8. Eight
Eight
Brennon
It had been the same all year, and worse on the days when some blog or newspaper headline crossed my path shouting about Antoinette Barrett’s triumphant return to the family dynasty.
Those days, I wanted to turn into Cole, yelling and punching walls.
But that wasn’t my style, so I had found myself reaching for a blunt instead.
At least at school, I had near-constant access to weed.
At first, the smoke had dulled my anger enough that I could finally get some sleep, and over time, it just got easier and easier to stay high and not give a fuck.
Turns out, you can fight it all you want, but eventually, your apple’s gonna roll right back towards the old tree.
There was no escaping that Grace DNA. Not that I’d seen Blue for more than twenty whole minutes in the last calendar year.
He was either on tour or on the phone with his agent, or some other fucker I couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about.
The only problem was, now that I was here in the middle of the woods, there were no drugs, and so while I wasn’t in the kind of withdrawal I’d seen my mother go through anytime she’s tried to kick the habit–not that that had happened recently, either–my mind was whirring at a pace I was no longer used to.
It was thanks to the absence of that familiar haze, that my eyes caught twitches off the branches deep in the woods in front of me.
The sharp knocking of the twigs in a linear pattern only drew more of my attention.
And when the noise finally stopped, my eyes, so attuned to the darkness after all these nights, fell on the back of Xav’s tapered shoulders.
He was breathing hard, like he’d run a marathon, but instead of his normal running gear, he had a pair of grey sweatpants slung low over his hips.
And when he grabbed the edge of his T-shirt, dragging it up to wipe the sweat from his brow, the two dimples at the base of his spine shined even in the barely present moonlight.
Thankfully, before he could turn and catch me staring, he tilted his head side to side and took off at a run, heading away from the heart of the village, toward the parking lot instead.
Most of us who aren’t cabin leaders live all summer in the village, but not Xav.
He’s got some kind of arrangement with Jack–he has for as long as we’ve been on staff–that has him living in one of the tiny bunk-huts out past the parking lot where the kitchen staff live.
The only reason I even know that is thanks to Chef Brad, who spilled the beans a couple of years ago after I’d grilled him one too many times about getting my own private bbq.
He invited me out to his little trailer at the far end of the property on the condition that I didn’t act like a pretentious dick.
I’d been out there less than twenty minutes before Xav had pulled the guy aside and demanded I get the fuck gone.
I’m not even sure what I did to piss him off, at least not back then.
Now, I’m sure that’s where Xav’s headed, although fuck knows why he was even here this late at night.
Unless he was spying on Birdie. As soon as that thought sprang across my mind, I knew I was right.
In the two weeks since she and her brother turned up, I hadn’t seen Xav so much as look at her, let alone speak to her.
In fact, I hadn’t seen Birdie speak to anyone other than Abbi, Michele or Bella.
She didn’t even really seem to speak to her sibling, despite the fact that he was always around, at least during mealtimes, where he hovered over her like a storm cloud.
I didn’t give a shit about her after she abandoned us again, but one of my favourite things about Toni had always been our shared love of dessert.
It didn’t escape my notice that for the last fourteen days, every tray of cookies or cake that passed under her nose in the dining hall went untouched.
Last night, she practically fucking flinched when the brownies passed her by.
Not that I needed to be bothered by what she, or hell, Xav, were up to.
I needed to concentrate on getting some proper rest, otherwise, I was going to be useless tomorrow, and Riley would once again have to pick up the slack.
Slowly, I picked myself up, dusted the dirt from the soft denim of my most well-worn jeans, and took my ass to bed.
Not that that meant a damn thing. I didn’t get more than a couple of hours that night.
Or the next. Or the one after that. For the next three nights, no matter how much I tried to talk myself into ignoring it or pretending like I didn’t care what they were up to, without fail, there I was, sitting outside watching the trees for movement, scanning the dark for any signs of Xavier or Toni.
Sure enough, night after night, long after the staff curfew, there he was.
Always running to or from the direction of Toni’s cabin but never accompanied by her.
