10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
GRAY
I agreed to join Weston on a run this afternoon because it would help me shake off the tension from earlier today, and I could talk to him about Elle. He helped keep me accountable with Christian values and wise choices, so I owed it to him. Plus, I didn’t want him to be awkward with Elle if she landed up joining us at the camp.
Thankfully, Weston lived several minutes’ walk from the hostel. As I strolled toward his house, I spotted his towering form as he stretched in the driveway. His newly acquired abode stood proudly behind him, a classic Lowcountry-style home brimming with potential. With its white paint beginning to flake and peel, the house was begging for attention from its new owner. Weston planned to renovate the place and inject some personality into it.
Weston caught sight of me and straightened up, a playful smirk on his face. “What have I done to earn a training partner twice in one week?”
“Well, you know, just trying to stay in shape.”
“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes searched mine for the truth.
I felt a frown crease my forehead. “Stop calling her ‘that girl’. Her name is Elle,” I corrected him, feeling a protective edge in my voice. “And yes, it’s about her. But I also need to run.”
Weston’s expression softened, a sign of his readiness to listen. “Okay, spill it. I need to finish this run within an hour, so get talking.”
I exhaled. “She’s helping with the summer camp.” I put my hand up to pause his protest. “Calm down… it wasn’t my idea. Brenda set the whole thing up. And no one said anything about me dating her. Besides, she’s nothing like Kayley. For one, she’s a serious Christian. I believe she’s here for a reason. God keeps putting her in my path, so I’ve given up fighting it. Again, I don’t plan to date her. She already told me she’s leaving soon, and I’m okay with that. I thought I could just be her friend. ”
Weston leaned back against his truck, his arms crossing over his chest as he contemplated my words. “Okay. Chill, dude. Sounds like you’ve made up your mind. I won’t say I give you my blessing, but please promise me you’ll be careful.”
I nodded firmly, feeling a sense of resolution. “Done.”
“Fine. On another note, as your inside informant at Trust Insured, did you ever get a response from the person who hit your car? I know I’m not supposed to get involved while I’m on leave, but I’m just curious.”
I shook my head. “Nope, I even sent two emails. I don’t get it. Why would the person bother to leave their details if they didn’t plan to respond?”
Weston shrugged. “You’d be surprised how often it happens. It’s okay though, we’ll give it a few days and the office will proceed with your claim in the meantime. If push comes to shove, we can use the email address to find more details about your guy.”
I couldn’t help but smile, grateful for his support. “Thanks, Weston. Have I told you that I love your insurance company? I hate this kind of admin.”
Weston pushed away from the truck, his face set in a determined expression. “Enough talking. Let’s get running. I need to get at least eight miles in today,” he said in his usual no-nonsense tone.
We ran along the beach road. The sun had just begun its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the ocean to my left and the suburban houses to my right. My chest heaved with exertion, each breath a desperate plea for respite. Weston, being a professional triathlete, barely seemed phased by the distance we’d covered. As the sweat trickled down my face, I anticipated the chorus of aches and pains my body would serenade me with the following morning. Yet, despite the exhaustion, I felt invigorated by the run.
With a final warning about Elle from Weston, I made my way back to the hostel. I grabbed a quick shower and let the warm water wash away the last remnants of my fatigue. As I stood beneath the showerhead, I let my mind wander to Elle. Would she return? If so, how would I navigate it?
Remembering I’d promised to help with dinner prep, I raced to the hostel kitchen after my shower. Brenda had me wrapped around her little finger, so I often helped her with any of the heavy lifting required to set the table. I’d carry the extra-large casserole dishes to and from the kitchen or help with the washing up. She’d need even more help now with her foot giving her trouble.
I stepped into the kitchen ready to help. “Sorry I’m a bit late Bren… you’re not Brenda.” It was a stupid thing to say, but Elle took me by surprise. It was odd to see her standing in this familiar kitchen washing dishes like she’d always belonged here. “I mean... hey, Elle,” I said with a chuckle. My heart raced as I took her in. Gone was the flour and sunscreen from earlier. She had her long, wavy blonde hair half pinned back with a small clip. Her purple sundress flared at the waist and hung just below her knees. It reminded me of wildflowers.
