One
Avery
Three Weeks Later — June
The blaring sound of my alarm jars me from sleep and causes me to bolt straight up in my bed. I quickly grab for my phone, bleary-eyed and frantic, to silence it and check the time.
Seven o’clock.
Fuck my life.
There’s not been one summer of my life where I’ve woken up this early for anything other than baseball. But as the fog of sleep slowly starts to lift from my brain, the realization of why I’m actually awake sinks in all over again.
I was supposed to spend the summer relaxing, hanging out with some of the guys who live in the area all year, or taking regular trips to the coast to escape the heat that tends to descend on the Portland-Vancouver area during the later parts of the summer. Instead, I’ll be spending the next eight weeks of my life corralling crotch goblins at a goddamn summer camp in the Oregon wilderness.
But then again, nothing about my life has been going the way I thought, though I’m smart enough to realize it’s of my own doing.
Groaning, I force myself from the warmth of my bed and start getting ready to meet my doom. My feet drag all the way through my morning routine, as if taking a ten-minute shower instead of five is going to delay the inevitable.
I finished packing last night, so all there’s left to do is put my toiletries together, haul the two duffels downstairs, and load them into my G Class parked in the garage, which I do a half-hour later.
Dad’s Escalade is still parked beside it, letting me know he hasn’t left for work yet, and when I walk back into the house, I find him standing in the kitchen with his back to me as he pops a pod into the Keurig. His hair—the same medium-blond color as mine—is combed and styled with gel, and he’s fitted in one of his custom three-piece suits.
“I thought you had a meeting this morning.”
He turns and leans against the counter. “Got pushed to the afternoon. But that just means I can see you off.”
Of course he’d want to. He’s the one who thought up this slightly hair-brained plot about to be set into motion.
As it turns out, Alpine Ridge is the same camp Dean Marshall’s brother, Colin, owns and runs. Dad is the one who does the books for the camp, and thanks to his friendship with Colin, it was easy enough for me to be hired as the camp’s newest summer counselor.
Yay me.
“You didn’t need to stick around,” I tell him, moving through the kitchen to grab a banana from the counter for a quick road snack. “I’m about to hit the road anyway.”
His coffee finishes brewing, making me think I can quickly sneak out while he fixes it to go. But he might as well have eyes in the back of his head, because even with his attention locked on pouring it into the thermos, he stops me from escaping.
“You really need to make a good impression, Avery. Don’t forget that.”
“Yeah, Dad. I got it,” I tell him, a little more snap to my tone than is probably merited. But I know what’s on the line here. I know better than anyone.
Dad’s theory of me working at the camp goes like this: By me getting into the dean’s brother’s good graces, I will, in turn, get back into the dean’s as well. And maybe once he’s seen the growth and progress I’ve made while working at the camp, I might be allowed back into Foltyn this fall.
It’s a long shot, maybe even downright insane, but it’s becoming more and more apparent that this might be my only chance to complete my degree on schedule. It’s too late to get into another school, even a community college. And even if I could, it would set me back almost an entire year, because not all my credits would transfer with me.
Getting back into Foltyn for my senior year is the only option.
So, while I have little to no faith it will work, I’m tossing all my eggs in this basket anyway. And praying for a goddamn miracle.
His gaze lifts, eyes narrowing on me. “Cut the attitude. You’re the one who got yourself into a mess so big, no amount of money I’ve thrown at the school in the past makes a difference now. Offering them more only makes it look like bribery to get you back in.”
I almost laugh because it was all rubbing elbows from the beginning anyway. The entire reason I got into Foltyn in the first place is due to it being his alma mater. That, and the sizable donation he made to the college, was more than enough to secure my position on the baseball team—because heaven forbid he say I’m talented enough to earn the spot on my own.
Then again, all he’s ever done is throw money at his problems and expect them to go away. And this is one circumstance where it just won’t happen.
“I’ll put my best foot forward. I promise.”
“You need to do more than that, Avery,” he says sharply. “You need to do everything in your power to win over Colin.”
“I know, Dad,” I say, this time a little more forcefully. “You saying it over and over again isn’t going to do anything but stress me out more when I feel like I’m already being thrown to the wolves.”
