Olivia
Chapter eight
The next orientation session is held in what looks to be the arts and crafts cabin.
Judging by the creepy manikin torsos lying on the tables, we’re going to review CPR.
The camp requires staff to get certifications in CPR and first aid before starting work, but I guess they want it to be fresh in our minds.
The instructor, a serious-looking woman in khaki pants and a collared red shirt, hurries Gage and me through the door.
I look around the room and see that everyone else is already here. I glance at my watch. We’re right on time.
“Since you two are the last to arrive, you’ll need to work together at this table here.” The instructor points at the table closest to the front of the room—and closest to her.
Gage and I exchange a look heavy with reluctance and hesitation. We chatted fine through lunch, mostly avoiding awkwardness, but can we continue the streak through partnering up for this activity? Doubtful.
The instructor, whose name badge says “Janet,” claps her hands loudly. “Let’s go!”
I lunge for our assigned table, Gage close behind me.
Once there, Janet hands me a sheet of paper, which I reflexively take from her. “Please read that to the class,” she instructs.
Instantly, my heart pounds as my brain simultaneously short-circuits until my thoughts and movements are sluggish.
I stare at the words typed on the paper, but they’re blurring in and out, like my eyes are focusing and then defocusing.
I try to read the first couple of lines, but the words jumble as my brain stutters through them.
All of a sudden, I’m back in fourth grade, in ninth grade, in kids’ Sunday school at church, when the teacher goes around the room having each student take a turn reading part of the text out loud.
I’d count how many classmates were ahead of me to see which paragraph would be mine, and then read it to myself over and over, looking for any words that might trip me up, until it was my turn.
I open my mouth to speak, but my throat is dry, and my tongue is like sandpaper. Even if I could talk, I’m not sure what I would say.
“I’ll read it.” Gage jumps forward, prying the paper out of my clenched fingers.
I sink back and lean against the wall as he reels off some stats about drowning, choking, and asthma attacks among children in Texas. I take a deep breath, and my head clears. Eventually my heart rate gets back to normal.
Being asked to read on the spot out loud to a room full of strangers is a top three nightmare scenario for me, right behind missing a critical goal in an important game and, well, unexpectedly coming face-to-face with Gage Carter. Today is really not my day. Good thing I’m not playing soccer later.
Gage finishes reading and passes the paper back to the instructor. She reminds the class of the basic steps of CPR, and with the attention off us, I catch Gage’s eye and mouth “Thank you.” He tilts his head in acknowledgment.
Before long, Janet directs us to practice CPR on the manikins. She starts her observations on the other end of the classroom, walking slowly from table to table and jumping in with corrections as needed.
I gesture to the dummy. “You want to go first?”
Gage eyes the bald head and half torso on the table in front of us. “Shouldn’t we give him a name and backstory first? I mean, what’s my motivation here?” He grins.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” After my mini freak-out over reading the paper, I don’t want to give anyone more reason to think I’m not smart or serious enough to be here.
“Let’s see. How about Stan da Manikin?” He snaps his fingers. “No, I know! Manikin Skywalker.”
I bite back a smile. “He definitely has the body for it, but I’m not sure we’re certified to treat lava burns.”
Gage snorts. “Come on, Olivia. If ever any of the kids gets the high ground over another, we need to know how to handle it.”
I shake my head, but I can’t keep a wide smile from taking over my face. Same old Gage. Too much charisma for his own good.
“I’ve always loved your smile,” Gage lets slip.
My smile drops, and I whip my head around to look at him.
His pale-blue eyes widen as if he didn’t mean to admit that.
He looks entirely too serious and entirely too delicious, with messy strands of his sandy blond hair sticking out from under his backward baseball cap, to be saying things like that.
“Gage,” I warn.
He shrugs, then turns his attention back to Manikin Skywalker. “Sorry,” he murmurs.
“Let’s focus on reviewing CPR.”
Janet bustles over to us at that moment. “How’s it going over here?” she asks.
Oh, you know, awkward, painful, bewildering. “Fine,” I answer.
We stay on task the rest of the class, hesitantly working around each other while avoiding unnecessary conversation or touching.
When the session is over, we have a break before dinner, so I duck out of the room before Gage can try to make more awkward conversation.
I walk to the main office and drive my car to the cabin that will be my home for the next three months. I open the trunk of the car and lug my duffel bag and rolling suitcase up the stairs of the front stoop and through the screen door. I dump my bags in the entryway and look around.
I’m not a cabin counselor, so rather than staying with a group of kids, my small cabin houses me and one other staff member.
Each side of the cabin has a bunk bed and a small dresser.
There’s no closet, but when I open the door on the back wall, I find a bathroom with a toilet, a pedestal sink, and a tiny shower stall hidden behind a dull green plastic curtain.
I haven’t met my roommate yet, but her side of the cabin tells me a little about her personality.
A gorgeous blue-and-yellow quilt adorns the bottom bed of the bunk, with the top acting as a storage unit crammed with two large purple suitcases and a set of blank, shrink-wrapped painting canvases.
On top of the dresser is an assortment of colorful paint containers, a mason jar with a dozen or so wooden paintbrush handles sticking out of it, and a sparkly pink shower caddy filled with bottles.
I move my luggage to my side of the cabin and start unpacking.
The screen door creaks open and slams shut.
I look up to see a Black woman with mahogany skin, light brown eyes, and dark hair slicked back into a ponytail.
Her bright orange patterned tunic is tucked into cut-off denim shorts.
I remember seeing this woman in the orientation classes today, usually partnered up with a slim guy with dark brown hair and board shorts.
“Hi!” I greet her brightly.
“Hey! You must be Delaney. I’m Nina.” She eyes me, as if sizing me up.
I take a step toward her and extend my hand. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, Nina.”
“Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier today during the orientation sessions.” Nina raises her eyebrows. “It looked like you already made a friend, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
My cheeks heat. “Oh, no. That’s just Gage. We know each other from back home.”
She crosses her arms. “That’s what Brynn said.”
I shift my gaze behind her searching for a subject change. I gesture to the art supplies. “Are you an artist?”
Her face brightens. “Yes! During the school year, I’m an elementary school art teacher in San Antonio with an Etsy shop on the side. I’m the craft counselor here. My second summer. It’s such a fun summer job.”
“Oh, cool. It’s my first time here, or any camp that’s not centered around soccer.” I shrug.
Nina chuckles. “Fair warning, my boyfriend works here, too, so you won’t see me around much on weekends. They won’t let us share a cabin because we’re not married, even though we live together at home.” She rolls her eyes. “Rocky’s the camp lifeguard. He’s bunking with Jake, the nature counselor.”
Between arriving late at camp and being a little preoccupied that Gage is here, I haven’t been great about introducing myself to my coworkers today.
I met Brynn, of course, and now Nina, but I barely noticed the other staff members in the orientation sessions today.
“I guess I missed all the introductions yesterday, huh?”
She waves away my concern. “You’ll meet everyone tonight.
After dinner, Linda has an ice-breaker activity planned.
” Nina walks toward the bathroom as she continues talking to me over her shoulder.
“You should move your car, though, if you’re all unloaded.
If you keep following this dirt road past the lake, you’ll find the staff parking lot near Linda’s cottage. ”
“Thanks.” I wave to Nina and grab my keys.
I’m not sure what to think about my roommate.
She seems nice but also like she’s not really looking to be friends.
I’m sure we’ll get along in the cabin, but I probably need to look elsewhere to find a buddy for the summer.
That will be my focus tonight at dinner and at the activity afterward.
I’ll put Gage out of my mind and make friends.
Fun, cool Delaney has always been good at that.