9. Becca
Miller’s breath is soft against my lips. He’s barely a few inches away, so close that if he were someone else, it would seem like he was about to kiss me.
And it has to be that thought, the idea that someone else would be close enough to kiss me, that makes my heart race and my breath hitch in my chest. I force my eyes open, trying to break the spell, but all I see are the deep blue eyes with gold flecks in them staring into mine, his pupils dark with something I can’t read.
And then he lifts his head enough for me to see the smirk that says he knows exactly how his closeness affected me, and fuck, do I hate him.
It’s not enough that he humiliated me by making us demonstrate a rescue, that he takes nothing seriously and just wants to fuck around all day. Now he’s embarrassing me on this beach in front of half the summer staff.
My face burns as I clench my jaw and cross my arms over my chest to hide my nipples, which have completely betrayed me by growing hard. “I’m alive. Thanks.”
He settles back, his butt on his heels as he studies me. “You good?” he asks.
Um, no, I’m not good. I want to murder you. And then disappear.
“Fine,” I manage. “Just covered in sand.” I lift myself up on my elbows and look at Jana. “Are we done? I’m dying for a shower.”
Jana dismisses us, and I practically run to the showers. I stand under the hot spray, scrubbing myself furiously with a bar of pink Dove soap to wash off the sand, along with whatever bullshit made my body react the way it did.
I’m better than this. I’m smart, or at least I used to think I was.
I managed to get into medical school, for whatever that’s worth, my recent class performance aside. So I’m not the kind of girl who just melts into a puddle when some asshole puts me on the spot and brings his—admittedly hot—body near mine.
What’s wrong with me?
I wash myself twice. Because there has to be something in the air if my body is completely betraying me.
I take a deep breath as I rinse the suds from my body, admiring the tiny tattoo just below my hipbone. It’s a tiny ladybug, strategically placed to be invisible in even a bathing suit.
I actually got it when I was a camp counselor up here, the summer after I turned eighteen. It was a small act of rebellion, and I loved having a part of camp with me—both the ladybug symbol that I chose to represent the Ladybugs section of camp that I love so much, and the tattoo itself.
My first summer on staff was the first time I’d been away from home for so long and on my own. It was nice to have something for myself, something uniquely for me.
And so far, no one but me has seen the tattoo.
Another deep breath. I hold it for three seconds, then let it out slowly. Campers will be here the day after tomorrow, so I only have to deal with Miller for the rest of today, which is really just dinner and the socializing after. Most of tomorrow will be spent getting the cabins ready.
I can handle a few more hours of him.
I can handle anything.
We’ll find out our co-counselors after dinner tonight. I turn around under the spray while I mull over the other counselors that I know are in my unit, wondering who I’ll be paired with. Even as a late addition to the staff, I’m considered a senior counselor, so I have some pull in the way we’ll do things in the cabin.
As I turn the water off, I’m already thinking of decorations and cabin games and icebreakers and all the things I want to do with the campers. I can’t wait.
* * *
Dinner is spaghetti, and I manage to snag a spot with a bunch of the girls, far away from Miller. I catch a glimpse of him from across the dining hall. He’s grinning, and the entire table is laughing. He’s managed to get a bunch of the guys under his spell, apparently. Actually, most of camp, as far as I can tell. It seems like I’m the only one who’s not swayed by his charm.
“Nice view, huh?” Vivien winks at me and nudges me with her elbow.
I roll my eyes. “Um, right. No. I’m just trying to figure out what’s so stinking funny over there.”
She giggles. “Probably something Miller said. He’s hilarious. How was being paired with him for lifeguard stuff?” Vivien and some of the other non-waterfront staff opted out of lifeguard training, so at least it wasn’t the entire staff that witnessed my humiliation.
Just most of them. I hold back a grimace at the thought.
“Annoying, mostly. He doesn’t take anything seriously.” I pick up a slice of garlic bread from the plate in the center of the table. “Like, lifeguarding is serious. I don’t know why he can’t just focus for a few hours. Why he needs to be the center of attention all the time.”
And why he needs to drag me into it.
“Well, he’s certainly got my attention.” Vivien twirls some spaghetti on her fork.
I’m not sure I have a reply to that. Fortunately, I don’t have to say anything, because McKenna stops at our table.
“Hey, ladies. Want some cabin assignments?” our unit leader asks.
We all turn to her with rapt attention. Your co-counselor factors heavily in how your summer goes, especially these first few weeks. You live with them, work with them, lean on them when things get tough. I cross my fingers that I’ll get along with mine.
McKenna looks at her clipboard as she lists off names. “Lillian, you’re with Sophia in Cabin 1. Grace and Liz, Cabin 4. Cabin 3 is Madison and Abby—they’re at that table over there if you haven’t met them yet. And Becca and Vivien, congrats, two senior counselors in one cabin. Cabin 2.”
Vivien gives me a side hug with a little squeal. I return the gesture with a grin.
“Can you believe we’re together?” she asks, a little breathless from excitement. “Having two seniors together is going to rock. I can’t wait.”
I’m thrilled, too. It’s not just that Vivien has become a friend in the short time I’ve been here. Having her as a co-counselor takes some of the stress off me, too. Junior counselors, the ones who are in their first year on staff, usually need more oversight and mentoring. Being with another senior, though? We both have experience to draw on.
I can trust her to manage things, and she can trust me. And of all the people I’ve met on staff so far, she’s the best one I could have picked to spend the next weeks living with.
“What’s everyone’s plan for tonight?” I ask, looking around the table and back to Vivien as I take another bite of food. “Maybe we can get together and talk about things for the first week. I’m so excited!”