I expect him to continue pushing the subject. That’s who Dad is, after all. Driving his point home until I can hear him, word for word, while I fucking sleep. All he ever does is talk, meanwhile anything I have to say goes in one ear and out the other. So when he actually listens to me, dropping the subject, I finally feel a moment of relief.
But only for a moment.
“Look,” he says, voice finally taking a softer tone—something entirely different from him. “I hope you know I’m only hard on you because I want to see you succeed. I just hate knowing you possibly won’t get the chance because of one mistake.”
More like a series of mistakes.
A bit of emotion sticks in the back of my throat, so I just nod instead.
He does too before clapping me on the shoulder. “I hope you know I get it. The kind of… lifestyle your teammate has doesn’t sit well with me either. But no matter how disgusted we might be by the things they do together, the kind of crap you pulled can’t happen in the twenty-first century.”
All the blood rushing through my veins quickly turns to ice as his words register.
I bet he didn’t even notice the tone of his voice or the implication of what he’s said; the homophobia and bias laced in a statement that spilled from his lips without a second thought. Not when it came out as easily as it did.
Every time it happens, a set of claws digs into my brain and a venomous whisper fills my head like smoke. This time is no different.
Disgusting, like he said. Absolutely despicable.
Clearing my throat does nothing to help the way my heart is lodged in my throat, but I still manage to choke out my response past it.
“Yeah, Dad. I know.”
It’s something I’ve always known.
Just like I know the parts of myself I’ve refused to give voice to can never come to light. Because there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to accept the real me as his only son.
It’s a quick hour-and-a-half drive from our house in Vancouver to where Alpine Ridge Summer Camp is nestled in the forest near the base of Mount Hood. Much too quick for my liking, seeing as I’ve yet to work out how I’ll wriggle my way into the good graces of the camp director. Especially if he already knows about my history at Foltyn.
I’d be a fool to think he doesn’t—what happened made a lot of news channels around here—but part of me remains optimistic anyway. I have to, otherwise there’s no way I’ll be able to stick this out.
Something I doubt I’ll accomplish as it is. Because, while I might be an athlete, I’m the furthest thing from an outdoorsman.
Once I’m parked in the lot, staring at the massive lodge, the feeling of dread inside me only grows. But instead of wallowing in it, I shove it down before grabbing my bags from the trunk and heading toward the building I can only assume houses the camp director’s office.
An assumption that must be correct when a man who looks so similar to the dean, he has to be his brother, exits the lodge. His eyes lock on me while he waits at the top of the stairs leading to an expansive deck, and the authority radiating from him has my stomach revolting.
“You might as well be the spitting image of your father, Avery. Glad to see you made it,” he says, extending his hand to me as I reach him.
I accept it before giving it a firm shake, praying to God my hands aren’t as clammy as I think they are.
“Director Marshall,” I say, keeping my tone as even and professional as I can manage. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
His lips twitch a moment with a hint of amusement before he releases my hand. “The pleasure’s all mine. Let’s get you in my office and go over a couple things before we get you settled in.”
Not one to argue with my new boss, I follow him through the doors to the lodge and down a hall to the immediate left, not stopping until we reach the final door labeled “Director Marshall.” He pushes it open before motioning for me to enter, calling through a walkie talkie as he does to ask for a grounds escort to meet us at the lodge in ten minutes.
“Take a load off,” he says, nodding to the chair across from his desk. “We can chat for a bit while we wait for the rest of your welcoming committee.”
I do as he says, sliding into the chair as the door falls closed with a soft snick. When he takes a seat opposite me, I’m immediately taken back to the moment I was sitting across the desk from another Mr. Marshall. When my entire future unraveled before my eyes.
It only serves to remind me how important being here is.
“Thank you for making time for me this morning,” I start, doing my best to feel him out. See what he knows or what he’s heard—if anything. “I know camp is set to kick off tomorrow, and I was hoping you could give me a better feel for things before I’m—”
“Thrown to the wolves?” he supplies with a wry grin on his face, and when I wince at the idiom I used verbatim this morning, he lets out a deep laugh. “I’ve spoken to your father at length, and believe me, you’ve got nothing to worry about when it comes to working here. The kids are great—the counselors too. I have no doubt you’ll ease into the job just fine.”
