18. Eighteen
Eighteen
Toni
The All-Along Marathon came and went Friday afternoon in a complete blur.
Memories of Holly plagued me all the way through it, and I was just grateful that Abbi had the grace to station me far away from the boat docks and kayaks.
I hadn’t been near the boats since last summer, and I doubted I would ever be able to set foot in a kayak again without seeing that little girl’s collapsed, breathless body.
I had to wonder if it was the same for Xav.
After my interaction with Stephanie, we’d been keeping our distance, pressing pause on our nightly visits until after Parent’s Day.
So, not only was I now horny as hell, I was also missing him like crazy.
Without his grounding presence or loving touches, it felt like Francis and my father were winning, while I didn’t even know what game we were playing.
When the last runner finished my obstacle, I tidied up the remnants of all the campfires as quickly as I could before heading to the Centre Circle, where the race would end.
There was already a crowd gathered. Abbi and Cole each held one end of a long ribbon.
It was designed to tear when the winner ran through it, and then they would reset it for each successive runner after that until the very last person crossed the finish line.
The whole camp would stay, cheering each and every competitor, regardless of their standing, then we’d head inside the dining hall where the winners in each age bracket would get a chance to hold the trophy and be recognized.
Not that I cared who won, but it was hard not to be swept up in the excitement of the teeming crowd as they began to whoop and holler at the signs of the first runner coming up the path.
I wasn’t watching the runner though, too distracted by Xavier, his hazel eyes holding me from the other side of the crowd, the heat in them sending pulses of desire and flashes of our encounter in the shower through my head.
Only to have those impulses ruined by goosebumps of fear and a horrific sixth sense of another set of eyes was watching us.
Sure enough, over Xavier's shoulder, was a pair that matched my own.
Francis’ eyes were on fire too, but rather than the love and lust I saw in Xav’s, they raged with anger that spelled disaster for someone.
Probably me. When my focus darted from my boyfriend to my brother, the deranged smile he seemed to save just for me curled across his lips.
I was only vaguely aware when the winner crossed the finish line.
It was a girl, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her, that much I could tell.
But I was too focused on an exit strategy that would get me out of the crowd, and away from Francis as fast as possible.
On instinct, I began to retreat, stepping backwards and trying to avoid slipping on the gravel of the road.
My brother, noticing the movement, shoved Xavier out of his way and maneuvered his gorilla-esque arms to move kids and other staff, too.
The crowd was my saving grace. Every last person in the whole camp was crammed into the Centre Circle at that moment, so even as Francis elbowed kids out of his way, every space he created quickly filled back in with more bodies.
Meanwhile, I was nearing the fringes of the Circle and the crowd with the whole beach and activities field at my back.
Plenty of space to run, sure, but more open and exposed than I would have wished.
I bounced on my toes, as I finally stepped far enough away from the hoard of kids, ready to spin and bolt without knocking anyone over.
My stare stayed focused on Francis who was getting ever closer, but once I was free of the crowd and the constant buzzing of two hundred people, my other senses caught up to the world around me and I heard it.
One loud sniffle, unmistakable and coming from the very same bushes I’d hid in last summer myself.
There was someone, likely a camper, in there crying.
Conveniently, I knew from experience that those thorny bushes made for a damn good hiding spot, too.
Before I could help whoever was crying I had to help myself.
So I did exactly what Francis expected I would, I ran.
Only, instead of bolting for my cabin in the Village or some hiding spot in the faraway forest, I ran just far enough.
Down the girls’ cabin line, tucked between the first two cabins, Daisy and Tulip, was a teeny, tiny path.
A path so overgrown with Hawthorn bushes, covered in sharp thorns, that I was able to hide in relative safety, as Francis prowled past, hissing my name under his breath and calling out for me in his hoarse voice, “Sister. Oh, my dear sister. Come out, come out. I need to talk to you.”
Once the sound of his heavy breathing and pounding shoes retreated, I poked my head out.
