I realize I’m not listening to anything Orla says about the camp as the puppies reach us and Xander scoops them both up under his arms. Twisting the shiny aluminum name tags hanging from their collars, I try to suppress a laugh when Salmon and Trout is staring back at me.
A laugh through the speaker drags me back to the present and when I look back to the front of the room Orla is staring at us. “I see the dogs are doing their usual trick of outshining me. For those of you who have been with us before, Fish had puppies a couple of months ago and she’s very proud of them. Fully expect you may get back to your cabin one day to find them in your bed.”
There are murmurs around the room as others on the front row lean forward to catch a look at the fluffy bundles currently boxing each other in my roommate’s arms.
I commit to paying attention as Orla explains a lot of the things I already know from the brochure about a typical day, expected behavior, days off and what to expect until the campers arrive in a week.
There’s something about the idea of teambuilding that makes me shiver. Icebreakers are my least favorite thing to do and I’ve basically signed myself up for a week of them.
Orla continues with her introduction and a puppy crawls into my lap, right beside its mom’s head, and falls asleep. “Onto the important stuff. I’m sure it won’t come as a surprise to you, but alcohol and drugs are strictly prohibited, even if you are of legal age . . . which most of you aren’t. You are here to give our campers a magical summer, if you wanted to spend your summer under the influence, you should have gone on vacation instead.”
Kris, Bobby and Mattie’s faces immediately pop into my head. They said something similar when I countered their offer to go to Miami with working at camp with me.
“For many of our kids, this summer will be the highlight of their year, so keep that in mind when you think about showing up with a hangover. And, finally, everyone’s favorite topic . . . Romance. Here at Honey Acres we have a zero-fraternization policy, which if breached will result in contract termination. This is, of course, for the well-being of our campers, but also for your sanity. You have ten weeks together and, trust me, it goes very slowly when you desperately wish you could escape someone who seemed like a great idea when you had your camp goggles on.”
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.