Chapter 24
“You can’t kill anyone,” I remind Melody, only half joking.
The twelve-year-old fixes me with a look from eyes that feel older than twelve, and she folds her arms over her chest to glare up at me. “We’re not going to kill anyone,” she promises me patiently, as if she’s the adult and I’m the feral child. “Glow stick necklace, please.” She holds out a hand expectantly, and I hand her both the glow stick necklace and the regular glow stick she can use to cheer on the other cabins. Not that she will, I think. Melody is only a team player for her team.
“No violent exhibitions,” I go on, hand on my hip. “No fighting. Fake, or otherwise.”
“Mhmm.” It’s not worth having this talk with the rest of my kids as the sun sets and everyone gathers around the biggest campfire. Tonight, instead of ranging around it in a loose circle, we’ve dragged the logs over from other areas to create ‘rows’ of seats, and whichever cabin is doing their talent will have the whole ‘stage’ area in front of the fire itself.
Well, not too close to the fire. None of them needs an opportunity to fall into the flames. The last thing we need tonight is a hospital trip, which is why I’m having the talk with Melody now.
“Can I have a different one?” Melody lifts the necklace off of her shoulders and as I lean down for another pack of them, she tosses it over my head unexpectedly. “Pink is way more your color.”
I snort but don’t argue, instead thumbing through until I can find a light blue one while kicking myself for not planning which one to give her earlier. Melody is not a lover of pink, and I should’ve remembered. “Sorry,” I murmur, giving her the blue one instead. She smiles, grateful, and slips it over her head before patting my hand.
“It’s okay,” she promises. “We all make mistakes. I won’t kill anyone, hurt anyone, or set anything on fire, in case that’s where this is going next.” She rolls her eyes, and it strikes me again how mature she is for her age. Though with her, I’m never sure if that’s a good thing.
Melody is insanely intelligent, yes, but there’s something about her I don’t quite understand. Something in her eyes unnerves me and always makes me itch.
But it’s probably just the arrogance of being twelve and having a cabin full of kids willing to follow her to the ends of the earth.
She grins once more before walking off in the direction of the Redtail girls, probably telling them I’ve shot down their dreams of sawing one of Daniel’s boys in half and only announcing later it’s not a magic trick. I’m so distracted by my concerns that it takes Kayde clearing his throat beside me for me to even notice, let alone jump.
“You in a better mood?” I can’t help but mumble, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Was I ever in a bad mood?” he’s quick to ask, but the smooth, amused edge is back in his voice, instead of whatever was there this morning.
I turn to look at him, brows raising just enough for me to show how incredulous I am at his words. “You’re joking.” It isn’t a question, and I nervously shove my hands into my back pockets.
“Am I?” He blinks and tilts his head down to me, a small smile on his face. “Why do you think I was in a bad mood, babe?”
Babeis a bit of a new one, or at least one I’m noticing now more than before. I don’t understand it, for one. Why refer to me with this kind of affectionate nickname outside of our nightly deal time? Is it some extra part of his game? Or another way to humiliate and embarrass me in front of everyone?
I bite my lower lip thoughtfully, aware of Kayde’s eyes on my face while I think. I want to ask, I think. But I’m also not sure I want to sour his mood by digging into his business. Asking where he’d gone this morning, or where he’d been, already pissed him off enough.
Even if he isn’t willing to admit it now.
“You just weren’t nice,” I mutter, and instantly regret the words. Kayde is never that nice. Why should I consider this morning any different from Kayde’s usual crap?
“Poor thing. Poor baby.” There’s heat in his words, and they aren’t nearly as cruel as they could be. Especially when Kayde wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me to him. “Why are you wearing three glow stick necklaces?” he asks, his other hand coming up to touch the pink one around my neck.
“Because three of the girls wanted different colors.” I sigh, knowing I’m much more of a pushover than most of the counselors here. But I want my girls to be happy, and if that means being a glow stick necklace display for the rest of the night, then that’s okay. There are worse things than looking like I’m heading to a rave.
Kayde turns to look at me fully, studying my face with slightly narrowed eyes. I know what he sees. I know he’s finally taking in the smears of glitter over my eyes and across my cheeks. The way I really look like I’m trying to stand out in some camp-themed nightclub. But it’s not my fault, and I wasn’t about to tell the girls I wouldn’t get glittered up by them to match whatever it is they’re doing.
After all, I’m nothing if not supportive of my feral goblins.