She smiled, and it immediately changed the atmosphere in the room. Whoa!
“Do you need Brenda? She went to fetch napkins,” she said, her voice soft yet clear.
I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips. “No, I’m just here to help. Anything I can carry?”
Elle glanced around the kitchen, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “I don’t think so, but you can help wash these dishes,” she suggested, gesturing to the towering piles of dirty pots and pans around her.
Choosing the sink next to her, I pushed up the sleeves of my Henley and dove into the task. We worked in a comfortable semi-silence; only the clink of metal and Elle’s soft humming filled the air.
After a few verses, I caught onto the melody and I belted out the lyrics of the song, deliberately off key.
Elle shot me a look that was half amused, half exasperated. “Do you have to massacre my favorite song?” she asked.
Ignoring her, I continued my musical assault. So, she quit that song and started a new one.
“Challenge accepted,” I said.
Elle groaned, but her subsequent struggles to hum without laughing only encouraged me further.
Each time she started a new tune, I’d join in, turning our kitchen chores into an impromptu karaoke session.
Elle sighed dramatically. “If I’d known I was going to have to endure a one-man concert, I would’ve brought earplugs.”
“And miss out on my charming voice? I’m hurt,” I replied, grinning.
We continued with our task, our hands reaching for plates and pans, always so close yet never touching, creating a tantalizing dance of nearness and distance.
But our sink choreography was interrupted when Elle stretched to grab a scrubber and accidentally nudged a bottle of dish soap. As if in slow motion, it wobbled and then tipped, landing in my basin with a dramatic splash. I looked down at the droplets of soapy water now covering my shirt. Her wet hand hovered in front of her mouth and a gasp escaped her lips. “Oh! I’m so terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey, I just showered. I didn’t need a second one!” My mock annoyance only made her giggle, the sound delightful. “And you’re laughing at me now?” I teased, scooping up a cupful of murky water.
Elle’s eyes widened in playful horror. “You wouldn’t!”
“Oh yes, I would,” I said with a sly grin.
Elle tried to make a run for it, but I was too fast for her. I slid in front of the door before she could exit. Her forward momentum caused her to slam right into me. I circled my arm around her waist, holding her in place while I held the dreaded cup above her head. She smelled like citrus. Oops, I should not be holding her. I let her go, but still held the cup up, poised to toss her way.
Elle inched backwards, as if hesitant to spook me. “It was an accident. This is too much. I’ll stink for days.”
I laughed at the drama of it all. Suddenly, she stopped backing away and stood up tall, all confidence again. I frowned, trying to figure out her game plan. She winked at something or someone behind me and before I could look over my shoulder, my hand was tipped, and the water poured down my face.
Brenda, with a triumphant hobble, squeezed passed me into the kitchen.
“Brenda, how could you? I thought we were friends,” I protested in feigned betrayal.
“Elle has been helping me all afternoon. I love you, Gray Hudson, but I couldn’t let that dirty water land on sweet Elle.”
Elle’s smug smile spoke volumes about her apparent mischievous streak. Interesting.
With a dismissive wave, Brenda shooed me out of the kitchen. “Off with you, boy.”
Dinner was a lively event, with everyone sharing stories from their morning adventures while also discussing the crafts and games for the next day. As soon as we finished eating, Jenny claimed Elle to help cut out stars for the following day’s story time.
Jenny, one of the other summer camp leaders, was a free spirit. She had a bohemian flair evident in her flowing skirts, layers of beaded necklaces, and the daisies she’d woven into her hair. Her entire appearance made her seem more like a twelve-year-old than a twenty-three-year-old. I wouldn’t have pegged Jenny as the type of person Elle would connect with, but I suppose I hadn’t quite figured Elle out yet. A pang of frustration wove its way through me, as I wished I could be the one working side by side with Elle. Her eyes sparkled as she chatted animatedly with Jenny, their laughter mingling together as they created a galaxy of paper stars.
