out of her way as she puts her head over the toilet again. “You’ll feel better when you’re done.”
“I think I had too much candy,” she mumbles.
“I think you did too.”
“I want my mom.”
“I know, sweetie. But let’s get you cleaned up and then we can get your mom on the phone.”
Eventually, her body has had enough and I help her from the floor just in time for Kelly, the camp nurse, to show up and check her over. As suspected, there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with Jasmine other than overindulgence and overexcitement. When it’s the two of us again, I sit Jasmine on the counter while I head to grab her wash bag.
It doesn’t take me long to spot him considering how hard he is to miss, but I’m still surprised. “You stealing teddy bears now, Callaghan?”
Russ looks up from his position bent over Jasmine’s bunk, bedsheet in hand. “Yeah.” He points toward a laundry bag behind him. “I particularly like the ones that smell like death.”
“I don’t know how one little girl can cause so much destruction. Thank you, you didn’t have to remake her bed. I could have done it.”
“Your hands are full. Emilia couldn’t tell us what had happened without gagging, so I thought it was better to investigate.”
I grab the washbag and another pair of pajamas from the drawer under Jasmine’s bed and get back to her quickly. She has the same queasy look as earlier, but the color is returning to her cheeks a little. She climbs down and changes into fresh pajamas; I brush and braid her hair while she brushes her teeth.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door and when I answer, Russ is on the other side of it with Jasmine’s water bottle. “She’s probably dehydrated.”
Why are you so freaking cute? “You’re right, thanks.”
“The bed is done and I’ll take the bear to the laundry room. Do either of you need anything else?” I shake my head. “Alright, I’ll get out of your way then.”
“Thank you.”
I watch him walk away before closing the door, turning back to Jasmine and handing her the water bottle. She frowns. “You’re acting weird.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are. You’re being shy. You’re never shy, you always talk and talk.” For a kid who just barfed everywhere, she’s surprisingly astute. “Leon said Russ is your boyfriend.”
I ignore the immediate panic and instead concentrate on wiping the glitter from her face, because apparently even a shower wasn’t getting rid of it. “Leon is wrong.”
“Leon says you two look at each other all day and you always stand next to each other.”
Leon is getting pushed into some mud tomorrow. “We’re friends. I’m friends with all the counselors. If you stand next to Leon does that make him your boyfriend? No.”
“Leon said you’d deny it.”
What the hell is this face paint made of? “I think maybe Leon needs to spend less time gossiping and more time playing with his friends.”
“He knows everything about everyone. He told us Mona’s big sister is in the Raccoons and cried because she has a crush on Russ.”
The rainbow finally begins to rub off and freedom from this conversation is so close I can taste it. Leon’s dad owns an intrusive paparazzi-driven tabloid, which I have sadly been featured in, so it does not surprise me that Leon doesn’t know how to mind his own business.
I sigh, suddenly feeling guilty for all the years I terrorized Jenna. “Mona’s big sister is fourteen and is far too young for any of the counselors. She should crush on someone her own age.”
“Are you jealous? You sound jealous.”
Give me strength. “Adults don’t get jealous of children, sweetie. But I’m assuming all these questions mean you’re feeling well enough to be more than six feet from the toilet. I think it’s time to get you back into bed. You still wanna call your mom?”
“No, it’s okay.”
Jasmine climbs into her now-clean bed as Jenna walks into the room. “Hey, honey.”
“Hey,” I respond.
“Not you,” she grumbles at me, crouching down beside the bed. “I heard you’re not feeling great.”
Jasmine gives Jenna a recap on how she’s feeling, kindly complimenting my hair holding skills, and Jenna nods along until Jasmine is done, eventually declaring she’s going to stay with her and will check on her regularly, but to get some sleep.
Jenna mouths, “you’re welcome.” as I leave.
The party is still going when I head outside, the unmistakable sound of karaoke in full swing, but I know I smell disgusting so opt to head back to my cabin for a shower. I’ve been to Pride events every year since Emilia came out to me when we were fifteen and this is the first one I’ve ever had to leave to get rid of the smell of sick.
