Chapter 2
He’s not my type.
For one thing, the golden retriever type isn’t for me. Friendliness oozes out of Kayde’s pores as I scuff my feet in the dirt of the well-worn trail that circles around Otter Hall to take us wherever we need to go. Today, that means everywhere. According to Kayde, he’d been brought directly to Otter Hall by Liza and left there until we’d come along to show him around.
It’s just a shame I hadn’t known about the plan until it was too late. I know why; Kinsley knows me well enough to guess I would’ve weaseled out of being his tour guide. But with no warning, I’m stuck scraping dirt along the ground and trying not to look too put out by this development.
I’m supposed to have half of the afternoon to myself while the campers in my cabin move in. I’m lucky this year, with kids like Melody Carr bunking under my supervision. She’s never caused trouble any of the three times she’s been here in years past, and I know for a fact she’ll keep the other girls from committing murder or bullying the boys too badly.
Today was supposed to be easy.
Though if I’m being honest with myself, part of my attitude is from the marijuana in my veins that is still making me sluggish and relaxed. I’m jumpy, worried that Kayde is going to realize that I’m high and report me or give me some kind of talking to.
But God, he really is just so friendly. Every time a kid comes by, he stops to say hello, and whenever we find another counselor, he wants to introduce himself and be social as hell. For me—who’s never had an extra social bone in her body and barely has enough to get through the day here—he seems to be a fountain of wealth in that area.
I watch him from narrowed eyes as he talks to Darcy Fleming, a female counselor who held Kinsley’s attention for a whole two days last year before Darcy revealed her love of raw steak, mountain climbing, and very well-endowed men. I’d never seen Kins so turned off so quickly. Now, however, I can see her interest in Kayde growing by the second. As I watch, she twists her fingers in front of her shorts and steps a little closer to him, until she’s in his personal space and breaking all the laws of social acceptability.
I wonder what he smells like.
The thought is inappropriate at best. I chase it away as quickly as I can, blinking away the notion to lean in and see if he’s wearing cologne. It’s none of my business, for one. I like boundaries, secondly. And the third thing?
He’s really, absolutely, not my type.
It’s a moment before I realize Darcy is walking away. When I catch Kayde’s eyes, I can barely hold his gaze, even though he’s looking at me like there’s nothing amiss. There’s no suspicion in his gaze. No question, even. He really does remind me of a puppy, and it couldn’t be more of a turnoff to me.
If I’m going to get my summer love on with anyone, it’s going to be someone who calls me out on my stupid looks. Or, better yet, someone who wouldn’t mind pinning me to one of the trees in the camp and not letting me go until my lips are swollen and my eyes are permanently unfocused.
Obviously, that’s not Kayde. Or anyone else here, for that matter.
His smile widens, just a touch, and begrudgingly I have to appreciate his high cheekbones, his dark golden hair, and the scruff that adorns his features. He’s gorgeous, if nothing else. Even I can’t deny that.
“I was falling asleep,” I admit with a yawn, not trying to sound particularly overly-friendly. “Sorry.”
“Must be all that marijuana in your system, hmm?” Kayde all but purrs, his honey-brown eyes dancing. When all I can do is look at him, the smile on his face pulls even wider. “Sorry, uh, was it a secret? The fact you’re high? No offense, Summer, but…” He steps closer with a glance around us, and I notice belatedly that we aren’t exactly alone. Kayde’s voice lowers when he speaks again, and it’s close to what I might call sultry when he says, “It’s so obvious. Even if I couldn”t smell it on you when I’m close to you like this. You’re not exactly subtle.”
“I am too.” The words are out before I can stop them, and I pull away from him with my fingers clenched against my palms. “Wait, I mean—I’m not high. I don’t?—”
“If you say so.” He slides away from me, like he’s being polite, and that blinding smile is back on his face, no trace of anything sinister under it. “I won’t tell, okay? Why would I?”
I don’t know. Because I know nothing about him, really. But for all I know, he’s a spy for our boss sent to make sure the counselors Mr. Fink hired are doing their jobs and not slacking off in the staff cabin getting high.
Which is exactly what we do when we don’t have any responsibilities or children to put on leashes.
“Maybe you’re a spy.” Yet again, I can’t keep the words in my mouth, and I wish I could just shove my foot through my lips instead. At least then I wouldn’t be able to say any more ridiculous shit. “That came out wrong. I just meant…” I scuff my feet in the dirt and shake my head. “Never mind. That’s the lake, in case it was unclear in any way.” I flick my fingers toward the beach, and then again at the dock that reaches out over the water.
“Is that an island?” Kayde leans down, squinting to see better through the trees. “In the lake?”
“Yeah. It’s off limits to campers, though. Not that they don’t try, and I’m expecting it from a couple of the cabins this year. Which cabin is your responsibility?” I figure I might as well warn him now, in case he’s got one of the more rebellious groups.
“Uh…” He’s still looking at the island through the trees, but straightens at last to say, “Coyote. That’s mine.”
“You’re—” I start to tell him that he’s in trouble. I know which kids are there only because they’re one of the worst groups possible, and we’d fought with Mr. Fink about splitting them up before they could wreak havoc or set the camp on fire.
It would be polite to tell him who to look out for.
“I’m sure you’re fine,” I say instead, shrugging my shoulders noncommittally. No one warned me my first year. Besides, they won’t kill him. Probably.
Most likely… I think.
“The last camp I worked at wasn’t as nice as this,” Kayde says conversationally, catching up with me on the trail when he’s done looking at the lake. “We had to bunk with the kids to supervise them. Well, we had a door separating our room from theirs, but it was a thin door. You could hear all their shit at three am.”