“What are you supposed to be?” he asks, one hand coming up to hover near the glitter. I pull away so he can’t smudge it, shooting him a warning frown. “A disco ball that lights up?”
“I’m supportive,” I inform him flatly. “Of the kids. They wanted to put glitter on me, so…” I show him my arms, which are also just as glittery. My hair, too, shimmers when I turn, and I really am a disco ball, now that he’s said it. “So I let them.”
“Cute.” I can’t tell if he’s taunting me, or looking for a rise. “So I wasn’t nice to you this morning? Would you like me to apologize?” His smile turns just a touch dark, his white teeth flashing.
“No. I don’t need an apology,” I assure him. “But I wouldn’t mind some honesty without the aggression.”
The smile fades, and he watches me, waiting for me to go on. So I do, not expecting this turn of events from him, and suck in a breath before admitting, “You looked…rough this morning. You weren’t really doing something terrible, right?”
“Haven’t you counted the kids? Made all the counselors check in?” His voice is flat. Emotionless. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking at the best of times. This is not one of them. And clearly, I’ve pissed him off again.
I just give him a look from under my lashes, not dignifying it with a response. He’s right. I have done all that. But I’d hoped for an answer from him, instead of whatever this is. “I was just asking,” I murmur finally, pulling myself out of his hold.
Or at least, that’s the plan.
Kayde curses softly and hooks a finger in the back of my denim shorts, using that to drag me back toward him. Somehow, no matter how I try to escape, he’s still so easily able to slot my body against his in the corner of Otter Hall, where no one can really see us unless they’re actually looking.
“Wait,” he sighs against my hair, holding onto me by my pocket. “I didn’t mean to piss you off, baby girl. Stop taking things so personally.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me where you were,” I can’t help but challenge, heat rising to my cheeks. It’s not from embarrassment this time, though. It’s irritation and frustration. I hate when he talks to me like this. No matter the context.
“Nah, I don’t think I will. But keep asking me,” my psychopath invites with heady enthusiasm. “Love how mad me saying no gets you. Will you slap me next? Or just stare at me like that and hope I feel bad?”
“I will sacrifice mosquitos to the forest god daily in hopes you feel like shit,” I promise him between clenched teeth. “And maybe, in ten years or so, he’ll take pity on me and you’ll feel a twinge of regret for something.”
“Probably not.” Kayde chuckles, releasing me. “But keep trying, babe.”
There it is again. Babe. An affectionate nickname, like we’re more than enemies who fuck because of a deal I made. “My girls are going to destroy your boys at the talent show,” is the only thing I can think to say, and I know how lame it is the moment the words leave my mouth.
Kayde grimaces. “Yeah, probably. Their little demonstration is, umm…not that inspiring. But we’ll see.” He gives a huff and glances towards the boys with something like fondness on his face, though I know it’s all for show.
After all, he was prepared to murder them a week ago. But I don’t remark on that. Instead I reach up, touching the necklaces and running my fingers along them before pulling one off of my neck—a green one—and slipping it over Kayde’s head instead. “Show some solidarity,” I tell him, reaching into my pocket for one of my glow sticks and pressing it into his hand. “Cheer for them no matter how much they suck. It…it’ll mean a lot, okay?” I avert my eyes from his face, insecure at how he’s looking at me as if he’s never seen me before. “Even if you don’t like them, you can pretend for the night.”
“I suppose,” Kayde murmurs, catching my fingers before I can pull away. “But only because you look so cute when you blush like that.”
I don’t dignify that with a response. I pull my hand away and turn around to find where my campers have gone before following after them, needing to make sure for a twelfth time that they aren’t about to burn down the campground or murder one of Daniel’s boys.
Please, God,I think, crossing my fingers. Don’t let them be planning a magic show.
Of course, my girls have planned a magic show.
Melody is even dressed for it, in a sparkly shirt and black leggings. They’ve made a hat for her out of construction paper, and I can’t help but feel impressed at their creativity in that and the painted stick she’s using as a wand.
And at first, things mostly go well. They don’t threaten anyone. Melody’s card tricks actually work, surprising their fellow campers, and her ‘assistants’ are as flawless as a bunch of twelve-year-olds armed with craft supplies can be.
But I sit on my log beside Kinsley and keep my fingers crossed anyway, knowing how quickly this can go from innocent, to something worse when Melody is involved.
“And for my final set of tricks,” she announces with a flourish, causing me to cross my fingers even harder.