I’m left staring at him, taken aback by the comfort radiating from him. Like a warm hug or something. He still has the air of authority—enough to have me on my best behavior—but it’s giving the exact opposite impression I made of Dean Marshall.
Which is…unexpected.
“Thank you, sir,” I manage, after finding my voice again. “It certainly makes me feel a bit better about spending the summer here.”
There’s a moment of silence while he studies me before he gives a quick nod. “I have to say, I was surprised when your father contacted me about getting you the job. Especially with how last minute it was.”
“Trust me, it was last minute for me too, sir.”
He waves before leaning back in his chair. “Call me Colin. There’s no need to stand on formality here, and I certainly don’t require any kind of power trip.” Another smile forms on his lips, this one a little more knowing. “If there’s one thing you’ll learn in your time here at Alpine Ridge, Avery, it’s that I’m not my brother.”
His mention of Dean Marshall sets my nerves on edge all over again, constricting my lungs and causing my heart rate to ratchet up a notch. “I’d never begin to presume you and Dean Marshall are the same person. Brothers or not.”
salt-and-pepper brow arches dubiously. “Really? So then you aren’t just here for the summer in hopes I’ll put a good word in for you to be reinstated at Foltyn come fall?”
Once again, I’m left speechless. Mouth hanging open, ready to defend myself, the words just won’t come out. They can’t. Whether it be from pure shock or unwillingness to lie to my boss in the first five minutes, I’m not sure. Either way, Colin doesn’t wait for me to give any sort of answer before continuing.
“I’ve known your father for a long time, Avery, and Jason Reynolds isn’t one to beat around the bush. Quite frankly, neither am I. So when I asked him why in the world you wanted to come work at a summer camp, he laid it all out for me.”
Well, fuck a motherfucking duck.
A wave of nausea hits me, and it’s like I can see my entire future blow to smithereens all over again. Because if all entails every piece of this plan Dad cooked up, then I’m screwed before we even begin.
“Colin, I—”
He holds his hand up. “I know it’s not your idea to be here. Even without your father telling me, it was obvious from the moment I saw you walk up those steps. You’ve never spent a day of your life at a summer camp. But that doesn’t matter to me.”
“It doesn’t?” I ask slowly, to which he shakes his head.
“What does is—while you’re here—you’ll not only give these kids your all, but you’ll also make the most of it for yourself.”
The tiniest bout of relief hits me, and maybe I’m not as screwed as I thought.
“Absolutely,” I tell him, my tone earnest. “My intention is to make the most of my summer here. You could tell me right now that you’re estranged from your brother or something, and I’d still make the decision to stay.”
A deep chuckle comes from him. “We’re far from estranged, though I don’t know how much help I’ll be in your quest to be reinstated as a student at Foltyn. If I know anything about Ian, it’s that he isn’t one to change his mind or give second chances lightly. And if he does, the number of times it’s happened can be counted on one hand.”
My heart, which had just started to soar with hope, is immediately shot down, falling into the pit of my stomach as it’s weighed down by the realization that this all might be in vain from the start.
Is it too late to take back what I said about staying no matter what?
He must take my silence as defeat, and he leans back in his chair. “I’m not trying to burst any bubbles for you, kid. But just like you’ve chosen to be up front with me, I’m choosing to be up front with you. I think there’s always hope, and that’s why I plan to give you the best shot I can by assigning you to Elijah’s group.”
Confusion is evident in my tone as I murmur, “Elijah?”
His lips lift in a smirk before he spins a picture frame sitting on his desk around to face me. Inside it is a photograph that can’t be more than a couple years old from Colin’s features alone. In the image, he’s standing beneath the Alpine Ridge sign hung over the entrance to the camp with a dark-haired kid who’s probably eight or nine.
“Elijah is my nephew. Who is also your dean’s son.”
All the wheels and gears in my brain come screeching to a halt at one tiny piece of information neither my father or I were aware of.
The dean has a son…and he attends camp here.
“I’m sorry…” I mutter, trying to wrap my brain around what is happening here. “After knowing everything—my mistakes at Foltyn, my father’s not-so-subtle scheming—you’re going to trust me with Dean Marshall’s son? Your nephew?”