Vivien looks thoughtful. “Well, I don’t think they’re going to play flip cup anymore after Jackson almost threw up. Campfire at like eight, then maybe we just hang out in the cabin? I want to make a list so we can run to Target tomorrow for things we need.”
I love the way her mind works.
“Perfect. Let’s chat after the campfire.”
* * *
I’m so excited that I wake up as soon as it starts to get light out. The only ones that I know who wake up as early as I do are Andrea and Bridget, and they’re now living in a tent across camp with a few of the other leaders. The remaining girls in my cabin are still snoring softly as I wrap myself in a blanket and head to the dining hall for my morning coffee.
The mist is doing its thing coming off the lake, and the swing is covered in a fine layer of dew, but the blanket is thick enough that I’m still cozy. I make a list in my head while I sip on my coffee of the things I want to do today.
Target run, make a poster with the rules for the cabin, decorate the cabin door with the campers’ names before they show up tomorrow.
Tomorrow. My heart gives a happy little leap.
I haven’t been this excited in a long time.
At one point I thought my love of kids and working with them as a camp counselor would translate well to being a pediatrician if the whole surgeon thing didn’t work out. I understand kids, relate to them well. I figured med school was just a steppingstone to get there.
I never imagined I’d be wondering if I’d be able to finish.
My stomach twists as my thoughts stray to my parents. God, what will they think?
At some point, they’re going to want to know how third year is going, since my former classmates should be starting their first rotation this week. I can only pretend to busy for so long before I’ll have to admit that I’m spending my summer up here, trying to regain some sense of control in my life, and that I’m redoing my second year.
I push off the ground to make the swing rock back and forth as I curl my feet up next to me.
No more thoughts of school. We’re not at school. We’re going to focus on camp and the campers for the next six weeks, and then we’ll deal with all the shit waiting for us back in New York.
I hold the coffee to my lips and savor the scent.
“How’s it going?”
I startle but manage to only spill a few drops of coffee on the blanket. I turn my head to find Miller walking up to the swing. My swing.
“This is a great spot,” he remarks, coming to a stop beside me. “Mind if I join you?”
There are very few polite responses I can think of for that. Fuck off would not be considered camp appropriate, nor would there’s no chance in hell I want to spend time with you voluntarily. Perhaps over my dead body.
While I contemplate the best way to tell him to get lost, Miller slides onto the end of the swing opposite me. I’m curled up with my feet on the swing, and Miller’s body is wide enough that my toes push into his hip.
“Um,” I hesitate, unsure what one says in this situation.
Miller gives me that signature smile of his. “Perfect time to hang out, right? No one else is up. This is beautiful.”
I give him a short nod. Yes, it’s beautiful. No, it’s not a good time to hang out. It’s a good time to be alone, Miller.
“Did you get your cabin assignment?” he asks, putting a hand on the back of the swing, his arm so long that his fingertips brush my shoulder. I hate that the air crackles with electricity between us. “I’m Fireflies 2 with Dave. Should be fun.”
Fireflies 2 is just through the woods from Ladybugs 2. Our cabins are the two closest ones between the units, with their own little path between the two buildings.
But I don’t think I’m going to mention that to Miller. The last thing I need is him bugging me more than he already is. With a deep breath I try to hide from him, I force myself to unclench my jaw.
“What are you doing out here?” I finally ask.
His eyebrow quirks. “Felt like having some quiet time. But I saw you out here and thought it would be nice to hang out. What are you doing out here?”
Having alone timesounds like a bitchy answer, so I shrug. “Just enjoying the view.”
He nods and looks at the lake in silence for a few minutes. “So, what’s your cabin assignment? You like your co-counselor?”
He’s being nice, and I have no reason to be a bitch other than wanting to be alone. And the way he humiliated me yesterday, but there’s no one around now. I’ve thought about it more—of course I did, my anxiety working overtime and keeping me from falling asleep—and I realized that maybe it wasn’t about me. Maybe he just likes being the center of attention.
The only other reason to push him away is the way my body is reacting to him, and I’m just not going to acknowledge that. I can’t, for about a million reasons.
And I may not like him, but I can be polite. “I’m in Ladybugs 2 with Vivien. I’m excited, actually. Can’t wait to move in and start decorating today.” I shrug.
He tilts his head, his brow creasing. “Decorating what?”
“Um, the cabin. We’re going to cut out pictures with the campers’ names on them, so they feel welcome. Like, maybe a cloud with Vivien’s and my names and then the campers on raindrops. Or a bunch of flowers, or something.”
Miller looks even more confused. “Why? Don’t they tell the campers which cabin they’re supposed to go to?” he asks.
“They do, but it’s… more to make them feel at home, or something. You don’t have to, I guess. I don’t even know if all the guys decorate to quite the extent the girls’ campers do. Or at all.” I sip at the coffee, which is starting to get cool.
We sit in silence again while I hold the mug at my lips, sipping slowly. As I drain the last drops, Miller turns away from the lake to look over at me.
“So, aside from decorating the cabins, is there anything else should I know about camp, Yoda?”
I meet his gaze. Even with his smile, there’s something in those blue eyes that makes me nervous. It’s like he sees something inside me. Like he knows too much. Or like if I’m not careful, I’m going to share too much.
“Nope. Just like sitting out here.” I pop the p for extra emphasis. The last thing I need is for Miller to see my secrets and insecurities. My anxiety rears its ugly head, telling me that he’d just use them for a laugh. And I’m intellectual enough to know that’s probably not the case, but even so, I’m going to keep some things to myself.
He doesn’t push, and we sit together in silence until the camp bell rings to signal that it’s time to wake up and start the day.