I’d made it through a whole two and a half writing sample questions when one of the cabin doors burst open and Naomi bounced down the stairs like she was a woman on a mission. When she saw us, she smiled and waved. “What’s up, you two? Some kind of late-night rendezvous?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
I shifted on the bench, feeling like I’d been caught rounding second base on the principal’s desk by the big man himself. Callum finished whatever he’d been reading or trying to read, and tapped his study guide. “Try late-night study session.”
Naomi shuddered. “Well, if you’d rather do something else, for once”—she was looking at Callum when she said that—“we’re all getting together down at the arcade in town to raise some hell.”
“As fun as hell-raising sounds, I think I’m gonna take a pass. Make up for my absence.” Callum waved and got back to his study guide.
“I don’t know why I keep asking.” Naomi exchanged a look with me before motioning my way. “You in, Phoenix? Ethan’s a TBD, so you may or may not have to ward off his shameless advances.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to study, too.” I smiled in her direction. I liked Naomi. She was a girl who seemed to know what she wanted and didn’t feel the need to explain or apologize for any of it. “Have fun, though.”
She groaned loud enough the toad that had been croaking stopped. “You two are a couple of fun-mongers.”
“I prefer the term rationer over monger. I don’t hoard fun; I portion it out in carefully measured qualities. You know, that way I make sure I don’t run out before I hit my expiration date.” Callum flipped the page of his book, stone-faced.
This time, I shook my head at Naomi. “And that’s my cue to scoot.” She fired a wink at me and crunched down the gravel pathway to where the staff’s vehicles were parked. She was in heels, and her nails looked freshly painted—hell-raising was definitely on her agenda.
Naomi was one of the only counselors who seemed to go out of her way to try to include Callum. I wasn’t sure if this was because she was thoughtful or if she didn’t take a hint well or if, perhaps, it had something more to do with a crush of the secret kind. Callum might have been odd sixty ways to Sunday, but in the Teenage Girl’s Bible of Boys, he was the holy trinity of hot, aloof, and available.
I decided to test my secret-crush theory. “Have you and Naomi, you know…” I cleared my throat and tried to look natural. “Did you guys ever date…or anything?”
Or anything? Really, Phoenix? Good thing I was studying the English portion of the SAT because my mastery of it was seriously lacking.
Callum looked like he was repeating my question to himself. At first, he looked confused. And then that confusion ironed out into surprise. “What? No.” He shook his head. “God, no.”
“Why are you acting like going on a date with Naomi would be the highest form of punishment known to Callum-kind?” I asked, hiding my smile.
“Don’t pull that taking-words-out-of-my-mouth thing on me. I never said she wasn’t date-worthy. I just said she wasn’t date-worthy for me.” Callum waved his pencil at me like both he and his number two were against me.
“Why not?”
“Because we work together.” He flipped another page and shrugged. “And as a personal policy, I like to keep my life as uncomplicated as possible, and girls have a way of doing the opposite.” He glanced up from his book. “What about you? Have you found anyone here or back home date-worthy?”
My expression faltered for a second. Mainly because I wondered if his motives for asking me were the same as mine—to assess just how available or unavailable the other person was.
Going back into character, I gave a shrug. “I’ve recently adopted that personal policy of yours as well.”
“Why recently?” he asked. “If it has to do with Ethan, no explanation needed.”
“It doesn’t have to do with Ethan.”
“So if it isn’t Ethan, who or what’s responsible for the dating policy change?” Callum was trying to make it seem like he was studying, but his eyes weren’t moving across the page.
“Oh, you know, after I walked in on my boyfriend hooking up with someone else. Because it would have been so inconvenient if he’d broken up with me first, right?”
Callum grunted and shook his head. “God, what a tool.” His jaw clenched first, then his fists. “Your trust issues are really starting to make sense the more I get to know you.”
I made a face, not sure how to take that. “Yay?”
