2. Nat
TWO
Nat
Had Jack gotten hotter?
That was the first thought that popped into my head as I saw the blond-haired, broad-chested, lumberjack of a man standing in the same parking lot as my trusty Subie and the pile of stuff beside it.
Maybe it was the whole smoldering thing he had going on or the fact that he looked like he wanted to fuck me against a door. Was I reading that correctly?
“Oh, Jack.” Relief washed over me. “You have long arms. Can you…?”
Suddenly, that smolder came off as something more like indignation. Or maybe annoyance.
Why was I starting to feel like a rabbit in the sights of a bear?
“What is it, Nat?” He didn’t sound like he cared to know.
My lack of an answer due to sheer confusion must have irritated him, because he walked with determination and reached above my head to grab the duffel bag I’d been trying to get while standing on a tire to give me the edge.
He placed my bag of hiking gear with the rest of my pile of crap and made to walk away before I called him back. His words were confusing, but maybe he was just in a bad mood. Or the sun was in his eyes? When he turned to me, he looked less angry and more apathetic.
Perhaps I’d misread the situation. Only one way to find out. “Any chance you could tell me the code to my cabin? Hazel told me, but I forgot.” My sweaty face probably said as much.
“Call Hazel.” He lifted the red metal toolbox I hadn’t noticed and waved toward camp. “Gotta fix a door.”
Okay, that was definitely contempt in his voice.
“My phone’s dead, but that’s fine…” I felt like a chastened child. “Sorry I asked.” I tried smiling self-deprecatingly, but he didn’t return it. Something was obviously wrong.
He looked at my passenger seat, which held a cute pink mini fridge that could store six soda cans at most. “You know you have your own fridge in your cabin, right?”
Oof, I didn’t want to have to explain the need I had for a fridge to keep my skincare essentials at the proper temperature. Not when he was looking at me like that.
“I need two.”
His eyebrow went up as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. If he learned what it was for, his handsome head would probably explode.
Jack sighed in frustration, scrolling through his phone for my door code. He lifted his eyes and took a breath as if he needed to get something off his chest. Instead, he asked, “Why are you back here, Natalie?”
“Oh,” I said dumbly. Why am I back here? Words escaped me. And why was he saying it like that? “Hazel asked—”
“Hazel,” he said, frustrated. “Hazel.” He looked as if he was about to go tell our boss to suck an egg.
“Is there a problem, Jack?”
“Nope. Not at all. I mean, no one asks my opinion about these things. Your code is zero-eight-zero-five.”
Maybe I was taking someone’s place. Hazel had sounded desperate when we talked, but maybe I’d misheard the desperation in her voice. Obviously, he had someone else in mind for the position.
I tried to come up with something to say. The man had caught me off guard twice in one conversation. But I chose to stand here like an open-mouthed fish instead.
“If that’s all—” he started, but it felt like the end of a sentence.
The last thing I’d ask for at this juncture was more help.
“No, I’m good. Thank you.” There they were. Words.
He turned on his heel and lugged his banged-up toolbox with him, while I stood frozen among the things I couldn’t live without. I watched him walk past the Camp Starlight sign and down the trail until he disappeared, still trying to make sense of the abrasive encounter.
I didn’t know Jack all that well, but we’d had much less hostile conversations during the month I’d worked here last summer, and he hadn’t seemed to have a problem with me then.
Clearly, I’d caught him on an off day. I wasn’t going to let that get to me, so I shrugged it off and removed the last item from my car, ready to reenter the only place that had felt like home in a long time.
I’d traveled far and wide, but Camp Starlight was just special. As if it lived in a bubble in one of the prettiest places in the world. There was a feeling every time I walked into this place like it was… magic.
The air smelled woodsy-er, the birds sang a prettier song, and s’mores never turned out the same when I tried to make them on the road. Even the cabin that had been ignored for several months felt more welcoming than any hotel or homeshare I’d visited in the past two years.
I wiped the sweat from my brow as people walked past my pod to get the place ready for the new guests that would be arriving. I would have helped, but I’d just driven something close to eight hours, and I had to get my house in order if I was going to function for my activities in less than a day.
