Never Will I Ever

Eleven

Avery

Pissed off doesn’t begin to cover how I’m feeling about Kaleb’s little attempt to get me booted from camp, but I do my best to shove down the frustration and hurt it causes by focusing on the task at hand: getting twenty-something kids up a mountain safely.

Of course, it’s a little difficult to rein in the irritation when we’ll be forced in each other’s proximity for the next twenty-four hours, no referee or mediator in sight.

Then again, we’ll be on a mountain with no one around to stop me from pushing him off the nearest cliff.

Despite the appealing thought of murder in the morning, I manage to keep my frustrations in check while we hike up the mountain. Unfortunately, however, I think most of the kids can tell the two of us are in some sort of stalemate; Elijah more than any of the others.

“Do you want to talk about why you’re so pissed, or would you rather keep taking it out on every rock we pass?” Elijah finally asks.

His big, brown eyes glance up at me from behind his glasses, and while my instinct wants me to lie or play it off, I can’t. Not with this kid.

Jaw tight, I nod up the trail toward Kaleb.

“He doesn’t want me here.”

“Kaleb?” he asks, his brows crashing together in confusion. “Okay, but you already knew that. Why is it suddenly making you all angry?”

Leave it to an eleven - year-old to deduce it like that.

Scraping my teeth over my lip, I debate on what to say. Being honest with the kid is one thing, but airing all the dirty laundry between us is another. After all, I’m the one supposed to connect with him. On his level. The shared history between Kaleb and me is on a level that Elijah shouldn’t be worrying about for a few more years, minimum.

Careful not to divulge too much, I go with, “I didn’t think he’d take his dislike to these lengths.” To where it’s impossible to breathe the same air as him and not wanna throat-punch him or mentally plot his murder.

“That’s all?”

I nod. “Yep, that’s all.”

If Elijah wants more details than that, he doesn’t let on.

He does frown, though, two vertical lines forming above the bridge of his glasses. Then he does a little shrug that lifts his backpack before offering, “You could try pulling your weight around camp. Maybe that will help make it up to him.”

I nearly trip on a root because I’m too busy gawking at him.

“I pull my weight,” I say, albeit a little defensively.

In reality, I do my best around camp, and it’s gotten a little easier since the first day, but I’m more than aware that this whole “outdoors” thing is my downfall. Just like I know Kaleb has had to pick up a fair amount of slack because of it.

“My dad always says actions speak louder than words,” Elijah pipes up as we continue trekking up the mountain. “Maybe you can offer to set up the tent. Or start the fire or cook us dinner.”

If only it were that simple…

I know he’s only trying his best to be helpful. He doesn’t know the depth and details of the chasm dividing Kaleb and me, so I can’t fault the kid for thinking putting together a stupid tent or doing any of that other stuff is gonna do anything to bridge the gap.

There’s not a chance in hell I’ll be breaking that news to him, though.

My lips pull up in a tight smile. “I guess I can give that a try. Under one condition.”

His head whips toward me. “Condition?”

“Yep,” I confirm, unable to stop the teasing smirk from forming. “You need to start making nice with the twins.”

His nose wrinkles up like he’s just smelled something horrible.

“What’s that look for?”

“Because I don’t want to be nice to the kids who don’t like me,” he mutters, shooting me an indignant look.

Yeah, me neither, kid. But that’s life.

“You told me the three of you were kinda friends at one point. There’s no reason you can’t be again. So why don’t you extend the olive branch and see what happens?”

His face is still drawn up in a tight grimace, which tells me all I need to know about his thoughts on the idea. Yet, to my surprise, he lets out a relenting sigh and mutters, “I guess I can try.”

A little bolt of pride zings through me, and I feel a smile pull at my lips.

Never would I ever have thought I’d get anything from this experience, especially when my father laid out his hair-brained plan. But I feel like I’m making a tiny difference with Elijah, and that’s pretty much the only thing keeping me sane.