Getting back to my books after that, I pretended the reading comprehension paragraph on the growth of the colonies was killing it at eleven o’clock at night while I sat across a picnic bench from the one guy on the planet I might have considered abandoning that no-complications policy for.
I knew he was my boss on paper, and that summer romances never worked, and that I’d just gotten out of a relationship and shouldn’t be looking to hop into another one so quickly. I knew he was temperamental at best and unpredictable at worst. I knew he rubbed me in more wrong ways than right ones, and that I probably did the same with him.
But at that moment, sitting across from him, pretending to study for our SATs, I wasn’t thinking about the heap of reasons we didn’t make sense.
I was only thinking about the reasons we did.
I was just reaching for my cup of coffee at the same time he was reaching for his. Instead of the handles of our cups, our fingers wound up around each other’s. I froze, not sure what to do. I’d let him make the call. He could pull away or he could keep his fingers twisted through mine. Either way, I was letting him decide because I needed to know. I’d been pretty obvious—I thought—that I might have sort of been into him. He’d given away nothing.
It was time to find out if Callum felt something for me like I did for him.
At first, he looked almost as frozen as I knew I did, but after a moment, his expression thawed and he got back to studying. His fingers didn’t pull away from mine.
I tried to get back to studying. God, I tried. But how was I supposed to focus on a one-page story when I couldn’t focus long enough to get through the first sentence? How was I supposed to study for the SATs when we were holding hands…or holding fingers or whatever it was we were doing?
The pads of his fingers were rough like his palms looked, but the sides of his fingers were soft and smooth. When I glanced down at our hands, his fingers looked twice the size of mine, which was a big deal since I didn’t exactly have dainty hands. His skin was warm, but not so hot it felt searing. It was just right, like pressing my palm into a fresh blanket that had just come from the dryer.
“You’re not my trainer anymore, you know?” I said, once I’d accepted that studying was not in the stars for the night. Especially if the hand-slash-finger-holding continued. “Just in case you’re worried about that.”
I didn’t realize Callum had stopped rapping his pencil until he set it down on the table beside him. “That’s just one of the million things I’m worried about.” He looked at me the whole time he said this, but I could tell it was hard for him to not look away. It was almost like he was ashamed of what he was saying. I wasn’t sure why.
“What else?” I pressed, wanting to know.
Callum looked at our hands tied together. The skin at the corners of his eyes creased. “Everything else.”
I was about to reply with a Thanks for being so specific or something along those lines when the door of the cabin behind us exploded open. A familiar face came loping down the stairs. Ethan didn’t miss us at first like Naomi had. Instead, we seemed to be the very first thing he noticed.
“So this is why you’ve been shooting me down?” Ethan strutted toward us with a tipped smile on his face. Like Naomi, he looked dressed to party, too. “Because your tastes lean more toward the rugged and manly type.”
I pretended to focus on studying. “The manly part for sure,” I muttered just loud enough for him to hear.
Across the table, Callum
laughed silently.
“All right, I’ll let you two get back to your ‘studying.’ ” Ethan winked at us. “I’m on the prowl for my future ex-girlfriend.”
“Don’t let us keep you from destiny.” I swept my arm in the direction of the employees’ cars.
“Real quick, though, what are you guys ‘studying’?” Ethan leaned closer to see what we had sprawled all over the table. He didn’t look long before he bounced his brows a few times in my direction. “Chemistry?”
“Good-bye, Ethan,” I sighed.
He chuckled as he started backing away. “French?” He fired off next. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? Ce soir?”
Callum’s hand tightened around mine slightly as his jaw went rigid.
“You can go coucher yourself,” I said to him. “Ce soir. And the one after that. And the one after that, too.”
“Okay, so not French.” Ethan was almost out of sight, but his voice had a way of carrying. “I got it. You’re studying…human anatomy. Right?”
“Good-bye, Ethan,” I half shouted in his direction.