By midday tomorrow, my cabin would be surrounded by campers. There would be liveliness and happy activity as people unloaded their things into one-room cabins.
The place I was staying in was somewhat larger than the cabins our guests stayed in. It had a small kitchenette and a bathroom. With campers coming and going each week, it was nice having our cabins close together so that we could facilitate bonding around the picnic table and firepit.
I liked my location because it was only fifty feet from the bathrooms and communal showers, which my pod members always loved.
After all, it was nice to be closer to the facilities.
People came here for the camp experience, though bougiefied, and that meant sharing some things.
It was worth it for the camaraderie you got from spending time with fellow campers, and it added to the camp experience.
And Camp Starlight went above and beyond to make this adults-only glamping experience unique and worth the cost.
For one thing, there was the food.
Hazel and Leo had recruited an amazing chef, Azalea, and she’d found a skilled team that made anything from caprese wraps to shakshuka. The standard fare alternated on a nightly basis, so if you wanted a sloppy joe or a hot dog, odds were you could find them, but most chose the delicacies offered.
There were full bars in the mess hall and the bonfire pit for those who chose to partake in alcoholic beverages, and the bartenders, Lola and Luis, a married couple who owned a bar in town, were happy to serve up immaculate creations.
“Hellooo?”
Sunlight shone around my friend, creating this pretty halo she’d probably hate if she knew about, but as enigmatic as Hazel could be, she was also a softy with a big heart.
“Well, if it isn’t the most gorgeous fighter pilot I’ve ever seen.” I cocked my head in admiration.
She frequently wore jumpsuits and overalls and was never without her aviator sunglasses. This was a big change from my former college roommate, who used to be a little more goth before she found her style. Even if she still liked to sport the chunky black boots and ripped tights once in a while.
I grew up in Maryland, just a hop and a skip away from DC.
I’d gone to the West Coast for college to be closer to my mother’s mother, my favorite grandmother, who happened to be in a retirement community in Oregon.
The agreement between my controlling parents and me had been that I’d get my degree in business and come back to join the Breckenridge Group once I’d finished my master’s.
For the most part, I’d done what they wanted, but that had changed after I’d disappointed them in a big way.
She put her hand on her hip and posed. “I need you for a mission.”
“Really? I thought the mission was for me to come here in your hour of need to fill the role of camp counselor. Speaking of which, was everyone on board with me coming back?”
Hazel quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Just curious.”
Hazel didn’t ask me to elaborate. “To answer your question, yes, we do need you. But your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to go pick up marshmallows for tomorrow’s festivities. Because we’d look like fools if we didn’t have enough for s’mores.”
I laughed. “Well, we can’t have that. Let me finish this up, and then I’d be happy to go.”
“Thank goodness, because I don’t want to.” She tossed a pair of rolled-up socks back and forth as she stared into my nearly empty bag. “You’ve got this packing thing down.”
“It’s easy when you don’t have a permanent address. Less stuff to hold on to.” Did that sound depressing? Hopefully not.
“I wish I could live the way you do. You should see my place. It’s inundated with the randomest shit.
Childhood craft projects, photos. Probably every paper airplane Leo has ever made for me.
Lots of tangible memories. In fact, I bet I still have the paper fortune-teller games we made from that night we got drunk on White Claws and ate nachos until we threw up. ”
“I’m surprised they survived that horrendous night.”
I may not have carried everything with me, but I wondered if my mom and stepfather had any sort of class photos or projects I’d worked hard on from my past. But I shrugged it off, knowing the truth.
They’d probably thrown those things away the second they came across them.
That sort of thing didn’t fit their aesthetic, curated to an inch of its life.
They definitely didn’t have some box in the attic with my name on it.
But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“I didn’t get to talk to him yet, but how’s Leo?”
“Leo is… Leo.” The smile that took over her face had me wishing I’d had my own… whatever Leo was to Hazel.
I’d known her since our freshman year of college, where she’d talked about him constantly.
They’d been friends since their own days at camp as adolescents, and they’d been practically inseparable, even when hundreds of miles away from each other.
I always wondered if there was more to their relationship than they let on.
Any observer would have questions. She never outwardly claimed to have feelings for him, but she was also excellent at deflecting whenever the topic was brought up.