Chapter 16
Every time it rolls around, I remember that Hiking Day is both my favorite and my least favorite day during the week-long summer camp sessions. To an extent, I love hiking. I like hiking alone, certainly, or with Kinsley. I’d probably even like hiking with Liza.
But with a hike that takes up most of the morning and makes me need to be up and moving earlier than usual, it’s not always easy to remember how much I enjoy hiking these woods.
Especially with sixty-odd kids to protect from nature and the elements.
By the time I’ve picked through my breakfast and eaten a little over three-fourths of it, I’m slightly more awake than I’d expected and looking around to see how the kids are feeling about today. Sometimes campers beg to get out of it, so we’ve started offering camp activities as an alternative to hiking, though it’s mostly crafts and swimming in the pool. Still, it gives the less hiking-inclined campers something to look forward to, instead of dread.
I prefer it this way. As a kid who’d gotten bullied for her non-athletic-abilities, I know how it feels to be embarrassed and self conscious about an activity.
As my eyes wander around the dining hall, I check to see if Redtail is almost finished eating. I’ll need to wrangle them when they are, since I know they’re excited as hell to get on the trail. Last year we’d seen the bird we’re named for, and they’re sure an elk.
I’m still sure it was just a very buff and tall deer, though I won’t ruin their illusion about it. Especially since it means my repeat campers are looking forward to this instead of dreading it. Even Ari hadn’t asked to stay behind, though half of me had expected her to.
“We’re not together,” Kinsley whines, sitting down beside me with her plate of food. She throws me a biscuit and a small packet of blackberry jam, and I realize that I’m not as full as I’d thought. But then again, who can turn down a biscuit?
“I know,” I sigh, pulling it apart and distributing the blackberry between the halves. “I’m with Kayde and Daniel again today. Looks like whoever made the schedule decided not to swap cabin groups around like we usually do.” I doubt it was Fink. He barely ever plans things here, and certainly doesn’t show up to check on how everything is going after the first couple weeks of summer.
If I had to guess, I’d say Daniel made the schedules. And then copied them over and over so he could get it done as quickly as possible. It’s definitely a Daniel thing to do.
“Please don’t let his kids try to kill you again. Or at least, I don’t know, dodge whatever projectile comes toward your face?” She glances at me, her eyes searching my face. “God, that looks painful.”
I grimace at her words, fingers inching up towards my black eye that I hadn’t really bothered to try to cover. It’s not worth wearing makeup I’m just going to sweat off, and who the hell would I be fooling? Every single person at Camp Crestview knows what happened yesterday, and that I got one hell of a bruise from it.
“Yeah, it’s not like my favorite face decoration,” I admit with a low sigh, my fingers inching higher over the black eye until I’m rubbing the scar that bisects my eyebrow. That, of course, won’t go away in a few days like the bruises will.
And I wouldn’t want it to. The scar proves I didn’t die, that I survived my father, just like I’ll survive Kayde.
If Dad couldn’t break me, a camp counselor with an ax certainly won’t get the honor of it. Flashes of last night flicker through my brain as my teeth sink into another piece of biscuit, and I can’t help the way my eyes rove around the dining hall until almost involuntarily. Then I find myself looking at the back of Kayde’s head.
He’s not sitting with Darcy today. She’d been his normal meal companion since camp started, but today he’s just with Daniel at a small table near the corner. Darcy is sitting with Liza and Shawn, and I swear she’s shooting daggers at Kayde whenever she gets the chance.
I guess she really is still pissed about last night at the campfire. Whatever specifics he’d given her seems to have cooled her love for him.
But I doubt it’ll last. Darcy is nothing if not as tenacious as a cockroach. She’ll decide it’s my fault in another few hours and be back all over him, thinking she can sway his feelings in her favor.
If only she knew that it’s better that he doesn’t like her.
Shoving the last piece of biscuit into my mouth, I get to my feet with my finished plate and mug of coffee in my hands. “See ya,” I mumble around my mouthful, heading to the kitchen to dump and clean my plate. It only takes seconds, and I skirt past Darcy on the way out, who throws a look my way that tells me I was right.
I just should’ve accelerated my time table for her shift.
Her look gets returned with my sweetest smile, but I don’t bother trying to look friendly as I head to my kids’ table to gather up the girls buzzing with excitement. Already I hear the word elk whispered reverently, like a soft plea for the same miracle they swore they saw last year.
I won’t ruin it for them.
“You guys ready?” I ask, shoving my hands into the pockets of my joggers. It doesn’t matter how hot it is outside; I’d rather sweat than get ticks crawling up my legs. Instead of my normal sneakers, I’m wearing my old and beautifully worn-in hiking boots laced up to my ankles, and a snug tee exposing my arms is the only mercy I give myself to the late July heat. Though, I do wear bug repellent bands on both of my wrists in an attempt to keep myself free of insect bites and problematic guests accompanying me back to camp.
All the girls get to their feet instantly, their plates and cups already cleaned and in the sink. They stream outside as I follow, heading for the small empty area beside the front of Otter Hall to wait for the other cabins joining us. My girls mill around, clearly impatient, until the doors finally open again and both Kayde and Daniel stroll out with their boys to meet up with my girls.