With the cheers of the crowd still echoing in the distance and the cabin line still deserted, it took only seconds to double back.
As I got closer, again, to the Section Office, I listened intently for the sniffling sounds I’d heard before.
It was a small building, a little ten-foot by ten-foot square, which was exposed to the main road on three sides, so whoever was crying shouldn’t have been too hard to spot.
The fact that I couldn’t see anyone, meant there was only one place they could be.
I traced my hand over the rough stained timber as I inched my way between the exterior wall and the very same brambles I’d hidden in last summer.
Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, there was the small clearing, barely large enough for two adults to stand side by side, but the girl was so small that she hardly seemed to take up any space.
She was curled into a ball, her knees tucked right up against her, and her yellow-blonde hair covering her face.
Other than the sound, the only clues she was sobbing were the quick pops of hiccups and her shaking shoulders.
I didn’t want to frighten her, so, as softly as possible, I asked, “Are you okay?”
Her head sprang up fast as anything and her eyes went wide like a deer who’d been spooked, but she didn’t utter a peep.
I gave her a soft smile. People always say it’s ‘fight or flight’, but really it’s ’fight, flight, freeze, or fawn’.
I tended to freeze. The first hint of fear, and my whole body locked up.
So, I recognized the reaction. I tried again, “I’m Toni,” I gestured to myself, “I just want to help. Are you okay?”
She sniffled and a few more tears snuck loose, running down her pink cheeks. She shook her head.
“No, you’re not okay?” I asked to confirm.
She nodded this time.
“Can I come a bit closer?”
Another nod, so, a few baby steps and I was able to kneel down beside her.
“What’s your name?”
Her answer was so quiet, it was hard to distinguish from a breath, but I took a gamble, “Alison?” Another nod.
Even the loudest, most outgoing kid can be shy in the right circumstances, but in general, using their name can help ground them.
It was something Michele always talked about in her regular pre-camp session on identifying vulnerable kids.
“Hi Alison, like I said, I’m Toni. Do you want to tell me what you’re doing back here all by yourself.”
Back to headshaking. Shit.
“I promise, you won’t be in trouble. I just want to help.”
The girl looked up at me, her eyes still glossy and wary, but the look of panic had dimmed. She bit her lip, scrunched up her face and then, in that same small voice whispered, “My brother. I lost my brother.”
“You lost your brother?” Nod.
“Where? Here?” My mind raced thinking there might be a camper lost somewhere after the marathon. The images of Holly I’d only just managed to put to rest, leapt back to the forefront of my mind. “Did you lose him during the race?”
She tried to answer, but all she croaked out was a sob, and she was right back to the shaking, terrified girl I’d first stumbled upon.
My heart cracked open watching her cry. But because I’m not as good at this comforting stuff as Abbi or Mich, all I managed was some odd stuttering before a shout cut across my feeble attempts to help this poor girl.
“Ali!”
A little boy’s voice screamed from nearby. For the first time in our brief interaction, colour flooded back into the girl’s face, and she cried out in return, “Jonathan?!”
Although, after so many tears, her voice barely carried, making it one of the meekest shouts I’d ever heard.
Not that it mattered, because within seconds, a black boy no older than twelve burst through the bushes and into our hiding spot.
Alison breathed a desperate sigh of relief as she repeated his name, “Jonathan.” Relief flooded through me in turn, fears of another lost kid set aside.
“Ali,” he prayed her name and rushed towards her without a second thought.
Without considering that attached to him, holding his small hand was a much bigger one.
Cole’s brown hair was laced with stray leaves and the small red dots on his forearms made it clear that, despite his height and width, he’d lost the battle with the brambles.
But he was smiling. His real smile. The ten-year-old, happy little boy smile I could still picture so clearly shone across his face as he watched the kids hug.
The second he noticed me, huddled so close to Alison, that happy smile disintegrated.
“What are you doing here?” It wasn’t outright accusatory but it wasn’t exactly a polite question, either. So, I straightened my back to answer.
“I heard Alison crying back here,” I gestured to where I had found her huddled in a ball not that long ago.
