Give Me a Sign(30)

“No luck?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should have made her take it out.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” he says and signs. “You’ll only have to pay a couple thousand.”

“What?” I do not have that kind of money. My parents are going to be so mad.

“I’m joking. I’m joking.” He swings his backpack around and pulls a blank form out of a folder. “It’s probably all under warranty, but Gary will have to call Savannah’s parents and let them know. You just need to fill out this accident report.”

“That doesn’t sound great.” I stare at the form. There are a lot of questions on it.

“We go through plenty of them. Any lost items, or even something as simple as a Band-Aid for a scratch, we have to fill out a report for.”

“I really should have made sure she took it off first.”

“Campers lose things.” Ethan shrugs. “We try not to have them lose the expensive things, but there’s always a lesson to be learned.”

“Ouch.”

Ethan laughs. “Sorry, that was a bit lecture-y.”

“Yeah, got plenty of that from Mackenzie already.”

“You’re doing fine, I promise. Just get the paperwork done at lunch.”

* * *

It’s pool time this afternoon, and I’ve still got my swimsuit on underneath my clothes because there was no point in changing after the lake.

Honey bounces up and down at the shallow end to keep her head above the water. I take a seat on the stairs nearby, not wanting to get my hair wet again if I can manage that.

“Like,” Honey signs to me. “I know ——。”

I shake my head. “Again, please.”

Honey rolls her eyes and gives me one word at a time. “Like.”

“You like swimming?” I say and sign.

She waves her hands to indicate that I’m on the entirely wrong path here. She tilts her head. “No, pay attention.”

I know that phrase well because Ethan uses it every day during announcements. After this morning’s cochlear incident, I’m a little unsure about myself, but I know Honey would make a fantastic counselor one day.

I glance around, wondering if someone could interpret for me, but the only person I see is Natasha. She seems to grimace at me before looking away, likely assuming exactly what I was going to ask of her. So I turn back to Honey and slide both hands forward alongside my face, giving an agreeable expression and signing, “Okay, I pay attention.”

“I . . . ” Honey signs slowly. “Know . . . someone . . . like . . . you.”

“Someone like me?” I say and sign. “Like, a friend who looks like me?”

“No.” She snaps her fingers. Then she gives a large, silly grin. “A boy. A boy likes you.”

“Uh, no,” I say. “You’re too funny.”

“Not funny! Fine, I won’t tell you who.” She holds a finger to her lips, but points across the pool to where Isaac is floating on brightly colored noodles with his campers. Honey giggles and paddles away from me.

Okay, my interest is piqued. But even if Isaac actually does like me, how would Honey know?

Once she’s farther away, Blake practically materializes beside me. “Throw me!” She points toward Isaac, who is now tossing his campers up out of the water to plunge back down with a big splash.

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do that,” I say. “But you can hold on to my shoulders and I’ll swim around?”

“Fine.”

As we wade through the water, another one of our campers grabs onto my arm. And another onto my other arm. On a normal day, I might not entertain this, since it’s taking all my energy to drag these girls around the pool, but they’re having the time of their lives, and I need to prove to myself that I can be a good counselor. Staying upright is difficult at the deep end, where I have to be on my tiptoes, but I’m a few steps away from more solid footing in the shallow part when someone grabs me tight around the stomach and pulls us all underwater.

I pry the little kid’s arms off and jump back to the surface, helping the girls to the side of the pool, where we all try to catch our breath. The young boy, Cole, swims after us. “I wanna play, too!” he shouts.

“No,” I say sternly, still coughing up water. “You can’t jump on me like that.” I turn to my campers. “Girls, are you okay?” They all nod.

Cole doesn’t move away, though. He reaches out to grab my shoulders while kicking his legs to splash up a ton of water. “My turn!”

“No, no, no,” I say and sign, turning away to cover my face. I will draw the line at behavior that endangers anyone. No good counselor would tolerate that anyway.

I look up across the water to see Oliver, who’s approaching the edge of the pool beside us and blowing his whistle. He reaches down and lifts the boy off my shoulder.

“Can he hear me enough?” Oliver asks me. I shrug and nod.

“It’s not safe to jump on people,” Oliver tells Cole, talking loud and clear. “Remember our rules?”

“Sure.”

“Good,” Oliver says, standing back up. “Now apologize.”