Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)(22)
I lean toward Xander, lowering my voice. “Camp goggles?”
He chuckles. “You’ll see. Everyone is attractive after a month.”
She finishes by explaining that all staff can hang out together in the shared staff areas, but not in each other’s cabins and a few other perfectly reasonable rules I’m going to have no problems keeping. The last thing I need is to be sent back to Maple Hills midsummer because I fucked up. Again.
Today is a settling in day, since so many people are tired from traveling and the final step of our welcome is meeting the group of people we’ll be working with for the next ten weeks.
The kids are separated into one of four groups: Raccoons, Brown Bears, Foxes and Hedgehogs. Each animal represents an age group and each group has six counselors who work on rotation to make sure there are always four counselors available each day and two overnight.
I put my preference as Brown Bears, which are kids aged eight to ten, because they’re old enough to not be totally needy but young enough that I’m not going to potentially be fighting an attitude for just over two months. Unlike a lot of other summer camps where campers stay for a week or two before heading home, our kids are here for the entire duration.
One of the staff starts calling out names and people head toward their groups. I try to put the puppy back on the floor in preparation, but it squeaks until I give up.
“Brown Bears, you’re up . . . Clay Cole . . . Alexander Smith . . .” Xander stands, opting to take the puppy with him after watching my failed attempt. “. . . Emilia Bennett . . . Russ Callaghan . . .”
I stand to join my group, Fish close behind my feet, as more names are called. My group is busy getting acquainted with the puppy still in Xander’s arms and, as I approach, one of them turns around.
My heart sinks as I immediately recognize the girl staring back at me.
I don’t need to calculate the probability of who Emilia might be here with, it’s written into every bit of her shocked face. I know she’s here, because the universe loves nothing more than to drag me to hell and back for fun.
Emilia’s eyes look past me and I turn instinctively, immediately spotting the same blond hair that my face was buried in less than twenty-four hours ago.
It takes her an extra second to spot me, but when she does, she stops in her tracks, her jaw slacking slightly as her eyes widen as she takes me in.
She looks like she’s seen a ghost. “Oh, shit.”
Chapter Eight
AURORA
“Oh, shit.”
I don’t mean to say it out loud. I was looking at the puppy. Why didn’t I just stay looking at the puppy?
Russ doesn’t say anything as we stare at each other. The easy, friendly smile from last night gone, replaced with something cooler, more guarded. My brain is scrambling for something to say, something that says, “Hey, I know we’ve seen each other naked and we thought we wouldn’t see each other again, but now we’re in the same group, so let’s not think about it again? Cool? Cool.”
I have thought about it though, even when I didn’t want to. My mouth starts to open, to say what, I don’t know, but slams shut before I have the opportunity to embarrass myself when he turns to face the rest of our group without uttering a word.
The silence stings.
And the irony isn’t lost on me, since I have ignored several one-night stands while passing by them on campus, but I’m not sure I’d even truly be my father’s daughter if my biggest talent wasn’t hypocrisy.
There’s nothing nasty about Russ’s reaction; I’m not sure there’s anything nasty about the guy who whispered how beautiful I am into the dark or folded the clothes he peeled off me into a tidy pile. I’m just surprised, I suppose, since he was so sweet last night.
I let the uncomfortable feelings linger, unwilling to push them away or attempt to soothe my growing unease. This is what you get for seeking comfort from strangers, Aurora.
Lesson learned.
“Hi everyone. My name is Jenna, or as I’m more commonly known, Fish’s mom. I’m the Brown Bears senior this summer, which means, as well as my responsibilities as one of the camp directors, I oversee your plans, make sure everyone is happy and healthy and help you navigate any tricky stuff that might come up with your campers . . .”
Taking a spot beside me, Emilia links her pinky with mine, her signal of solidarity and what-the-fuck rolled into one because of the currently brooding hockey player standing to our right. I’m trying to concentrate on Jenna’s introduction, but Russ keeps drawing my focus by the fact he won’t even look in my direction.
“. . . I’m going to give you all a tour of the main grounds. I recommend you all fill up your water bottles before we head out. When we’re done, we’ll have dinner together then the rest of the evening is yours to enjoy before the hard work starts tomorrow.”
Everyone heads to the water machines. When they’re all gone, Jenna’s professional smile slips into her real one and she lunges at me, pulling me into an oxygen-stealing hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“Can’t breathe, Jen.”
She releases me, taking my face in her hands instead. “I want to cry. I feel like my baby has come home; you’re so grown up now.”
My words catch in my throat and the overwhelming urge to sob floods me. Jenna was my counselor when I was a camper and as I aged up, so did she. She swore it was a coincidence, but I liked to tell myself it was because she wanted to hang out with me and, as a kid who just wanted to be wanted, it was bliss.