“He’s persistent. You have to give him that.” Callum finished laughing and picked up his pencil.
“I wish he’d take his persistence somewhere else already.” I sighed and scribbled a note down in my study guide that had nothing to do with the actual subject I was studying. I started to reach for my mug.
I didn’t make it far.
Callum’s fingers tightened around mine and held my hand where it was. I’d forgotten we were holding hands. I’d forgotten we were still holding hands.
Callum squeezed my hand gently, continuing to hold it in place. “It calms me” was all he said, before he started working out the first problem on the page.
I was doing it. Leading my first official activity as a newly minted Camp Kismet counselor. It was a pretty great feeling.
I’d taken the lead and Evan was bringing up the rear, and in the middle were fifteen campers with varying degrees of mountain biking experience. Harry had come along today, not about to miss the first activity I got to lead, and even though he’d become more comfortable on a bike this summer, he was still a bit nervous when it came to the more technical stuff. Sure, everyone was on real mountain bikes and we were pedaling down trails, but the elevation stayed pretty much the same, and other than an occasional root or branch, the trail was impediment-free.
At first, I’d been relieved when Callum told me which trail I’d be leading campers on, but after mile two, I was fighting off a series of yawns.
The first few campers behind me had been whining about it for the last ten minutes and had eventually joined me in the yawning department. I was in the lead, and I had to set the pace to accommodate for the least-skilled rider. Which was Harry. Which meant I was clipping down a flat trail at about the pace my grandma’s motorized scooter peaked at.
What felt like five and a half hours later, we hit the mile four marker. Just in time, too, because it looked as if half the campers were about to tumble off their bikes from falling asleep at the handlebar.
The fifteen campers crawled off their bikes and leaned them up against a tree, and most took a seat on the ground. Evan waved down at me, and I was pretty sure I’d seen him more awake at five o’clock in the morning when we had to show for an early activity. I found Harry a few bikes in front of Evan and walked back to see how he was doing.
“How are you doing, Harry?” I asked, moving in to help him position his bike against the tree. He slid in front of me so he could do it himself.
It went against everything in me, but I let him do it on his own.
“Good.” He shrugged a shoulder.
“Having a good time?” I fished. If anyone could be relied upon to find something thrilling about today’s ride, it would be the sheltered ten-year-old who’d only learned to ride a bike without training wheels two years ago.
“Pretty good.” Another shrug.
His back was to me, so I stepped around in front of him. It was just as I’d feared. Even my little brother, the one who I knew to be the least experienced on the ride, looked bored to tears. Actual tears. His eyes were red-rimmed and everything.
“Oh my god. You’re bored. You’re not having any fun at all, are you?” I groaned and banged my helmet against the tree again. “Is it really that bad? I thought it was…” I chewed my lip as I searched for the right word. “Scenic.”
“Oh yeah, scenic for sure.” Harry unsnapped the buckle of his helmet. “I had plenty of time to take in the scenery.”
“Well, excuse me. I didn’t know I was talking to a mountain biking pro. Maybe you’d like to lead the rest of the way.” I swept my hand up to the front of the trail.
Harry’s face lit up. “Really?”
I frowned. “No. Not really.” I grumbled the rest of my way up to Evan, who was, yep, snoring. I nudged him in the side with the toe of my sneaker. He didn’t move.
“Evan,” I said, toeing him a little harder.
Still nothing.
Grabbing his water bottle from the bike cage, I twisted it open and squeezed a stream down on him. It was one thing for campers to be taking a nap, but he was on the clock. No snoozing allowed.
He didn’t jerk awake like I thought he would. Instead he groaned, stretched his arms above his head, and opened his eyes. “Thanks. I didn’t have time for a shower this morning, so I can check that off the to-do list now.” He wiped the water from his face and sat up.
“The campers are bored,” I said.
Evan leaned past me and skimmed his eyes down the line. His brows moved into his hairline. “No shit.”