As much as I want to climb into bed, I head back toward the evening activity to help out my team with our kids. I’m halfway there when Clay shouts me from the other side of the path. “How’s Jas?”
“She’s fine, just too much candy and excitement.”
He sticks his hands into his shorts pockets and nods his head in the direction of the main building. “Can you help me find the marshmallows? We’ve run out of the gelatin-free ones.”
I fight the urge to sigh, because it isn’t him, it’s me and my desire to sit in front of the fire with a dog or three, surrounded by graham crackers. But if he doesn’t find them, I won’t be eating, so I nod and cross the grass to join him.
“How’re you enjoying camp? I can’t believe we’re halfway already.” I smile up at him and his attempt at small talk, which he catches immediately. “That was a boring question. Sorry, I never get a chance to talk to you on your own.”
I’ve been actively avoiding any one-on-one time with Clay since our nightshift together because I’m not interested in him at all, not even as a friend at this point. I’m not totally clueless; I know he was just trying to nail me. Normally I’d have been drawn to the attention, but his lingering gazes make me feel uncomfortable. I think spending time with people who want to spend time with me because they like my company is helping. Clay looks at me like he’s undressing me. Russ looks at me like I’m telling him the world’s most interesting story.
It’s good to feel like I can offer something more. It feels good to feel like I deserve something more. My era of self-development and personal growth might have had a rocky start, but I’m getting there.
I’ve noticed Clay getting close to one of the lifeguards in the evenings after the campers are all in bed so hopefully he’s found someone new to chase.
“I love it here. I’ll be sad when the summer is over. What about you?”
I immediately zone out when he starts talking about all the things he could have done this summer instead of coming here. By the time he mentions his budding modelling career for the third time he may as well be talking another language. Pushing my way into the pantry, he follows me closely, telling me about the trip to Cabo he’s going to go on with his buddies before school starts again.
“You could definitely come if you wanted to,” he says, leaning against the shelves, offering zero help as I scan them looking for the marshmallow box.
“That’s kind of you but my passport is expired.” It’s not. “Thanks anyway.”
Beans, canned tomatoes, beans . . . Why do we have so many beans?
“Well, we’re not totally set on Cabo. We might go to Vegas.”
Sweetcorn, hot sauce, more beans . . . “I’m sure you’ll have a great time with your friends, wherever you end up. Oh! They’re here.” Stretching onto my tiptoes, I strain to reach the box of marshmallows so I can get the hell out of here.
“Let me help.” Clay’s body gets super close to mine, but not quite touching me. He reaches up, grabbing the box I can’t quite get and tucks it under his arm. He doesn’t step back when I turn around and when I look up, he’s looking down. He keeps looking down, as his head lowers and his eyes close.
The back of my neck prickles and my palms sweat. “I don’t want you to kiss me!”
My intention is to say it calmly. Coolly, even. A casual no thank you, I’m not interested, like an adult. But what actually happens is I accidentally yell it at him so loudly he jumps, immediately snapping up straight and opening his eyes. His instant reaction is confusion, because I’d hazard a guess that he’s rarely rejected, but he shakes it off quickly. “I wasn’t trying to kiss you, Aurora.”
I suppress the urge to argue that he was definitely trying to kiss me, because the sooner we move on from this the better, but I can’t ignore the opportunity to be petty. “Sorry, my mistake. You’re a great friend, Clay.”
The face he pulls when I say the word friend could be used to scare off crows in a field. “Sure thing,” he mutters, spinning with his box and hightailing it out of the pantry.
I take my time heading toward the campfire area, not wanting to bump into my great friend Clay on the walk, and when I reach everyone, the kids are all sipping hot chocolate and looking exhausted, winding down from their day of partying.
“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Emilia asks as I take a seat in the camp chair between her and Xander. Russ is chatting to Maya on the other side of the fire, so it feels safe to share.
