26. Becca
“She did what?” Brett’s voice gets louder and somehow deeper, if that’s even possible.
Jesus, he’s scary, especially sitting here in his office. He’s behind a large desk, arms crossed over his chest, while we’re sitting in front of it, like kids who’ve been called into the principal’s office and are being asked to fess up to their crimes.
“She, uh, snuck out of the tent. She was upset about her parents and wanted time to herself,” I say, trying to gauge how much to tell Brett.
“They’re getting divorced. The other girls were talking about their parents, and she was upset. Understandably, right?” Miller takes over. “Everyone was asleep. No one knew she was missing until we all woke up.”
I notice that he conveniently leaves out the part where he and I took a tent to ourselves and left the campers sleeping in tents by themselves. Also the part where we left them alone while we went to look for Bayley.
“Jesus, fuck. This is a disaster. Is she okay?” Brett pinches the bridge of his nose.
I nod. “She’s fine. She was shaken up, but Miller, uh, talked to her and helped her calm down. I think she’s looking forward to another week at camp.” Please don’t fire us.
“And here I thought you two would make a good pair,” Brett mutters, dropping his arms with a sigh. “Best laid plans and all that. Okay. Miller, go help Jason with putting all the backpacks away and hanging out the tents. They all need to dry out. Becca, let’s call Bayley’s parents together.”
Miller gives me a sympathetic look before he ducks out.
Brett pulls the phone to the center of his desk. He taps on a computer keyboard, then stares at the screen while he dials a number. He puts the call on speakerphone.
My stomach clenches as the phone rings. The sound seems to echo in the small office.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice answers.
Brett speaks first. “Hello, is this Ms. Kingston? Bayley’s mom?”
The woman hesitantly responds, “Yes, this is she.”
“This is Brett Morton, the director here at Camp Winnie. Everything is fine, and I’m here with Becca Patel, Bayley’s counselor. We just have a little update for you.”
A little updateseems to be putting it mildly.
Brett looks at me and nods. I force my fists to unclench and clear my throat. “Hi, Ms. Kingston, this is Becca. I’m Bayley’s counselor, and I was one of the leaders for her overnight trip this weekend. We went backpacking on Mount Chocorua.”
“Okay.” Bayley’s mother sounds understandably concerned. “And?”
I swallow hard. “She was a little upset the night we stayed out there, camping. Some of the girls were talking about their parents.”
There’s a brief silence. Then, “Oh. I, um, Bayley’s dad and I are getting divorced. That’s probably why.”
Brett nods at me to keep going.
“Yes, she mentioned that. So I guess she wanted to be alone for a bit and think. She snuck out of the tent after everyone went to sleep.”
“What?” Mrs. Kingston exclaims, her voice through the speaker phone echoing around Brett’s small office. “What in the world was she thinking?”
“I’m not sure. But, um, she ended up getting lost. We didn’t know she wasn’t in the tent until the morning when everyone woke up. My co-counselor and I found her, and she’s fine, but she did spend the night sleeping in the woods.”
There’s no answer for a minute, and I start to worry.
Is she in her car already, on her way here to skin me alive for not watching out for her daughter? Texting a killer-for-hire to do the dirty work for her?
“Ms. Kingston?” Please don’t be hiring an assassin.
“She’s that upset about the divorce?” Her voice cracks.
I swallow against the lump that rises in my throat. Maybe we’re all worried about disappointing someone. Unable to speak, I look at Brett.
He clears his throat and takes over. “It sounds like she was upset enough to want some alone time. Regardless, she’s fine now. We do have a policy that says campers aren’t allowed to call their parents, and this is largely to decrease homesickness. But I think in this situation it might be helpful if she could speak with you, and maybe with her dad as well.”
The woman sniffles. “Yes, of course.”
Brett nods to me, and I stand as he keeps speaking. “Becca will go get Bayley now. Hold on a minute.”
Bayley is seated on a picnic table outside the office, twisting her small fingers together in front of her. I wave at her from the doorway. “Come on in. Your mom wants to talk to you.”
She heads in, and I take her spot at the picnic table.
* * *
Bayley’s talk with her mother must have gone well. She has a smile on her face as we walk back to our cabin, and it doesn’t fade as she meets the two new campers that replaced Maya and Helena, as we hear about the overnight that Emma and Olivia went on while we were hiking, as we go to swim screen and dinner and orientation, even as we get ready for bed.
I give each of the girls a high five as they tuck themselves into bed.
Vivien and I head to the picnic table outside the cabin. “Do you want to go to the dining hall tonight?” I ask. “You’ve spent more time supervising the cabin than I have.”
She taps a finger against her lips. “In a little, maybe. I want to hear more about your overnight. I need all the gossip, girl. You guys came back and then you disappeared into Brett’s office. What happened on your trip?”