It’s not lost on me that the same advice could very well be applied to my situation with Kaleb, but that’s something I’m choosing to think about later. My issues aren’t something that can be solved as easily, but Elijah’s? His will be a lot simpler.

Everything is when you’re that young.

After another half an hour of hiking at the back of the pack with Elijah—all the while listening to him animatedly talk about the video game he’s dying to play once he goes home—we reach the area where we’re meant to set up camp for the night.

The second Kaleb catches sight of us bringing up the end of the pack, relief crosses his face, only to be quickly replaced by an impassive mask. The two of us did fall a little behind, taking our time on the way up, and it’s likely he thought we got lost along the way. Maybe even thought he’d have to come find us.

Though, at this rate, I’d be willing to bet my inheritance that he’d sooner leave me on this mountain to die of starvation than be the one to round up a search party.

“Set up camp, lunch, then group activities, right?” I ask, confirming the schedule I already memorized this morning. Honestly, I just want to see if he’ll acknowledge me, or better yet, maybe explain what his issue is.

But all I get is an emotionless yep in response before he walks right past me. Almost like I’m not even there. Little does he realize, it’ll be nearly impossible to pretend I don’t exist when we’re sleeping a foot apart in the same tent tonight.

Because, of course we are.

Because God fucking hates me.

A quick glance around reveals most of the groups, if not all, seem to have their tents handled, already working with each other to put the poles together and run them through the fabric. Even Elijah’s keeping his word, pulling out tent pieces and handing them off to Dayton. Or maybe that one is Colton?

Regardless, I have to admit, the kid is taking my challenge for him in stride, and it’s got me thinking…maybe I ought to do the same.

Attention flicking from each set of kids at various steps in the process, I determine it looks easy enough. If anything, I’ll give it the good ol’ college try and hope it somehow earns me brownie points with my infuriating co-counselor.

I can’t believe I’m about to take the advice of a freaking tweenager.

Shoving down any lingering self-doubt, I head to where Kaleb’s hiking pack is resting near the east side of our campsite. He usually packs the tents down at the bottom of the packs, so it takes me a minute of rummaging around some of the food and other supplies we’d brought up for the night before I find it.

That’s when Kaleb turns, catching me red-handed with my hands in his backpack.

Eyes widening slightly, he closes the few yards between us and snatches his bag out of my hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was gonna set up the tent,” I tell him matter-of-factly. Rising to my full height, I look him dead in the eye and force my tone to remain calm and even when I ask, “Is that all right?”

“Considering you’ve probably never put a tent together in your life and I can do it in my sleep, I think I’ll pass.”

He moves to walk away, backpack and tent in tow, but my hand wraps around his wrist before he’s out of arm’s reach. I ignore the way his skin seems to crackle with electricity beneath my touch, instead focusing on the blazing green eyes currently pinning me with a death glare.

“Let go of me,” he says in a deadly whisper.

I don’t let go. Because fuck him if he thinks I’m gonna take this shit lying down.

“Do you really have to be this much of a dick?” I snap.

A sharp scoff fills the already charged air between us. “I’m the one being a dick? You clearly didn’t look in the mirror this morning if you honestly think that’s the case.”

“I haven’t done anything to you, LaMothe, and you damn well know that. But you, on the other hand? You’ve had it out for me since the moment you saw me sitting in Colin’s office the very first day.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not—”

“Really? So you weren’t trying to get me fired just this morning?”

Kaleb goes as still as a statue with a complexion to match; stone cold and marble white. A poker face if I’ve ever seen one. But it’s his eyes that give him away—the slightest flicker of worry in them—confirming I’ve hit the nail on the head.

“That’s what I thought.” Grinding my teeth together, I release his wrist before I do something stupid. God knows touching him has led to some pretty stupid choices recently. I do step in closer, though, lowering my voice enough so any of the kids nearby won’t hear. “I can’t show you that I belong here if you won’t let me. And after this morning, I’d say you owe me this chance.”

