9. Nine
Nine
Cole
Kids arrive today, and the last thing I want to be thinking about is Brennon’s insane conspiracy theories about our former friends.
Yet, here I was. Jack always asked staff to appear presentable on drop-off days, hence the collared, official-looking Camp Agonde t-shirt currently slipping over my head.
But as I dressed, instead of focusing on the day ahead, I was thinking about Xavier Rothberg.
Since my sixteenth birthday–fuck, maybe even before that–I have done everything in my power not to think about Xavier Rothberg.
And now, I was wondering what he was up to, why he was running around Camp in the middle of the night.
What if he was scheming, or worse, what if he was out there fucking Toni every chance he got.
He as good as told us they fucked last summer, even though I couldn’t hear it over the ringing in my ears at the time.
It just became another thing on the growing list of things I tried not to think about.
If Xavi was number one on that list, then Toni was a close second, and any pictures in my head of their bodies, panting and pressed together, firmly rounded out third place.
None of that mattered today. I needed to focus and get my game face on.
I finished getting dressed and walked over to the small mirror stacked on top of my plastic storage-drawers, the kind all college students use, and that I carted back and forth between Agonde and MSU each summer.
I stared at my reflection as I practiced smiling and waving.
It felt idiotic to wave at myself, but I knew it was necessary with how awkward the movements felt.
My cheeks were out of practice smiling, but I couldn’t very well frown at parents all day long.
After a couple more tries, it still felt phony as hell, but at least my smile had stopped looking like a grimace.
I was out of time anyway, because I was due at the office any minute.
Arrivals would officially start at 11 a.m., but there were always those parents who turned up early, eager to offload their kids for the summer.
Brennon’s Dad had always been like that.
It was my job, and that of all the other senior and program staff to greet those kids, help with their bags, and make them feel welcome so they didn’t notice their parents’ relief at ditching them.
One by one, we would escort them to their cabins, where their cabin leaders would take over so we could head back to the office and start the whole thing over again until the last kid was dropped off.
As I walked along the path from my little cabin, past the Centre Circle, most of the program staff, including a bunch of the newbies, were milling around.
Seated on the benches at the heart of the Circle were Mitchell and Francis.
Lately those two were inseparable. Last summer it had been me sitting there with Mitch, surrounded by all the junior staff, eager to hear our stories and get our advice.
Now, from the outside, it just looked exhausting.
Francis spotted me, even as I kept my distance, giving me a wry grin and a small salute of recognition.
I ducked my chin, acknowledging him, but kept walking even though I felt his eyes on my back until well after trees blocked me from view.
Getting to the office wasn’t much better.
Perched on a wide pine railing that bordered the office deck were Toni and Michele.
Toni giggled, the sound light and musical, while Michele gestured wildly telling some story I couldn’t hear.
I hung back watching them both. Michele was smiling through her tale, while Toni’s whole face was brighter than I had seen it throughout most of staff training.
They were happy, and I wasn’t sure whether that made me happy, too, or just jealous.
I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.
Michele must have landed the punchline of her story, because suddenly, both girls were tumbling off the railing, laughing so hard, I swear even from thirty feet away I heard Toni snort.
The three of us used to chase her around Throw, making faces and shouting in silly voices until she would collapse in a fit of giggles, and almost every time, if we got her to laugh hard enough, she’d make that sound.
And that would set the rest of us off, too.
Behind them, the office door swung open, and Toni’s laughter died instantly as Jack stepped out into the sun. He looked directly at her, ignoring Michele completely as he greeted her.
“Good morning, Toni, glad to see you here so early,” He continued to watch her as she got up from the deck’s surface and brushed off her jeans, “We haven’t really had a chance to chat since you got here.”
Growing up, Toni always looked at Jack with a mixture of love and awe. Honestly, she treated him like a second father. But now, she was more guarded, eyeing him warily as she answered, “Good morning.”
She ignored the second part of his statement in favor of reaching for Michele’s hand and helping her to her feet as well.
“C’mon Mich, I think I hear a car,” Toni said, tugging her toward the road.
Initially, I assumed she was full of shit, making an excuse to get away from Jack, but seconds later I heard the telltale sounds of gravel hitting bumpers, as not one, but a small convoy of three cars came swinging around the curve in the road.
Most of the other staff were still at the Circle, too busy flirting to do their goddamned jobs, so I was planning to step up and help the two girls.
I wouldn’t have to speak to them, since we’d all be focused on the kids anyway.
But as I walked that direction, my eyes drifted back to Jack, who watched Toni intently from the deck.
His index fingers were tented, and he tapped them against his lips, like he was counting down to something.
Then again, Jack’s too lazy to scheme, so he was probably just irritated that Toni had brushed him off.
Deciding that was the case, I turned my attention to the cars now parking side by side.
Toni was already chatting with the family that had gotten out of the first car.
Michele was waving at two girls who jumped from the backseat of the second the minute it came to a complete stop.
That left the third car for me, and I only hoped more of the staff would show their stupid faces before any more families arrived.
I made my way over to the sleek silver sedan as its engine shut off.
When no one emerged, I knocked on the tinted window.
I expected the driver to get out at that point.
Instead, the window rolled down to reveal a skinny man in a suit wearing dark sunglasses.
Even with the air conditioning blasting inside the car, the man must have been roasting in the June sun after such a long drive.
His skin did look a bit on the clammy side, with small beads of sweat lacing his forehead.
Even while I watched him, the guy never turned to look my way. Not even when I introduced myself.
“Hello, sir, I’m Cole Michaels, Boys Section Head.”
He just kept staring straight ahead at the office deck, where my eyes followed.
Thankfully, a few of the program staff had now joined the Director and the group stood around nervously watching for more arrivals.
Whatever the guy was looking at made his movements jerky and his right hand twitched over the gear stick repeatedly until he finally grunted, “Kids are in the back.”
This asshole wasn’t even going to get out of the car to say goodbye to his children.
I bit back the urge to reach through the window and punch him.
Even if he deserved it, I couldn’t have the other parents seeing that.
Wordlessly, I sidestepped and reached for the handle on the back door.
Inside were a boy and a girl. Both looked too skinny and too serious for their ages, which couldn’t have been more than twelve.
I smiled and introduced myself again. This time, my greeting was met with shy faces.
“And who are you two?” I asked gently. The girl sucked in a panicked breath and looked down at her lap.
The boy reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers, never taking his eyes off me.
I got the feeling I was being watched and maybe even tested.
After a few seconds, he seemed to make up his mind to at least answer my question, “My name is Jonathan, and this is my sister, Alison.”
They didn’t look like siblings, at least not by birth.
He was all dark to her light. His black skin and tight fade a direct contrast to her pale face and blonde hair.
In lots of ways, she resembled baby pictures I’d seen of Michele.
But I didn’t question it. Families these days came in every shape and size imaginable.
One of them was probably adopted–hell, maybe both–since neither of them resembled the dickhead in the front seat in the slightest.
“Well, Jonathan, Alison, I am so glad you’re here. Welcome to Camp Agonde! What do you say we unload this car, and I’ll show you both to your cabins?”
The boy nodded back at me, unclipping his seatbelt first and silently encouraging his sister to do the same.
While they clambered out of their seats, I went to work opening the car’s trunk and pulling two small suitcases out.
One was blue and the other purple. Neither looked big enough to contain enough clothes for the whole summer, but maybe they’d signed up for weekly laundry services instead of the standard two-week service most kids got.