I sink onto the bench next to her. “It was… interesting. We camped at a different spot than we planned, got stuck in a thunderstorm, and then Bayley got lost. It was kind of a disaster.” I sigh, twisting my fingers together. “I’m just glad we’re home in one piece.”
“And?” she prods.
“And what? You need more screwups than that?”
Vivien narrows her eyes. “No, doofus. I want to hear about you and Miller.”
Oh. Right.
My cheeks heat at the thought of our night in the tent. “Uh. Well, the campers wanted to have tents to themselves, so they didn’t have to break up the girls. So, uh, Miller and I shared one.”
“One what?” Vivien’s forehead wrinkles in confusion.
I chew on my thumbnail. “Um, a tent.”
Her mouth falls open. “And? Then what? You two spent the night together?”
“We talked. He’s… not as much of an asshole as I thought he was.”
“Oh my God, you’re the worst at girl talk. Did you kiss? Cuddle? Bang? Are you together now? We need answers.”
I frown as I think. “Well, we kissed, but… I don’t know the rest. I don’t know if we’re together or a couple or what. He wasn’t like touchy-feely when we got back, but you know, campers. God, this rule about keeping things from the campers makes it really hard to know when someone likes you.”
Vivien rolls her eyes. “Everyone on camp knows that Miller likes you, Becca. It’s not some big secret. Even some of the campers have picked up on it. The question is if you like him.”
Yes.“I don’t know.”
“Why?” Vivien presses. “You guys kissed. You slept in the same tent. That’s a lot of time to spend with someone and not know if you like him.”
“I just… need to think, I guess. I like him, I just don’t know the rest of it. Like, are we even together? Maybe he just wanted to prove he could get me to kiss him or something. Maybe it was all a prank.” Now that I haven’t seen Miller in a few hours, doubt is creeping in.
Would he go that far? Get a girl to fall for him just to prove he can?
“Go.” Vivien gives me a shove. “That settles it. You go to the dining hall, find your man, and fucking talk to him. You guys are the oldest people on staff besides Brett. If you can’t figure your shit out, there’s no hope for the rest of us.”
I grab my phone from the cabin before I head to the dining hall. Vivien is right. Of course, she’s right. Why is it so hard to talk to guys about this stuff?
“Hey there,” a voice says as I walk past M-Hall, nearing the dining hall.
I turn around to find Dave a few yards behind me. My stomach sinks. If Dave is here, Miller is back at the cabin.
“I hear you’re my co-counselor-in-law,” he says, looping his arm through my elbow.
“Huh?” I’m not sure that’s even a thing, and if it is, I have no idea what it means.
He laughs, pulling me in tighter to his side for a brotherly hug. “You’re with Miller, right? And he’s my co-counselor. Hence, co-counselor-in-law.”
I groan. “That’s not a thing, Dave.” But that means Miller said something to him. My heart leaps at the idea of Miller telling people about us.
Because it means maybe there is an us.
“Well, it should be.” Dave says with a shrug.
We reach the dining hall door, and Dave releases my arm as I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and hold it up. “I’m going to check my phone real quick. I’ll see you in there,” I say.
But as I head down to the beach, I slide my phone back into my pocket without looking at it. Because what I really need is time alone, time to think.
I wander down to the beach, reliving the last week. How has Miller changed so much in my eyes?
It seems like forever ago that I was standing right here, hoping to avoid him by spending time walking along the beach. Now, there’s a pit in my stomach, because I won’t get to see him tonight.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and my heart leaps, hoping it’s him.
God, I’m turning into one of those girls, aren’t I? The kind who gets excited about a text because it might be from the guy they’re thinking about.
But I’m so hopeful that the message is from him that I don’t even care. I pull the phone out so fast I almost drop it into the sand. A smile spreads across my face when I see the name.
Miller
Hey. Hope you’re getting to spend some time away from the campers. Dave bugged me until I caved and sent him away, so sorry I’m not there. I wish you could come over here.
Too bad I’m not allowed to hang out by the boys’ cabins at night. Tomorrow is my night off, but maybe the next night?
Your night off is mine now. I have plans for us.
Yeah?
Yeah. Meet me at the swing after dinner.
What are we doing? What should I wear?
I stare at the phone, waiting for an answer, but there are no three little dots indicating that Miller is typing an answer. After three minutes of waiting, I force myself to put my phone in my pocket. Maybe a camper woke up and needed him or something. That’s the reason one of the counselors has to stay within view of the cabin, after all.
But even after I walk the length of the beach, all the way to the very end of the Boating department and back to the dining hall, there’s still no answer.
And despite how much I wish he’d text me back right now, I can’t tamp down my joy.
I have a date tomorrow.
With Miller.