Observing from a distance, I tried to decipher Jenny’s formula for bringing out this bubbly version of Elle. I longed to connect with Elle in the same way, to engage her in simple conversation and share in her laughter. What would it take for Elle to talk to me with the same enthusiasm and openness? Since seeing her in action at the summer camp this morning, I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to her. But I knew that the only path for us was friendship. And like I told Weston, I was okay with that.
After all the prep was done, we’d usually start a bonfire and chill and chat until bed. Most days we were tired, so no one stayed up too late. I’d been waiting all evening to chat with Elle. It seemed everyone wanted to talk to the new girl. It’s great that they were being so welcoming, but I wanted to get to know her better. So, the moment her conversation with Rick, Jenny’s brother, finished, I gestured for her to sit next to me by the fire. I hoped it wasn’t too forward. But she came and quietly sat next to me. Log chairs encircled the campfire, but they were rather uncomfortable so most of us opted to sit on the ground and lean our backs against them. Elle did the same. As she got settled, I noticed her shiver—the kind that sneaks up on you.
“Hey, are you cold? My hoodie is just over there, let me grab it,” I offered, half-rising.
She brushed off my offer with a wave. “Oh, it’s just chillier than I expected. I’m fine, really.”
I wasn’t convinced. The thought of her being uncomfortable bothered me. “No sweat, I’ll be back in a flash.” I sprinted over to the dining area, grabbed my hoodie, and unzipped it on my way back. “Ta-da,” I said, draping it over her shoulders.
Her smile was all the thanks I needed.
“Hopefully that keeps the chill off,” I said, and made myself comfortable against my log again. Leaning over conspiratorially, I whispered, “Plus, Rick’s got a thing for feeding the fire. Watch, like clockwork, he’ll add a log every ten minutes. If you want we can move your log closer to the fire?”
“No, I’m plenty warm now. Thank you.”
Right on cue, Rick paused his conversation with one of the other leaders to toss another piece of wood onto the flames. Elle’s eyes twinkled as she looked at me, a silent laugh shared between us. We both watched the fire hungrily devour its new meal. But neither of us spoke. Where was chatty Elle?
“Other than appointing yourself as the summer camp Simon Cowell, you fit in well here. Everyone likes you,” I said, hoping to make her feel more at ease.
“Ha-ha. I like it here. Everyone’s so easy to get along with,” she said. “I think I hit the jackpot of all community projects. It’s that or God has my back. Most likely the latter.”
“It’s the latter,” I said. “I can see God at work in your life.”
Elle blushed and offered me a shy smile before looking down. Not wanting the conversation to end, I quickly searched for something else to say. Opting for honesty, I said, “I like your name.”
“Thanks. It’s short for Estelle. My actual name is Estelle Knight. My mom wanted my full name to sound like ‘a starry night’. But during a rebellious patch in my teens, I got people to call me Elle. And it stuck,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “What about your name?”
“My full name is Gray Hudson, and Mom had already chosen my name before I was born. Gray was my great grandpa’s name. I guess my eyes just understood the assignment.”
“Well done, eyes,” she said and gave a small clap at my eye level.
Even though I was sitting, I gave a dramatic bow, as if I had control over my eye color. I enjoyed having Elle here. “Since we have your van to thank for you staying at the hostel, can you tell me more about it? Why is it at the mechanic?”
Elle fidgeted, seemingly uncomfortable with the question. She mumbled a half answer, her words scarcely audible. “Well, it’s, um, you know, just broken van things.”
Strange —I thought to myself, puzzled by her reaction. I decided not to press further, fearing I might have touched on a sensitive topic. To lighten the mood, I changed the subject. “How about kayaking? How long have you been into it?”
At the mention of kayaking, the floodgates of chatter were flung wide open. Elle’s eyes danced with excitement as she told me all about her adventures on the water. She eagerly shared the make and model of her kayak, the different places she’d paddled so far, and everything in between. As she spoke, I found myself captivated by her delight, her face glowing with passion for her hobby.
“I love how kayaking allows me to connect with nature and explore places that would otherwise be inaccessible,” she said, her green eyes reflecting the crackling fire. “There’s just something so freeing about being out on the water, you know?”
I nodded, understanding her sentiments perfectly because I too enjoyed kayaking.
