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.
It was like I could breathe again when we drove down the dirt road earlier, like I was finally where I’m supposed to be.
Jenna was eighteen when we first met, but unlike my actual big sister, Jenna was the one I’d always needed. She was the tooth fairy when I lost my first tooth here, my savior when I got my first period and my shoulder to cry on when I had my first kiss with Todd Anson and a day later he was kissing Polly Becker by the volleyball court.
“I spoke to you two days ago and it hasn’t been that long since we had a sleepover,” I laugh, freeing myself from her grip and taking the spot beside her. “When did you become so needy?”
“Yes, but it’s been three summers since you were here. Three summers too long.” I love her being needy, she knows I love it, but she plays along all the same. “Sorry, it’s the puppies. They’re making me maternal. Now I’m going to have to look at tall, muscular guys carrying them around all summer.” She sighs as she nods toward where Russ and the others are playing with the trio of golden retrievers. “It looks like Fish has picked her victim for the summer. She has good taste.”
If Russ can feel our eyes on him, he doesn’t look up. I shouldn’t be staring at him, but he looks as good, if not better than he did last night. I turn so my back is to him. “About him . . .”