There’s a gleam to Colin’s eyes when he nods. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.”
Yeah, brain is still not computing.
And from the way Colin laughs, my expression must make it extremely apparent.
“The only place Eli hates more than being home with his father is here,” Colin states before he gives me a what can you do? shrug. “He’s been coming for a few years now, but he doesn’t have fun. Usually spends most of the time alone or attached to my hip, rather than making friends with his peers. This is the summer I want to change that.”
I wet my lips, following his train of thought. But I’m not all that fond of the station it stops at. “So naturally, you’re blackmailing me into…what? Being his friend?”
Another deep chuckle bursts from him as he shakes his head. “Not at all. But I’d like to think of it as us doing each other a favor. A win-win, if you will. You keeping an eye on Eli for me and making sure he has a bit of fun this summer gives me one less thing to worry about while I’m running this place. In exchange, I’m more than happy to put in a good word for you with his father. And who knows,” he says, a slight twinkle in his eyes, “maybe you’ll make enough of an impact on the kid and he’ll do the same thing.”
Yeah, I highly doubt that. Kids have never been much of my thing, and I swear to God, they know it the second I walk in the room.
“I’ll do my best,” is all I manage. Because, honestly, what other option do I have at this point? I’ve been backed into a corner by my father, and now Colin is only trying to help me make the most of it.
Yet something about this whole situation doesn’t make sense to me.
My brows crash together in the center, and no matter how I try to work it out, I’m still left with one burning question unanswered.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but why would you help me? Knowing what I did, realizing my father plotted this whole thing to get me back into school… Why aren’t you just showing me the door?”
Colin’s head cants to the side as his dark eyes travel over my face, studying and analyzing it in the same way his brother did a few weeks ago. It’s the only time since I’ve met the man where I’ve truly felt a similar vibe from him.
And, for whatever reason, he must see something in me his brother didn’t.
“I’m a firm believer of second chances, Avery. Doing a bad thing doesn’t automatically make you a bad person. But I do want to be sure there won’t be any issues here this summer. With campers or counselors who might…” He trails off, clearly making an effort to word his thoughts correctly. “Lead a different life than you agree with.”
“Never,” I reply, my head shaking vehemently. “That part of me is in the past, and I never intend to make the same mistake again.”
His face softens, and for the first time, I feel truly at ease with the circumstances I’ve found myself in. Or as comfortable as possible, considering I still know jack shit about kids, summer camp, outdoorsing, or the job I’m meant to do for the next eight weeks.
But hey, this is a start.
“Great, then just know I’ve set you up with a good group of kids,” he tells me, attention shifting to the file folder on his desk he’s already begun flipping through. “And you’ll be paired with Kal for the duration of the program. He’s one of the best counselors we have on staff and knows this place like the back of his hand. Hopefully, with him by your side, you won’t feel like a fish out of water.”
I nod. “Thank you, si— Colin.”
His lips quirk at my catch. “Very good. Now, during the month of June, we like to—”
Wherever the rest of his thought was heading is cut off by his office door opening without warning, revealing a brown-haired young man with an all-too-familiar face on the opposite side of the threshold.
Kaleb LaMothe.
My now ex-teammate from Foltyn, who also happens to be the last person I’d ever want to see here. Or ever again, if I had a say in it.
After all, he’s the reason Coach—and in turn, the dean—found out about what I did with that stupid slideshow photo. If he’d never turned me in, I’d still be on the team and in school. Which means I wouldn’t have to spend most of my summer here when I’d much rather be…well, anywhere else.
And to make matters worse, he’s wearing a forest green shirt with the camp’s logo on the corner, making it a safe bet he works here too.
His eyes—damn near the same color as said shirt—lock with mine for a brief moment before I shift my attention back to Colin.
“Ah, perfect timing as always, Kal,” he says, motioning for him to enter.
Bile works its way into my mouth as my eyes sink closed, and I send up a silent prayer to any God who might listen that all these pieces snapping together are only a nightmare. But even without opening my eyes, I know it’s my reality.
Kal…as in Kaleb.
The same guy who I’ll be spending the entire summer working with.
Fuck.