Please, God, don’t let her announce that she’s sawing someone in half, I beg, my eyes fixed on her in front of the snapping fire. Apart from us, Coyote cabin is the only one to not have gone yet. And unless they’re truly spectacular, I think my girls have a pretty good chance of winning. At least, if this last trick isn’t a giant failure. The other kids would never let them live that down, and a bad finale will tank whatever good will they gained during the rest of their little magic show.
Please don’t saw someone in half, I beg again, still watching Melody with rapt attention. Anything but that, kid.
“I need a volunteer.” The words make me wince in trepidation, and in a move of self sacrifice, I throw my hand up from my spot in the front row, eyes fixed on Melody as she looks around the log seats with dramatic flair. She narrows her eyes, making a show of looking as about ten kids try not to jump out of their seats in their efforts to get noticed by her.
Kayde taps my shoulder from his spot too close behind me, and without waiting for me to acknowledge him, leans forward to whisper in my ear, “What are you doing? Why are you volunteering?”
“Because I’m scared she’s going to saw someone in half. Only, it won’t be a magic trick,” I hiss, refusing to underestimate Melody or her ability to do something insane. Do I think she’s managed to find and obtain a saw somewhere on the grounds of Camp Crestview? Absolutely not. No way in hell.
Do I think if she wanted to, she and the other girls of my cabin could make a saw out of like a rubber band, a leaf, and a crushing desire for bloodlust? Abso-fucking-lutely.
“Oh.” Kayde actually sounds mollified; like my explanation makes total sense. “Yeah, okay. That tracks.” He settles back, but I don’t turn and look at him. I’m still transfixed on Melody, trying to glare her into picking me for her demonstration.
She sees me. I know she sees me, though her eyes skim right over me as she goes on tiptoe. “You!” She jabs her finger at me, then lifts it, to make sure I know it’s not me she’s asking to be her volunteer.
Shit. I know Daniel’s cabin is somewhere behind me, and I don’t want to have to make a scene. No, she’s probably not going to saw one of them in half literally. But she could embarrass or humiliate anyone if she puts her mind to it. Especially in front of the rest of Camp?—
Kayde brushes by, stepping over my log and glancing down at my surprised face to wink at me. My mouth falls open, but at least I don’t have to worry about Melody hurting or humiliating him. He turns his grin on Melody as he stands next to her, hands shoved in his pockets as she announces she’ll be using him for a few different tricks to prove to her audience they’re all real. Naturally, her ‘assistants’ are ready with whatever she needs, and I settle back to watch, at ease now that I know we’re not in danger of a fight.
Melody and my other campers take Kayde through three card tricks, a disappearing coin trick, and a trick where an egg is squeezed but not broken. All in all, it’s pretty tame. Though I can’t help but be begrudgingly grateful that Kayde plays along with her instead of acting like all of it is below him.
“Thank you so much again for being a volunteer!” Melody’s voice carries, and I’m sure if she wanted to, she could be heard from across the lake. She takes her magician hat, which is still somehow held together by tape and sheer will, and fishes around in it dramatically, like she’s Mary Poppins.
“Before you go, we’ve got something for you to take back to our counselor, since you were such a good sport.” Melody pulls her arm back with a dramatic flourish, and shows in her hand a slightly crumpled but still manageable bouquet of wildflowers that look like they were picked today.
Then her words register in my head, and my face falls. Kinsley elbows me in the side, but all I can do is watch Kayde, confused and utterly at a loss.
Kayde is obviously just as surprised, but he recovers quickly, accepting the flowers with a fancy little bow, then strides toward me purposefully.
Don’t make a big deal out of it,I beg silently, never looking away from him. But his smirk grows, eyes darkening just a touch, and I know for a fact he’s going to make a big deal out of this.
“For you, my lady,” he announces in a voice that’s way too similar to Melody’s confident drawl to be anything but intentional. He drops to one knee and holds the flowers out to me, bowing his head so his curls fall over his shoulders, free from his usual ponytail or bun tonight.
“T-thanks.” I know my face is red. I know I’m squirming as I reach out and take the flowers from him before sitting back, and I’m fully aware Kinsley and Liza are both staring at me. As is Melody, with a wolfish, self-satisfied grin that makes me want to bury my face in my hands and go straight to my cabin.
Kayde murmurs something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Of course, baby girl,” But I refuse to even look at him as he steps past me to go back to his log. But I clutch the flowers in my hand, a little bit touched that my cabin of girls had obviously picked these for me.
I just wish they’d chosen not to embarrass me with them in front of the rest of camp. And God do I wish Kayde hadn’t been so keen to play along.