He holds my gaze for what feels like a lifetime, nostrils flared in opposition . But rather than fighting me on it, he relents and holds the backpack out to me.

It’s not quite a white flag, but I have a feeling it’s the closest I’ll be getting.

I grab the strap and haul it over my shoulder, praying to heaven and hell that I don’t manage to screw this up. There’s no doubt he’d use it as even more ammunition against me.

He’s still staring at me like he wants to say something else but is holding his tongue, and it only creates another wave of frustration.

“What? What’s the problem now?”

“Just…make sure it’s staked into the ground,” he mutters before glancing away. “The last thing we need is to be blown off a mountain in the middle of the night.”

Oh, if he only fucking knew…

Despite me setting up the tent impeccably—and with no help—Kaleb doesn’t say more than a word or two to me afterward. Even once everyone has a quick sandwich for lunch and we split them into groups for the afternoon activities, he barely acknowledges me. Or the stellar job I did on our abode for the evening.

Kaleb’s group of boys are the ones who want to go on an additional hike higher up the mountain, leaving anyone who’d rather stay behind with me to fish at the stream nearby.

Let the record state, despite my love for being out on the water, I’m a sailor, not a fisherman. I don’t bait hooks with worms, I don’t gut a fresh catch, and the only fish I’m remotely interested in eating comes wrapped in rice and seaweed.

But…this was the better option than possibly getting lost on a mountain top.

The group that stays with me doesn’t require much instruction or help, so it’s a relatively easy job. Pretty sure the only real danger is one of them scraping a knee by falling in the stream. Or maybe catching something other than fish on their hooks.

Thankfully, it’s rather uneventful on our side of things until Kaleb’s group returns from their hiking excursion, ready to cook up dinner.

“Everything went fine down here?”

“Yes,” I say curtly. “I’m not as helpless or incompetent as you make me out to be.”

There’s movement out of my peripheral, and I turn just enough to catch him nodding. If he has anything else to say or ask, he chooses to keep it to himself and calls for the kids to come grab the food instead.

Then he’s off again, adding physical distance to the already gaping chasm metaphorically between us. Though I have to admit, the less I’m within five feet of the guy, the better. Anything less than that, and I catch the scent of his musky body wash or accidentally brush a shoulder with him, bringing me right back to us against that tree.

The taste of his lips, the feel of his body.

And I hate myself for longing for it all over again.

I knew this would happen. That all the self-loathing and disgust I managed to ignore while my lips were locked with his would roar to the surface with a vengeance. That the demons would slither through my thoughts like a viper, poisoning anything in its path.

The only time it wavers is when I can focus my mind elsewhere; usually on the kids.

I never thought I’d say it, but they make a great buffer, keeping both of us occupied enough in separate capacities. Allows us to be busy and distracted from the tension between us—and keeping the vicious thoughts in my head at bay—not to mention giving us an excuse to not interact with each other the way we’d have to if we were alone.

As the evening comes to a close, long after dinner and spooky stories are shared around the campfire, the kids start readying themselves to pack it in for the night. Kaleb and I split the evening duties—his idea to spend less time around me, no doubt—making one of us order them to their tents, the other handling the cleanup and extinguishing the fire. And to no surprise, he puts me on lights-out duty.

I can just hear his reasoning too.

I was worried Avery was incapable of putting the fire out and would burn the forest down. Or worse, tying the food up too close to camp and attracting a bear.

Like it’s my fault I didn’t grow up with a father who took me to do this kinda outdoorsy bullshit.

At least the kids make it easy for me to get them in for the night, allowing me to slip inside the tent and get ready for bed before Kaleb is done cleaning up. Dread fills my stomach while I wait for him to turn in, though, wondering if the suffocating silence between us will kill me in my sleep tonight or if it’ll be him smothering me with a pillow instead.