“Speaking of kayaks,” Elle continued, “it’s funny that you referred to me as Kayak Girl yesterday. It’s actually my Instagram handle. Did you know that?”
I chuckled. “No, I didn’t. I’m not really active on social media. I just didn’t know what else to call you.”
Her laughter joined mine.
“Well, I’ve been documenting my journey on Instagram and a personal blog, both titled Kayak Girl.”
“Cool. You seem sporty. Are you into any other sports?” I asked, eager to learn more about her.
She shook her head, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “Not really. I’m flattered I appear sporty—growing up, I was a total nerd. My PE coach used to joke that the only thing I could catch was a cold.”
“Really? That’s hard to believe. I was the opposite; I thrived on sports,” I said, a fond memory of muddy fields flashing through my mind. “Especially football. It definitely kept me out of trouble as a teen.”
I watched Rick amble over with another snack for the fire. My eyes flicked to Elle, curious to see if she’d noticed his movements too. Turns out, she was way ahead of me. She was waiting for me to look at her. The moment our eyes met, a wave of laughter erupted between us, no words needed.
After our laughter faded, Elle’s attention drifted back to the flickering flames, and I followed suit, the warmth of the fire mirroring the warmth in my chest. Lost in the fire’s glow and my thoughts about tonight, I flinched when her fingers gave my elbow a gentle squeeze.
“Football, huh?” she asked, a playful tilt to her head. “Ever score the winning goal, or what do you call it… a touchdown?”
“In American football it’s called a touchdown. And yeah, I had the honor once or twice,” I replied. “But enough about me. I want to hear more about the nerdy version of you. Ever hack into the school computer or build a robot?”
Elle’s laughter bubbled out of her, bright and infectious. “Well, there was this one time I built a paper Maché volcano for science class. My teacher gave me instructions for the reaction—baking soda and vinegar, you know the drill. But I ignored her instructions because I wanted it to be an impressive demonstration, so I tripled the recipe. Let’s just say the classroom turned into a volcanic disaster zone, and I was cleaning up the mess for several hours.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A rebel and a nerd, huh? Interesting combination.”
She nudged me, her eyes twinkling. “What about you? Any embarrassing sports stories?”
“Plenty,” I admitted, chuckling at the memories. “Once, I tried to show off during a football game. I went for a fancy kick, one that involved a back flip, aiming to impress everyone. Ended up flat on my back, and missed the ball completely. The crowd didn’t know whether to cheer or laugh.”
Elle giggled. “I wish I’d seen that. ”
“Nah, I’m kinda grateful you didn’t witness my teenage stupidity.” I grinned. “So, besides causing volcanic eruptions, what other unexpected talents do you have?”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, her eyes reflecting the depth of her imagination. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it a talent, but I used to write poetry. I guess I love the idea of words holding more than they seem.”
“That’s fascinating,” I said, genuinely interested. “I’ve always been more about the literal, the practical. But I admire that kind of creativity.”
Elle just smiled.
I smiled too, content to have experienced the talkative Elle I’d witnessed all evening. Her bubbly chatter was just like everything else about her. A contradiction. There were moments she looked you dead in the eye, full of cheeky confidence, and other moments her shyness seemed to consume her. It intrigued me. I didn’t want our time together to end, but I’d caught Elle stifling a yawn for the second time. Stretching, I felt a mix of reluctance and responsibility. “Guess it’s time for bed,” I announced, pushing myself up from our cozy spot.
Elle looked relieved, and I made a mental note not to keep her up this late tomorrow. I felt somewhat responsible for her since I was her co-leader .
“Yeah, I’ll also call it a day. I’m so tired,” she said with a laugh as she stood. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper of my hoodie.
Instinctively, my hand shot up, halting her. “Keep it,” I insisted. “Consider it on loan until after summer camp.” The rebellious part of me liked the thought of her wearing my hoodie for the next few days.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”
We walked in comfortable silence along the cobbled path to her small studio room, several hundred yards from the campfire.
“This is me here,” she said and pointed to her bright green door.
I gave a dramatic bow. “Sleep well, Estelle Knight. See you tomorrow.”