4. Chase
CHAPTER FOUR
CHASE
T he fresh air breezes into the wide-open French doors of my bottom floor bedroom while I enjoy the view from the deck. As I take in the calm, waves crash against the cliff. This place is amazing, perfectly peaceful. I’ll enjoy some much-needed relaxation after the way I powered through my last semester before graduation.
The Bluffs Estates is a set of four coastal style beach houses curved into a cul-de-sac overlooking the Pacific. The property owner rents the houses for the summer, and between my family and Hunter’s, we’ve rented out three of them. My parents and sisters will stay in one, Hunter’s dad and sister in another, and Hunter and I in the third. The fourth, as far as I know, is still vacant.
Hunter snagged a room upstairs, and the heavy bass thumping from his music rattles the windows as I come back inside to unpack. I’m transferring clothes from my suitcase into the drawers lining the wall when my phone rings.
“Hey, Dad,” I answer, pressing the video icon and flopping on the bed.
“Hey, kid! You two make it in okay?”
“Yep, just getting settled into the rental now. ”
“Great. I found out I have to fly to New York for a week to speak at a conference, and then to Chicago for another the following week. Your mom and sisters will get there tomorrow evening. Make sure they get settled in for me, okay?”
“Sure, Dad, no problem,” I assure him.
“Enjoy this summer, Chase. You worked hard at Gradford, and I’m proud of you.”
“Aww, thanks, Dad. I’m proud of you too!” I tease.
“Hey, at least someone is,” he says with a wink and a smile. “I’ve got to run to the office, but I’ll check in on you tomorrow. I love you, kid.”
“Love you too, Dad,” I say, waving as he clicks off the video. Sometimes, looking at him can feel a little weird, like I’m seeing myself in twenty years. We definitely look like father and son, except for his cropped hair and brown eyes.
My parents, Russell and Christine Wilmington, were high school sweethearts, and they strive to embody a close-knit family unit. We have game nights, annual vacations, and Sunday dinners. Showing up for one another comes naturally, so Dad asking me to help Mom and my sisters get settled really is unnecessary. It’s something I’d do anyway.
I move back to my open suitcase and finish loading clothes into the dresser when my phone rings again. I don’t recognize the number, and my heart skips a beat, remembering the bold message I left for the captivating waitress at the diner.
“This is Chase,” I answer with a tentative edge to my voice.
“Hi! This is Claire Roberts, director at Camp Bender. Have you, by chance, made it into town yet?” she asks sheepishly.
“Oh, hi! Yeah, I got here a few hours ago.”
“Good, good! I have a big ask… One of our certified camp counselors broke their wrist last week and won’t make it to the first session of camp…doctor’s orders.”
“I hope they’re okay,” I reply, still wondering what the question is.
“They should be right as rain for the second session, but I need a fill-in for the entire first session. Looking at the volunteer list we have for the summer, you meet the qualifications to become a certified counselor.”
I take a beat, considering whether I want to dedicate an additional three weeks of my summer vacation to this. “What all would I need to do to become certified?” I ask.
“Well, since you already submitted your background check, you would just need to join our other counselors for first aid and CPR certification starting tomorrow at the youth center. Then on-site training up at Camp Bender next week. The kids for session one will show up the week after that, and then week two campers would be your last group. It will fly by.” She speeds through her spiel like she’s worried I’m about to turn her down.
“That sounds reasonable…”
“Oh, and you’d have weekends between camping groups all to yourself back in town.”
My reasoning for signing up to volunteer this summer was to give back to the local community. Changing my status to camp counselor would come with a paycheck I don’t need, defeating my sole purpose for volunteering in the first place. “I’d love to help you out, under one condition.”
“Okay… I’ll do what I can. What’s your condition?”
“Would it be possible to donate my wages to a scholarship fund for campers who need it? Anonymously?” I pull at a loose thread on my jeans, feeling the unease about money talk creep into my gut.
“That’s…very generous of you. Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I was planning on volunteering anyway, so this feels like a good way to keep that spirit and give back.”
“Oh, Chase, what a great idea. I can definitely do that, but you’re sure you want to remain anonymous? We usually list donors on the camp website.”
“Yeah, knowing a couple more kids will be able to experience camp is recognition enough.”
“Well, if you’re sure… Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver!” Sh e lets out a relieved breath as a keyboard clacks in the background. “I’ll send you the counselor informational email. See you tomorrow!”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.” I hang up the phone and toss it on the bed behind me.
“Already roped yourself into a philanthropic venture, huh?” Hunter shakes his head from the doorway. He pumps his arm into the air like a superhero. “Chase to the rescue!”
“It’s called helping.” I grab the leather toiletry bag out of my suitcase and toss it on the bed. Wherever we go for summer vacations, I like to find some kind of cause to help with. Giving back is fun for me, but I prefer to really get in there and experience things instead of relying on monetary donations. Hunter doesn’t share the sentiment and likes to give me a hard time about saving the world . “The director for Camp Bender called and needed a last-minute camp counselor. It’s for the kids, and we were going to volunteer anyway—so why not?”
“You’re wasting half your summer working with annoying little kids. That’s why not. You just graduated after busting your ass to get dual degrees. This is your last summer of freedom.”
School wasn’t hard for me, so I wouldn’t call it busting my ass . But there were plenty of nights I wished I could have gone out and let loose instead of staying in to study. Enrolling in Gradford University’s dual degree program seemed like the best solution to get where I wanted to be at EdTechU. But by the end, my motivation dragged, and the last few months were some of my hardest. I did it though, getting both a bachelor’s degree in business management and a master’s in information systems. This summer is supposed to be all about enjoyment and relaxation before diving into the corporate sphere. Serving others is something I enjoy.
“It’s not a waste if I like doing it.” I move back to the dresser with the last of my clothes.
Hunter’s eyes widen. “Does this mean I have to go early too? ”
“Nope.” I close the top dresser drawer and zip up my suitcase. “Your volunteering schedule hasn’t changed.”
“I’m only doing it for that stupid service-learning credit Gradford makes us earn before graduation.”
“Yeah, and if you wouldn’t have put it off until your last year, you could’ve had your pick of organizations to volunteer with.” I tuck my empty suitcase into the closet and lean against the wall next to him.
“Why do it now when I can do it later?” he jokes.
That’s probably the biggest difference between us. Hunter’s spontaneous, impulsive, flighty. Procrastination is his middle name, and school is not his friend. I plan, calculate, and scrutinize. I don’t like leaving a lot of things to chance. If I can figure out a strategy beforehand, I almost always will, or persist until I find a solution.
“I guess this will give you a good chance to explore Fort Bender. Maybe hit up the puff-puff train while I’m busy at camp.”
“I’ll need a good puff-puff to make it through the summer in this boring-ass town. Why did my dad pick this place? Make it make sense, bruh.”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem so bad to me.” I shrug, remembering the pretty waitress at the diner. I think if I could spend a little more time around her this summer, it will be anything but boring.