Jasmine climbs into her now-clean bed as Jenna walks into the room. “Hey, honey.”
“Hey,” I respond.
“Not you,” she grumbles at me, crouching down beside the bed. “I heard you’re not feeling great.”
Jasmine gives Jenna a recap on how she’s feeling, kindly complimenting my hair holding skills, and Jenna nods along until Jasmine is done, eventually declaring she’s going to stay with her and will check on her regularly, but to get some sleep.
Jenna mouths, “you’re welcome.” as I leave.
The party is still going when I head outside, the unmistakable sound of karaoke in full swing, but I know I smell disgusting so opt to head back to my cabin for a shower. I’ve been to Pride events every year since Emilia came out to me when we were fifteen and this is the first one I’ve ever had to leave to get rid of the smell of sick.
As much as I want to climb into bed, I head back toward the evening activity to help out my team with our kids. I’m halfway there when Clay shouts me from the other side of the path. “How’s Jas?”
“She’s fine, just too much candy and excitement.”
He sticks his hands into his shorts pockets and nods his head in the direction of the main building. “Can you help me find the marshmallows? We’ve run out of the gelatin-free ones.”
I fight the urge to sigh, because it isn’t him, it’s me and my desire to sit in front of the fire with a dog or three, surrounded by graham crackers. But if he doesn’t find them, I won’t be eating, so I nod and cross the grass to join him.
“How’re you enjoying camp? I can’t believe we’re halfway already.” I smile up at him and his attempt at small talk, which he catches immediately. “That was a boring question. Sorry, I never get a chance to talk to you on your own.”
I’ve been actively avoiding any one-on-one time with Clay since our nightshift together because I’m not interested in him at all, not even as a friend at this point. I’m not totally clueless; I know he was just trying to nail me. Normally I’d have been drawn to the attention, but his lingering gazes make me feel uncomfortable. I think spending time with people who want to spend time with me because they like my company is helping. Clay looks at me like he’s undressing me. Russ looks at me like I’m telling him the world’s most interesting story.
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.”