7. Nat #2
The entire camp met on the beach near the dock, prepared to swim in a relay race that was bound to be interesting.
We divided into pod teams, intending to have five members in total.
Fortunately, I had one pod member opting out, leaving a space on the team for me.
Just like any of the competitions, there were always some people who wouldn’t want to participate, and we weren’t about to force anyone to do so.
If we had too many people, a counselor would stand to the side and root for their team to pull out a win.
If more competitors were needed, we’d just have someone go twice.
Jack and I stood on the edge of the dock, bumping elbows as we stared at the buoy, which was approximately sixty yards away.
He was probably thinking the same thing as me: one small push and he’d be in the water.
The sadistic side of me imagined him floundering before disappearing beneath the surface, small bubbles rising to the top of the water. Was this my new happy place?
Man, he turned me into a monster.
“Two enter the ring,” Emerson said beside us in a dramatic tone. “The grumpy handyman versus the sunshine social media queen. Only one will walk away with their dignity. The other will leave Camp Starlight in shame, never to return again.”
Emerson must have been proud of herself because we both turned to find her smirking in her blue polka dot bikini.
“Hilarious,” Jack deadpanned.
“You two look like you’re trying to blast that buoy out of the water using just your eyes. You might be taking this too seriously,” she went on, unfazed by our annoyance.
I wanted to say she’d be taking it seriously, too, if she were even on the scoreboard, but I didn’t.
Jack spoke out of the corner of his mouth as Emerson retreated to her team. “I’d rather just blast you out of the water.”
“You are so mature, Jack. Really. A genuine adult.” I sounded like a seven-year-old.
He waved me off and headed down the dock. “Okay, team Corvus, huddle up.”
Huddle up? What was he, a high school football coach? Was he compensating after his poor performance at flag football?
I couldn’t hold back my grin. I loved this week’s group of campers.
I had a newly married couple from Rhode Island, Hannah and Amy, and a best friend duo named Jen and Lexa, both of whose abilities to spin pottery made me question my decision to teach the class myself.
Then there was Emily, the Pilates instructor with an eight-pack.
I only knew this because she was rightfully proud to show anyone who questioned it. And Jen kept questioning it.
I walked to my group and gave them a speech worth remembering. “Let me just start this off by saying, there are no winners or losers here.”
Jen arched her brow. “For real? How seriously are we taking this?”
“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we give this our all.
We can and we will prove that we are competitors in this race.
So let’s focus up.” Shit, was I going too far this time?
I had to tone it down. “We jump off the dock at the whistle, then swim to the buoy and back. The second someone touches that dock, the next person needs to be in the water. Do we have anyone with respiratory issues? Delayed recognition of touch, if that’s a thing? No one? Good, then we can go hard.”
My teammates had mixed looks of excitement and confusion. It didn’t exactly bode well.
“Who’s going first?” Lexa asked, her excitement palpable.
“You can if you like. Then Jen, Emily, and Amy will go. And I’ll end the relay. Hannah will be cheering us on from the sidelines.”
“Go, sports.” Hannah threw her arms in the air cheerleader-style, ending in jazz hands. It wasn’t exactly sarcastic, but it wasn’t not sarcastic either.
“Hell yes,” Amy said.
Lexa tied her hair back and stood at the edge of the dock, waiting diligently for the whistle to blow.
“Okay, I know we’re on the outskirts of this dock, so it might seem daunting to get to the buoy.” We couldn’t have gotten a center space. No, not like Jack. Mr. I’m Above Cheating.
“I’m not worried, Coach.” She stretched her arms above her head.
I turned to find Jack glaring beside our group. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Everybody ready?” Autumn shouted over the seven teams. A few woos sounded as people took their places. “On your mark, get set—”
She whistled, and seven people jumped into the water. Lexa took off like an Olympian and made it first to the marker, smacking it quickly before turning back around. She touched the dock, and Jen dove in after. This was feeling good. Maybe we had a shot at this.
Cheers resounded as each team swam their hearts out. Even Hannah was screaming. We were two lengths ahead of everyone, and I was practically giddy. Until I saw Jack whooping beside me, reminding me that this was going to be close.
I knew Emily had dived in due to the splash to the face I received. It was a helpful reminder to stop getting distracted. After all, I had just one more person ahead of me, and then I could take Jack down.
Ready for my chance, I bounced on my toes as my final teammate touched the buoy, moving to the edge of the dock.
And when it came, I dove in and swam my heart out, not knowing how close behind Jack was.
I couldn’t worry about him right now. Instead, I focused on my stroke, the glide of the water over my fingers.
Each breath fueled me. It was just me and the water.
Soon to be me and the buoy. Then me and…
Jack’s hand? Because we touched the marker at the same time.
We both looked at our hands for a millisecond before realizing what we were doing and separated as though we’d had an electric shock.
I rushed back to the dock, heart pounding as I swam the fastest I’d ever swum.
And by the time I made it, my team was shouting affirmations at me, just as Jack’s were.
I wiped away the excess water from my brow, feeling the goose bumps prickling on my skin.
I didn’t know who had won, who’d been closer. But I was feeling good.
I swam to the ladder, right behind Jack, who kicked in the water extra hard before climbing the ladder, so that he splashed me in the face.
I knew he’d done it on purpose. I cupped some water and splashed right back as I waited, but it just dripped down his muscled calves.
It was mesmerizing. I wanted to see them up close.
Was I secretly a calf girl and didn’t know it?
By the time I made it back to my excited team, I learned the devastating news. Not only had we gotten second place, but we’d tied. With Jack’s team.
“You can’t be sure,” Jack whisper-argued with Autumn. “You’re one person. How can you see two people touching the dock at the same time? Why didn’t you have a second set of eyes? What kind of competition is this?”
Autumn tilted her head in exasperation. “It was very obvious, Jack. And if you’re going to call into question the validity of this competition, I did have a second set of eyes. Azalea was watching, too. But if I had the option, I would have chosen Nat because of your bad attitude.”
“Some best friend you are.”
“Are you really arguing about getting second place right now? You get that you lost, right?”
Jack threw up his arms and turned on his heel. He looked like a four-year-old throwing a tantrum, but unfortunately, no one appeared to notice. Why was no one paying attention?
I learned later that Sawyer had been the winner. Not that it mattered. I was still tied with Jackass.
“This will not stand,” Jack said from beside me. We were the only two people left on the dock. Everyone else was happily walking away, as if this were just a game. “Let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care who wins Camp Wars as long as I beat you.”
If there were a living personification of a cartoon character turning bright red before blowing her top, I was that. The man infuriated me. He was so cocky. So combative. So… So…
“I need a tie with you like I need a snake in my sheets,” I seethed.
“Then we fix this. Swim-off. Tonight. After campfire,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t be late.”
I stepped toe to toe with him. “Oh, I know. The last thing I need is you calling it on a technicality.”
Apparently, we were doing this. I didn’t ask if this was a part of the main competition, but I was guessing it wasn’t. Maybe it was just a side, side bet? But who was going to bring logic into this mess? One of us had to break the tie. That was all that mattered.