I grimace at that, shaking my head. While we all have a cabin of ten kids to supervise, our rooms aren’t in the cabin. Instead, all the sleeping cabins have a small room built onto the side, with its own separate entrance. It gives us some bit of privacy, at least. Plus, the walls are thick enough that I wouldn’t hear the kids, even if they were trying to summon the devil.
Should I tell him that’s a possibility with his cabin?
“I don’t think I’d like that,” I admit, rolling my shoulders under my purple tee. “Pool.” I point at the obvious pool with its lifeguard stand, and then to the boathouse before naming it as well.
“You guys have horses?” He looks around, his eyes flicking to the boathouse in interest. “We had horses at my last camp.”
“No.” My answer comes out with a sigh. “We used to, back when I first started. But there was an incident, and Mr. Fink got rid of them to put in another fire ring and craft hut instead.” He follows me silently after that, only nodding or commenting quietly as I point out the other dining hall, the sleeping cabins, and two of the larger bathroom buildings.
“Shower there,” I tell him, pointing at the one hidden in the trees on the left. “The hot water is better, and it’s a little quieter. Especially before lights out. Most of the kids don’t like going that far into the woods when they don’t have to.”
“But the counselors value any privacy they can get?” Kayde chuckles, catching up to walk in step with me. He’s wearing that teasing, sweet-edged smile again, and when my eyes meet his, I see something slightly at odds there.
Like maybe he’s not as thrilled about all this as he’s letting on. But, well, I can’t really blame him. This isn’t the world’s most glamorous job, and there’s usually a reason people are camp counselors instead of, like, Google Interns.
For me, it’s because of a lack of direction and lack of cash. Plus a desire to be out of my mom’s house for as much of the summer as I can be. It’s the one season she doesn’t travel for work, and as much as I love her, we’re better when we only see each other a few days of the week, or even less.
We’re too similar to get along perfectly, in my opinion. Though with this session and one more being the only ones left for the year, I’ll have to remember how to live with her and exist in harmony in a month or so.
“Yeah.” I laugh, finally feeling a little more like myself now that the marijuana isn’t quite so heavy in my bloodstream. The halo around his face has faded, and his otherworldly beauty is becoming, well, worldly.
Kayde Lane might be a mortal, just like the rest of us.
I open my mouth to tell him the schedule, since we’re nearing the end of this little tour, when a bloodcurdling scream makes both of us jerk around toward the still-closed swimming pool. At first, all I see is an unfamiliar girl screaming, her hands outstretched toward the pool as she yells something over and over again.
And then I see the splashing.
Kayde is running before I am, though I’m only a step behind as my heart pounds just behind my ribs. His long legs eat up the distance, and we’re the first two to the pool, eyes fixed on the clear, chlorinated water.
Seconds later my heart plummets, and I swear my eyes connect with the boy’s wide, frightened gaze. I watch as he sinks like a stone to the bottom of the pool, his arms and legs flailing independently and doing him no favors. My brain isn’t exactly slow to respond, but I don’t even get the chance to do anything before Kayde jumps into the pool, diving in perfect form so the water encompasses him like an embrace.
He’s at the bottom instantly, wrapping his arms around the boy. In seconds, they’re back to the surface, the little boy gasping for air the moment they break through the surface of the water.
“Stairs?” Kayde pants, though his calmness is impressive while he holds onto a squirming twelve-year-old.
“Here.” My heart still pounds, but I’m stunned at just how fast the whole thing has happened. I trot to the edge of the pool, not hesitating before I descend the stairs as quickly as I can, the water coming up to my waist by the time I’m done. With outstretched arms, I wait for Kayde and his armful, my eyes wider than they should be as I tremble and scan the boy for any sign of distress.
Kayde doesn’t hand him over. Instead, he walks out of the pool with me following, both of us soaked, but my t-shirt is still mostly dry, unlike his. He wastes no time in laying the boy flat on the cement surrounding the pool, though turns him on his side so he can cough up the water still choking him.
“Are you okay?” I kneel beside the boy, my thigh brushing Kayde’s as I place a hand on the camper’s shoulder. He’s shaking, though he looks more humiliated than anything.
“Fell in,” he whispers in between heaves. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Kayde murmurs, in that too-friendly voice of his that brings to mind Lassie or a box full of fluffy puppies. “Accidents happen. We just want to make sure you’re okay. What’s your name?”
“Aaron,” the boy whispers, his wide eyes fixed on Kayde. “Aaron Vincent.”
“Well, Aaron Vincent, you’re not in trouble.” Slowly Kayde helps him sit up, looking him over for injuries or any sign that there’s more wrong than shock and his obvious, lingering fear that has the boy’s hands shaking. “But maybe we work on some swimming lessons for you over the next week, hmm?” Kayde looks over at me, his arm brushing my elbow, and turns that winning grin on me. “That girl from earlier was the nurse, right? He’s fine, but maybe we could get her to take a look at him?” It’s less of a suggestion, and more of an order.
But he’s right. And I should’ve thought of it sooner.
Feeling my face flush, I get to my feet with a quick, jerky nod. “Yeah,” I agree, noticing that there’s a small crowd gathered. “I’ll go get Liza.” With quick, measured steps, I move away from him and the pool, mentally mapping out my route as the whispers about Kayde jumping into the water with no hesitation and perfect form travels from camper to camper.
It occurs to me, when I’m jogging down the trail toward the nurse’s cabin, that I’d been completely wrong a few minutes ago.
Kayde isn’t human like the rest of us, as much as it burns my throat to admit it, even to myself. Especially now, with rumors and whispers floating through the air at my back.
To these kids, and probably to my fellow counselors, Kayde is a fucking god.