I half expected Cole to start shouting and name-calling right then and there, or maybe worse, try to strangle me the way he’d done last summer.
After Holly, and then taking his fist to the face, I didn’t have a lot of faith in Cole’s ability to manage his anger, but this time he did.
The only sign of it was a thin-lipped grimace before his attention, and mine, shifted back to the two kids still embracing at our sides.
They clung to each other in that way that only scared children do.
In Jonathan’s arms, Alison’s body heaved as she whispered the fears she’d refused to reveal to me into his chest.
The boy mumbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d be gone so long.” into her hair before looking back to Cole and I.
Cole chimed in, “Jonathan has been looking for you since he finished the race. I told him I’d help track you down.”
The two kids squeezed each other again, and the boy asked, “Can I take her back to Iris?” She was one of Bella’s girls.
Cole nodded and the boy nodded back in that strange and silent masculine form of communication I’d watched the boys do hundreds of times when we were pre-teens but never understood.
Jonathan released his hold, but only so he could slide his small hand into her even smaller one.
When he did, Alison’s whole posture relaxed, and though her pale face was still puffy from all the crying, for the first time I saw her smile as her brother led her from the small clearing.
It was only once the two of them were gone, the sounds of the footsteps no longer audible, that I realized I was completely alone with Cole Michaels for the first time in six years.
Being alone with Cole when I was fifteen always felt like a special privilege.
He’d tuck me under his broad shoulders–even then, they were wide from all the training his dad subjected him to–and tell me all about his day or ask me about mine or remind me of something stupid he’d watched Brennon do at breakfast and we’d both laugh.
Now, in the present, we no longer knew how to be around each other. Without outright hating me, without flogging his anger out, there was only a crystalline quiet begging to be shattered.
It was. Just not by Cole or I.
Michele burst through the bushes in a panic, her normally styled ponytail looking a bit worse for wear and her eyes frantic as she asked, “Toni! Have you seen-”
Her voice stalled as her eyes landed on Cole, who in turn, looked straight at the ground.
He pretended to kick rocks, like he was a junior camper caught doing something naughty.
So Michele looked at me instead. Not that I had any answers for whatever was going on or why Cole was even still standing there. Or why I was still breathing.
Quick as ever, it only took Mich a beat to re-centre herself. She’d come traipsing back here for a reason, after all.
“A girl from Bells’ cabin is missing.”
Cole blinked, his ex’s words drawing him back to reality.
“Alison?” He asked.
Michele was stunned for a second, “Y-yes.”
“Toni found her,” Cole replied. My mouth, however, hung open in shock. He wasn’t being derisive or cruel, he was just giving me credit. For something I hadn’t even known I was doing. Michele’s confusion must have met its match on my own face before I spluttered, “I…uh…um, I heard crying back here.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, Mich,” Cole consoled, “She was just worried about her stepbrother after the race. But he was with me, and now, he’s escorting his sister back to Girls’ camp.”
She exhaled, “Bells was so worried.”
Cole flinched at something, maybe a bug bite or one of the increasingly red welts developing on his arms, but he recovered just as quickly before muttering some excuse about needing to check on the boys’ cabins before bed and ambled off as quick as he could in that direction.
In the chaos of hiding from Francis and finding Alison, I hadn’t thought about the time. Then, I’d been too busy holding my breath around Cole to notice the orange cast of the light in the gaps in the bushes.
I took Michele’s hand, “Let’s go check on Bells and her girls, huh?”
Michele looked guiltily at where Cole had just stalked off, shaking her head before offering me a weak smile and squeezing my hand in return.
Together, we walked out from behind the Section Office.
Mich’s panic all but gone as she stalked about the plans for Parent’s Day the following morning.
I listened as attentively as I could, not without casting one last look back over my shoulder.
I could have sworn, in the last rays of the day, I saw the shadows of a boy and girl, as young as Alison was now, chasing one another in a loop they thought would never end. Memory was a real bitch sometimes.