Were they hooking up? Or had Xav just taken to stalking her?
Without leaving my front step, it was impossible to know.
They didn’t eat together at meals, never spoke, and in the light of day, never came within five feet of one another.
But the looks they shared when they thought no one else was watching, full of longing and heat, were enough to tell me something was still going on between them, even if it was only happening under the cover of darkness.
Three nights of that shit was more than enough, so the next morning, I was determined to find out more about what those two were up to.
Call it curiosity, or call it masochism, but not knowing was starting to consume me.
Instead of combing through camper accounts yesterday, making sure every camper was assigned to the programs or elite levels that their mommies and daddies wanted them in, I spent the day using Agonde’s only slow-ass internet connection to backtrack through every photo, article, and gossip blog that had profiled Toni since her return to the Barrett empire.
My sharp eyes zeroing in on every word and image, searching for any clues or hints as to the nature of her personal life.
All I got for my fucking trouble was line after line about ‘The value of family,’ or ‘Loving and devoted father rejoices in children’s return,’ and about a million different versions of the same photo.
Toni, squeezed between her father and brother.
Sure, she was in a different designer dress in each one, but she always looked squeezed into a too small space between them.
She smiled in every photo, but in the better shots–the official, high-resolution ones–I caught an emptiness in her eyes that I couldn’t quite understand.
Thankfully, today, Riley joined me in the office.
At the second workstation, he busily tapped his way through file after file.
The clacking of the keyboard keys was enough to keep me focused on my own task.
Jack, predictably, was nowhere to be found.
That lazy motherfucker was probably asleep in his cabin at the far edge of the property.
Sure, he’d been putting in the odd appearance at mealtimes, definitely more than last summer, but otherwise, I never saw him.
Considering my desk was all of four feet from the guy’s office I was definitely within my rights to call him lazy.
The ring from the office phone drew my thoughts away from my absent boss and back to my actual job. I answered the receiver, “Camp Agonde Main Office, Brennon speaking.”
An angry man answered, “Where’s Jack?”
Rolling my eyes at Riley, who was now looking over with interest thanks to the volume of this guy’s demanding voice, I replied “I’m sorry, Jack’s not in the office at the moment. Can I take a message?”
“Tell him Daniel called.”
“Daniel,” I paused waiting on this grouch to supply a surname.
“Daniel. He’ll know who I am.” I made a silent gagging motion, which caused Riley to chuckle and me to grin. This entitled prick reminded me of Blue. That was exactly the kind of shit he said to people all the time.
“Okay, just-Daniel. I’ll let him know you called.”
Without a thank you or anything, the guy hung up. Grabbing a scrap of paper from the pile currently covering my desk, I flipped it over, making sure it wasn’t anything important before scribbling out the message for Jack,
A Daniel called for you. Suggest you call him back. Sounds cranky.
Since he’s hardly ever using it, Jack has taken to leaving his office unlocked in the last couple of years.
It’s not common knowledge, but I guess since I’ve worked in here so long he figures he can trust me.
There’s nothing of any value or interest in there anyway, unless you’re looking for an old phone or an even older desktop computer.
I didn’t linger or even pause to look around after dropping the note on this desk.
The sound of the front door slapping closed made me look up as I walked back to my desk.
Abbi’s ass was in the air, and she leaned her top half forward over a still-seated Riley.
And while I might have the musical taste to appreciate her thrifted Blondie t-shirt, Riley’s eyes were focused on her body beneath it.
Even after hooking up all last summer, she still sent the kid into a horny daze any time she even looked at him. It was pretty funny to watch.
“Rockstar,” she greeted me, snapping Riley from what I’m sure was a lovely daydream about her tits.
“Abbi,” I nodded back before sliding my ass into my chair. After that, I did my best to tune them out, ignoring Riley’s puppy dog stare and lovesick replies until Abbi said, “I’ll stop by your cabin later tonight.” Riley groaned.
“Don’t be like that.” Abbi slapped him playfully, “I promised Toni and Michele we’d hang out first. But don’t worry, I’ll come see you after.”