“That was adorable,” Kins hisses in my ear, causing me to groan as I trail my fingers over the flowers. “Seriously, that was so cute?—”
“That was humiliating.” I sigh, my face in my hand. But I can’t help the small smile curling at my lips, even as I want to stomp on the part of myself that agrees. It was cute. From both my campers and Kayde, even though I know he was just playing along.
A few minutes later, after Coyote Cabin has crashed and burned—almost literally, when one of them tripped dangerously close to the fire—Liza pushes to her feet and heads to the fire, grinning at all of us in the warm way she’s so good at.
“That was amazing, you guys,” she tells the campers, looking around at them. “Seriously, this was probably my favorite talent show all year.” Pretty sure she says that every time, but the kids believe it, anyway. “But as you guys know, we can only have one winner. So I’m going to ask the counselors to line up for their cabins and we’ll pick a winner from there.”
This isn’t new, either. I push to my feet and stride up to stand beside Liza, and quickly realize I’m one of the few counselors with more than the one obligatory glow necklace. Somehow over the past few hours, I’ve acquired two more necklaces, putting my total up to four with the one I’d given Kayde, and three glow sticks tied to the loop of my denim shorts. Combined with the glitter on my face, arms, and hair, I’m sure I really do look like a damn disco ball up here.
And it can’t be that attractive of a look. But when Kayde settles into the space beside me, I can feel his eyes on mine, though I don’t turn to meet his gaze. After all, one of us has to be a little less obvious about…whatever this is.
Nothing, I remind myself, stomping down the other part of myself that wishes it was something. There is nothing real going on between Kayde and me. Nor should I want there to be. Any part of me that wants something to happen with Kayde is clearly ill, beyond medication, and should be abandoned at the first possible opportunity.
But that doesn’t make it any easier to let go of some of the thoughts I let play through my head after Kayde does something sweet, romantic, or so fucking hot I feel like I need to excuse myself for a freezing cold shower.
Kayde nudges my arm and I realize it’s my turn to raise my hand for Redtail Cabin to get their cheers. I jerk my hand up, glow sticks in my palm, and the roar of applause from the other campers is enough to tell me we’ve most likely won. Poor Kayde gets only a smattering of polite applause, but after what Coyote had put forward as their ‘talent,’ I’m not exactly surprised.
Sure enough, we win. Liza calls up my campers as the other counselors head back to their seats, and Melody knocks into me hard, a grin on her face as she reaches out to accept the trophy that’s hers as the leader of our little group. Liza gives medals to the others, and I wrap an arm around Melody’s shoulders, proud of her as she congratulates the others.
She really is the best and worst camper I could ever ask for.
The celebration continues for a few more minutes, before Kins and Daniel arrive with marshmallows and s’mores kits. It’s enough to change the focus, and even enough to pull Melody away from me where she preens and thanks people who compliment her on her act.
But she should be proud. In my humble opinion, my kids had put much more into this than most of the other cabins. They deserve to win.
“You’re smiling like an idiot.” Kayde stands beside me as I watch our cabins line up for their s’mores kits, and I don’t move as he shifts to stand close enough to me that our arms are pressed together, his skin warm against mine.
“I’m proud of them,” I reply, sliding my eyes up to the part of his face I can see. It isn’t enough to see his full expression. Especially in the growing darkness now that the sun is below the horizon. But even if I could, I doubt I could figure out what he’s thinking.
His face is unreadable, for one.
“They’re not your kids,” he points out, then adds. “Do you even want kids? You don’t strike me as the type.”
I snort at that, smile turning rueful. “Fuck no. Me, have kids? No, never. I certainly am not getting pregnant. And I don’t want to raise kids. This is enough for me. Besides, I’m pretty sure Melody has scared me out of ever wanting kids.”
“Because she’s a sociopath?” Kayde’s voice is soft; inaudible to the others at the campfire. But I don’t reply. I can’t reply, when he’s put to words my fears about the girl who seems too mature, too worldly, and a little…off sometimes.
“Why do you say that?” I ask at last, studying the flowers in my hand. Kayde reaches out to slide one free, his fingers trailing over the small, delicate blossoms.
He takes his time, and I watch him as he strokes the flower thoughtfully. “Because, sweetheart.” Carefully he hands the flower back to me, then ducks in close to whisper against my ear, “It takes a sociopath to spot a sociopath.”
I’m too stunned to answer. I’m too stunned to react when he kisses my cheek and walks away toward his boys, whistling under his breath like he hadn’t just dropped that on me like it means nothing at all.