“Clay tried to kiss me in the pantry and when I stopped him, he told me he wasn’t trying to kiss me.”
Xander’s laughter is louder than the campers combined and he slaps a hand over his mouth as all the kids begin to look at him. “Sorry,” he scoffs. “What did you say?”
“I told him he’s a great friend.” That sets Xander off again and I have to wait for him to stop. “I wasn’t misinterpreting, I swear. He was right up close with his eyes closed, leaning in. And he’d just invited me to Cabo.”
“How lucky are you,” Emilia snickers. “You love Cabo.”
“I told him my passport is expired.”
The kids are all too worn out to want anything, so the rest of the evening is spent with Xander and Emilia laughing, mainly at my expense. By the time the kids are going to bed and we’re heading back to our cabin for an early night, I think Emilia and Xander have talked about every silly thing I’ve ever done.
It’s weird hearing those stories now and how a little effort and the right setting can make you feel like a different person. I’m not saying I’ll never do anything irresponsible again, but being at Honey Acres makes me feel at home. Being disconnected from my phone most of the time keeps me present and I have so much to feel thankful for. It’s more difficult to remember that when I’m reminded of the things I don’t have every time my dad lets me down.
Emilia heads into the bathroom to clean up and I change into an oversized t-shirt. I think I imagine the knocking at first, until it happens again, followed by the sound of whining. As smart as Fish is, she can’t knock on doors, so I’m not surprised to find Russ at the bottom of the porch steps with her when I open the door. Illuminated by the light, I watch as his eyes rake me up and down, setting every inch of my exposed skin on fire.
I should stay in the doorway.
There’s no reason for me to walk out to him. I can see and hear him perfectly fine from the safety of my cabin. But, of course, I move to stand right in front of him. There’s glitter on the bow of his top lip; I fight to keep my hands by my side. “Hello.”
“Hi. I wanted to check you were okay.” My eyebrow quirks. “Xander.”
That little gossip.
He’s as bad as Leon.
“I’m okay. It’s no big deal.” He nods, shuffling on the spot. I can’t imagine Xander reported that I needed checking on, since I wasn’t upset. “Why are you really here, Russ?”
His hand rubs the back of his neck, something I haven’t seen him do in a while.
You, sir, are nervous.
“I don’t know, Rory.” He sighs and his hand reaches out to move my hair from my face. “I wanted to see you.”
I lean in toward him, the faint smell of sandalwood and vanilla hanging in the air. I watch the flicker of uncertainty cross his face before he takes a step closer to me. My voice lowers. “Are you jealous?”
“Of course, I am.” He says it so candidly that it catches me a little off guard. “I sort of want to punch him and I don’t understand why.”
It takes every scrap of self-control to not throw myself at him. I’d love to push this, wind him up, see what he does. But jealousy is only fun when you can do something about it. “You don’t need to be jealous and you don’t need to punch him. Mainly because that’s silly, but also because you need this job, remember.”
“I do need this job.” He nods once, then twice like he’s having a debate in his head I can’t hear and, on the third nod, he takes a step away from the porch. “Do you want to go on a hike tomorrow?”
“I have to work.”
“Xander said he’ll swap with you so we can have the day off together.”
“When you say hike, do you mean hike hike? Or do you mean I complain while walking uphill to our spot and then we hang out in the sun?”
His dimples appear as he smiles, melting me from the inside out. “Our spot.”
“That’d be good but, like, only if he’s sure he doesn’t mind.”
“He doesn’t.” He takes another step away and I really, really wish he’d kiss me goodnight. “Goodnight, Rory. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Russ.” He waits on the spot until I’m back in my cabin so I don’t have to watch him leave, like he does every time without fail.
Emilia’s drying her hair with a towel when I get back inside. She nods towards the door. “What’d I miss?”
“I think I’m having my main character moment.”
“Freaking finally,” she says, turning on her hairdryer.