The other three cabins will start hiking in another thirty minutes or so, and they’ll start at a different part of the trail. Though we won’t cross paths, we’ll get back around the same time for lunch, then give the campers free time for the rest of the afternoon.
Most of them will end up taking naps or hanging out at the beach, but not swimming. Even twelve-year-olds that enjoy being outdoors get tired from a three-hour hike in the hills.
“I’ll take the lead if you’re okay with that, Summer,” Daniel asserts with a smile. He’s always the first to volunteer for anything that makes him look important, and I don’t care enough to argue with him. If he wants to lead our train of marching campers up and down hills as they look for black bears that would run before they could be seen, so be it.
It just means I get to pay more attention to Melody to make sure she doesn’t go after her two new mortal enemies in Daniel’s cabin. That idea solidifies when I see her and another girl eyeing the two of them up, and I nearly groan at the idea of having to make sure they don’t shank a boy.
“We can do whatever you want,” I reply with a small smile. The look doesn’t travel to Kayde, and I find my skin prickling at the idea of even looking at him. “I can take up the rear with my cabin.” That would leave Kayde to kind of range along the middle, making sure no one tries to run into the forest and never return.
Apparently, Daniel only cares about being in the lead, though. He gestures for everyone to follow, barely acknowledging me as he heads toward our side of the trail. The twenty-four kids follow him, their excitement growing as we head for the heavier trees. This is the one time they really get to explore the woods close to the Smoky Mountains while we’re here; they have a right to be happy at the adventure.
To my absolute lack of surprise, Kayde falls into step beside me, as the distance between us and the campers yawns to about six feet. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his elbow bumping mine. “Did you sleep well when you got back? I know you were cold and looking pretty worn out. The eye is impressive.”
Did I sleep well? That’s certainly not what I was expecting. I turn to glare at him sullenly, mulling the words over in my head as I try to think of an answer for Kayde.
“Yeah,” I admit at last, offering him the truth. “I did sleep well after I got back. Wrapped up in way too many blankets and all that. You uh, you sleep well too? Once you…” I wave my hand dismissively, trying to gesture my meaning instead of saying it.
“Slept like a damn baby. Definitely could’ve been better, though. Want to know why?”
I’m really sure I don’t. But Kayde doesn’t seem to care about my lack of affirmative response. He slings an arm over my shoulders and drags me close, like there aren’t twenty-four kids and Daniel in front of us. Hell, I’m pretty sure that Darcy is somewhere watching; judging by the searing heat I’m pretty sure I feel drilling holes into the back of my head.
“What are you doing?—”
“Would’ve been a hell of a lot better with you in my bed and just fucked,” he purrs in my ear, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “Won’t make that mistake again, sweetheart. I promise you that.” His words have the effect I’m sure he’s looking for. A tremor works its way up my spine, and I clench my fingers tight against my palms.
“I sleep like shit in your cabin,” is the only response I can think to give him, especially without getting louder or like, kicking him in the balls.
God, I really want to kick Kayde Lane in the balls.
“Well…” Kayde fixes me with a look, still keeping his arm draped over my shoulders. It’s casual, friendly even. But when I try to sidestep him, the muscles in his biceps flex and his fingers hold just a little tighter in warning. So I stop, choosing not to make a scene as he sings out that stupid, bitchy word. “That’s not exactly true. I know you want to have this big and tough exterior. Totally get that and don’t blame you for it, Summer. But you slept like the dead wrapped up in me. With your sweet little murmurs and your lips pressed against my collarbone?—”
“Did not,” I mutter, being oh so mature about the situation. “I don’t remember any of that. You were dreaming.”
“I was not.” Kayde’s low, purring chuckle knocks me for a loop, and my stomach twists in what I convince myself is revulsion. “I stayed up a little longer than I should just to watch my sweet little girl sleep. You begged me for it, you know. Begged me to hold you, to touch you?—”
“There are kids in front of us.” My voice trembles as I force out the words, and I cast him a sideways glance. “Can you not?” Especially now that I see Melody drifting back toward us, obviously wanting to say something.
Kayde, thank God, drops his arms when he notices as well, and just falls back into step with me as Melody edges closer and closer.
“Did Summer tell you about last year?” Her excited gaze fixes on Kayde’s, and I wonder again how a muscled up deer could have possibly become such a thing that all the campers are dying for any glance of it again, sure that it’s an elk.
“No?” Kayde glances at me, bemused. “What was special about last year?”
“We do this hike every year, you know,” she explains, making sure he knows the basics. Kayde nods. “Well, last year, this kid fell behind. He didn’t get lost or anything, but Summer pulled us back to wait for him. It was on the ridge at the middle of the trail. So we waited there, and then this elk came out of the woods.” She whispers the word elk like a small prayer, like she’s hoping the God of the forest will come bless her again.
I stare at Kayde, mentally willing him not to tell her that an elk is incredibly unlikely around here. Especially just wandering fifty feet from a bunch of eleven-year-olds that could barely keep themselves from breaking into happy screeches.