“What should I do?” I crouched down beside him, hoping he’d have some magical solution for how to fix this. I couldn’t have everyone avoiding my future activities once word spread around camp that I was Counselor Boring. I didn’t want to be downgraded to arts and crafts time in the dining hall every afternoon.
“Uh, I don’t know…” Evan blinked at me. “Not be boring?”
“Have any suggestions?” I asked impatiently.
“Yeah. Stop crawling. There’s a tip,” Evan said around a yawn.
I resisted the urge to punch him in the arm. I liked Evan. He was a laid-back, chill guy who was always willing to step in and lend a hand. Unlike his brother, he didn’t look at me as if I was housed inside a display case.
When he yawned again, I wasn’t so sure how much more I liked Evan over Ethan.
“Callum told me to hold to six to seven miles per hour on this ride. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.” I’d checked the speedometer clipped onto my bike so many times over the past four miles I had a neckache.
“And if Callum told you to lead a watching-the-grass-grow activity tomorrow, would you do that, too?” Evan quirked a brow at me.
“Are you suggesting I basically go against what I was told to do?” I felt my forehead line. Evan didn’t strike me as a rule breaker. He didn’t even come across as much of a rule bender.
“There’s a difference between breaking all the rules and making a few adjustments to them.” He clucked his tongue. “I’m suggesting you make a few minor adjustments before the troops stage a revolution.”
I swallowed and found myself looking at Harry. He was slumped on the ground, kicking at a tree root. He looked like I was forcing him to watch an eighties romance movie marathon—while wearing matching pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers. “What kind of adjustments?”
“Your call. But good luck getting any of these campers to sign up for whatever activities you’re leading on your second and third day on your own.” He tipped his head at one of the campers up toward the front who looked like he was napping. “Because unless you’re giving a guided tour through the sleep cycle, you’re leading your next mountain bike ride alone.”
I popped to a stand. “Aren’t you supposed to be here for support?”
“Support, sure. Fanning sunshine up your ass, not so much.” He flashed me a wide smile and shrugged. “
Hey, where are you going?” he called after me when I started to walk away.
“Off to make a few adjustments,” I replied, just loud enough for him to hear as I stormed past the bored or napping campers. Now I was pissed. Evan had pretty much just accused me of being a snoozefest, and every last camper on the ride was showing the same with their expressions or chorus of yawns. I was pissed at Callum, too—for assigning me such a rookie ride for my first trip. I got that he wasn’t going to assign me anything like advanced navigating or river kayaking, but come on. This was an activity that had senior center stamped all over it.
When I got to my bike, I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled down the line, “Heading out, everyone! Make sure your tires are good and your helmets are on! We’re going to up the pace a little, so be ready!”
One of the guys up front nudged his wife. “From a snail’s pace to a turtle’s? Can’t wait.”
I waited for everyone to get their helmets on and give their tires a quick check. Harry was smiling up at me, his eyes excited. It was the first excitement I’d seen since heading out from camp.
“Everyone good?” I called back.
A few verbalized their answers, but most nodded. Reluctantly.
I climbed onto my bike and started down the trail at a slow pace, waiting for everyone to follow. At the end of the line, Evan fanned his hand over his mouth as he yawned at me. Shooting him a glare, I picked up the speed. Instead of cruising at six to seven miles per hour, I’d just tipped the eight miles per hour threshold.
When I glanced over my shoulder again, unlike the smiles and wide eyes I’d expected to see, I saw a whole lot of the same. What did it take to give these people a thrill, for crying out loud?
I knew there was a Y in the trail ahead. I’d never taken the detour at the upcoming Y, but I knew enough about the rest of this trail to know the first half of the ride had been the “exciting” part.
So when that Y popped out of the trail, faster than I remembered it coming, I took it. The camper right behind me was so surprised by the sudden detour, he almost missed it. I glanced back as long as I dared, just to make sure everyone was following, then turned my attention back on the trail.