Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)(55)
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.