Thankfully, Kayde just tilts his head, eyes widening in what definitely seems to be genuine interest. It’s his Lassie mask, though, and I’ve started to notice the cracks in it after spending the last few days with him.
The way the expressions take just a second too long, as if he has to manufacture them instead of having them appear naturally.
The way he never quite seems to be listening when the kids or other counselors are saying something he finds boring.
Sometimes, he slips up enough that his mask doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Those are the times I think someone else is going to notice that Kayde is a monster, not the perfect golden retriever who has now jumped into two bodies of water to save a counselor and a camper.
But no one ever does.
“That’s really cool,” he breathes, going for understated excitement. “Seriously. Maybe we’ll see it this year on the ridge too?”
No, we definitely won’t. There are no elk around Camp Crestview, and he sure as shit knows it, too. Melody agrees, carrying on a conversation with him that lasts a couple of minutes while we crunch through the leaves on the trail. It’s marked plainly with blue ribbon tied to trees about every thirty feet, and the path is clear enough that I could follow it with my eyes closed. It should be impossible to get lost, but in reality, that’s my greatest fear.
“So what would we do if someone got lost?” It’s as if Kayde reads my mind after Melody drifts back to her spot in the swarm of campers. “Would we send everyone else back and have counselors out looking for the kid?”
“Don’t worry,” I say, before I can stop myself. “I’d make sure you got left at camp on babysitting duty.”
That startles a laugh out of him, and I glance sidelong at Kayde as he grins, his mask falling and leaving him looking like the feral thing I have to deal with at night. Only now he’s as amused as he is unhinged.
“Well, that’s pretty smart of you,” Kayde concedes, moving toward the middle of the group of kids without another word. It hadn’t sounded like the end of a conversation, but I’m happy as hell to see him go. Hikes should be savored and enjoyed in as much solitude as I can pretend that I have with twenty-four children just looking for their chance at disorder.
But at least the birds sound nice today, and with Kayde halfway up the child-swarm, I can pretend that he isn’t here and enjoy my morning.
Ican’t help the smile on my face as I watch the kids stream to their cabins, completely worn out. This might be my favorite thing about hiking day, other than the hike itself. The kids are always exhausted after the hikes we do, and the water balloon fight combined with a few games of flag football we let them play after. It really is probably the most physical day of the session, and to make up for it, tomorrow is an easy crafts and chill day. The kids can swim, or relax, or hang out on either of the big fields that serve as sports areas. Most of them will most likely nap and chill, which is perfect.
“Another successful hiking day,” Kinsley tells me, slinging an arm over my shoulders. I can feel the tiredness in her, and I turn to smile at my best friend. For once, I don’t feel so exhausted. Thanks to last night’s rest and my lack of involvement in flag football, I feel like I could go hiking again, if the situation called for it.
Though in reality, I’m definitely going to end up chilling in my cabin for as long as Kayde will let me. Naturally, my brain can’t stop replaying last night’s mistakes over and over in my head, and I try not to grimace at Kinsley as I hear him whisper I’ll make you regret not slitting my throat so clearly that he could be standing right behind me, one hand going for my neck.
Thankfully, he isn’t. But I still give a small shudder that seems to go unnoticed by my exhausted friend. “You should get some sleep,” I tell her, trying not to sound like I’m in a hurry. Whatever downtime I can get will be welcome, and it’s still early enough that I figure I have an hour or so before Kayde comes knocking. Plus, I intend to be snug in my cabin by the time he wants something; so he can be the one that comes to me tonight, instead of me marching my ass anywhere for him.
After all, he hadn’t given me any instructions on where to meet him, or when.
“I know.” Kinsley yawns, covering her mouth belatedly with one hand. “God, I know. But Liza wants to hang out, so…” She gazes forlornly at Liza’s cabin on the edge of camp, causing me to snort.
“Then go sleep with your girlfriend.” Gently I walk her in that direction, unsurprised when she doesn’t exactly protest or try to go anywhere else.
Finally she’s walking on her own, and Kinsley turns to reward me with a smile and a soft wave, before falling back into her normal, rushed pace as she walks toward where her girlfriend is probably waiting for her.
I’m totally not jealous, is what I tell myself forcibly.
You really, definitely are,is how my brain chooses to respond.
But that part of me is not wrong. I am jealous of her. At least a little. I want what she has; the sweetness and the obvious, genuine affection. Still, I try to shake those thoughts free from my head as I pivot toward my cabin, happy that in the darkness, I can pretend as long as I want that I’m not looking as miserable as I suddenly feel knowing Kinsley really has achieved her current relationship goals and I haven’t had a boyfriend in three years.
And even that was…disappointing at best.
Before I’ve managed five steps toward my cabin, something grabs my wrist, jerking me to a stop. A yelp bubbles up my throat, slowly evolving to what promises to be a very impressive, horror-movie worthy scream.
At least, until Kayde’s palm seals itself over my mouth, and his low, warning growl meets my ears. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, his face mostly obscured by shadow. “You’re coming with me, sweetheart. And you will not make a scene about it. Understand?”