Rustling outside the tent alerts me of his presence less than ten minutes later, followed by a long sigh as he crawls through the opening. My pulse thrums with anxiety when he zips us in a far- too-small bubble for the evening, and I swear, it only takes two seconds for the walls to start closing in around us.

You can do this. It’s one night. Just go to sleep.

I know the feat will likely be impossible, though.

With every movement he makes, his musky scent overwhelms me. Grows stronger as he slides into his sleeping bag beside mine, the space between us now miniscule. My body vibrates and crackles with tension from his proximity, snapping across the space like an electric current. And apart from the occasional sound of swishing fabric, he drowns me with silence.

Until…he finally breaks it.

“How much did you hear? This morning, with Colin?”

A baseball-sized knot lodges itself in my trachea at the question, the unfortunate incident from this morning slicing through my brain until it’s front and center. The comments Kaleb made have been trying to make it there all day, but they’re impossible to shove away now.

“Do you really think someone who’d do that should be here working with all these kids?”

My eyes stay locked on the top of the tent while more bits of their conversation come back to mind. I can’t be sure what was missed before I halted outside the door at the sound of them talking. All I know is that what I did hear I didn’t fucking like, and if there was a prelude, I’d rather not know what was included.

“More than enough,” I finally respond in a gruff whisper.

If I’m being honest with myself, it’s not him trying to get me fired that’s shredded me to the bone. It was the disgust and resentment in his voice. It was hearing just how low he thinks of me—of this person I’ve become.

It was realizing that, no matter how hard I try to make things right, the damage will never be erased.

A soft sigh breaks through the silence, followed by the sound of him turning.

“Look, I know it might seem like I have this…vendetta against you.”

“Seem?” I echo with a scoff. “I’m not fucking obtuse, LaMothe. I know what hatred looks like.”

Lord knows I’ve felt it about myself for long enough to recognize it.

Another wave of self-contempt slams into me, rising like the sea as it threatens to pull me under.

“Just answer me this.” I rasp with more gravel than I’d like. “Is it because you think I don’t belong here, that I can’t do the job that I’m supposed to be doing? Or is it because of what I did last night?”

“What are—”

“Don’t,” I cut in, my voice straining to hold composure. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Because up until I kissed him last night, I thought things may have been turning around. Sure, we probably wouldn’t be best friends or texting each other to hang out after the sentencing to this hell-hole is over, but maybe we’d at least be cordial.

Civil.

I wait in silence for him to answer, not entirely sure which I’d prefer to leave his lips. Maybe because, with how hard I’ve been trying to make the best of the situation, I know the answer will cut like a knife through warm butter either way.

The fact that I care at all is problematic enough.

“I honestly don’t know.”

His soft voice slices through the silence of the forest, along with every plate of armor I’ve donned in protection.

My eyes sink closed, and I shake my head.

I have no idea how shit got so fucked-up between us, and at this point, I don’t think there’s much I can do to fix it. It might not even be worth trying.

Kaleb shifts beside me, and I can feel the heat of his stare on my cheek, even through the darkness. It burns, searing into me like a white-hot brand, and it takes all my willpower not to turn my head his way. Try to find his gaze in the darkness, only to wonder at the thoughts hidden behind his green eyes when they collide with mine.

“Look, Avery—”

“Forget it, it’s done. Let’s just…go to sleep,” I mutter, rolling so my back is to him.

I can still feel his eyes on me, staring at the back of my head. My own sink closed, and I send an internal plea to anyone who might listen that he’ll let it rest. No part of me wants to have it out with him on a mountain top with sleeping kids only a few yards away.

I’d rather him leave me to lick my wounds in peace.

After a few moments where the only noise is the wind whipping through the trees, the sensation of his gaze on me disappears. A low sigh sounds from behind me, followed by the rustling of his sleeping bag against the thin pad between him and the ground while he tries to get comfortable.

It’s only after he stops moving that I swear I hear the faintest whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

I doubt it, though.

It was probably just a trick of the wind.