Dead of Summer

CHAPTER ONE

“It’s going to be different this year.” I watch lazily as Kinsley takes a long draw of the vape she never goes anywhere without, then take it when she offers it to me. Her lazy smile is enough for me to know it isn’t some of her low-key shit, and I’m a little more careful than usual as I suck in a pull from the container.

“How’s that?” I ask, drawing one knee up to my chest and toss it back her way. “You going to fulfill your spiciest, romantic dreams with Liza this year?” Liza, the gorgeous camp nurse who has never, not once, given my friend more than a raging crush on her by just breathing and looking pretty.

Kins’ smile widens. “Absolutely. And we’re going to get you some summer love too. How’s that sound?” Her tolerance is much higher than mine, and she breathes in from the vape one more time before stuffing it in the pocket of her camp-issued shorts. That, plus the bright purple t-shirt with its gaudy white letters printed on the front, proclaim her and I both as camp counselors for Camp Crestview.

I’ve always thought our outfits feel too eighties. I’m sure some parents think so, and we’re lucky the kids are too young to remember any campy summer movies from that time period. Otherwise, they’d do worse than turn a deaf ear to our directions or kick us in the shins.

“Summer love?” I snort. “What are we, in some cheesy romance movie? Will we both fall in love and go home, only to think we’ll never see our new loves again?”

“Yep.” Kinsley gets to her feet, pulling her hair back into a high ponytail before dragging me up off the floor of the counselor building. We’re definitely not supposed to be smoking anywhere on camp grounds, but this is the safest place to do it. Here, at least, the kids know they can’t enter, so we’re left alone, for the most part. And we’re certainly not the only ones who’ve brought what our boss would label ‘contraband’ to camp. “And then that’s when act two starts, and our summer flings show up at our high school.”

“Shame we aren’t in high school anymore,” I remark offhandedly. “Do we need to, I don’t know”—I shoulder the door open, and when she steps out behind me to let it close, I hear it click locked once more—“form a gang? With matching jackets?”

A voice calls out to both of us, prompting us to glance up toward the drop off area. It’s packed with parents giving their kids a last hug, or trying to shoo them away from the car so their mom or dad can leave and have a ten day break from their little gremlins.

Working as a camp counselor has been eye-opening when it comes to kids.

Namely, how much I don’t want any of my own.

A woman with dark red hair and a heavily made-up face smiles at both of us as she waves fervently from across the gravel parking lot. Mrs. Stern, in her too-fancy outfit and her staggeringly expensive car, has made an effort to say hi to us for the past three years, ever since Kinsley and I took this job for some extra money in the summer.

“Hi Mrs. Stern!” Kinsley yells back, cupping her hands over her mouth. “We’ll take care of Jonah!” The twelve-year-old in question makes a face where his mother can’t see, and hoists his duffel bag higher over his shoulder. He might like camp, but he’s never a fan of the scenes his mother likes to make. I’m pretty sure he comes here to get a break from her.

“I was wondering if the usual suspects were going to show up,” I mutter, eyeing another kid that tried pushing me into the lake last year. He grins at me, showing off a missing front tooth. I fight the urge to flip him off, and instead just wave and motion that I’m watching him.

He only laughs and runs off with his friends toward whatever cabin they’ve been assigned.

“You heard about Kevin, right?” Kinsley’s voice dips lower, so that no one can hear us, and we both watch as Mrs. Stern wrangles Jonah to give him one last hug before she leaves. Half of the reason the drop off point is so full is because she won’t leave and her Escalade is blocking more than three other cars combined.

But like hell are we going to say anything like that to her. She’s probably rich enough to ruin our lives if she wanted to.

“No?” My brows rise and I look at her, suddenly interested. Whatever love she has for gossip cannot be matched by my obsession with it. “Don’t leave me like this. I’ll die?—”

“He has the little c,” Kinsley informs me soberly, leaving me to wonder, for a moment, what the little c is.

The big C is cancer, right? So the little c is?—

“Kevin Roy has Chlamydia?!” Two nearby campers turn to look at us, and both of us turn beaming smiles on the girls until they go away.

“Say it louder.” She lifts a brow. “I don't think Mrs. Stern heard you.” I only grimace as Jonah Stern runs past me, and we give his mother one last wave before she finally drives away.

It’s our turn to leave as well, since we aren’t responsible for drop offs. We’re just supposed to be walking around, offering the kids any help if they need it. With sixty of them and only ten of us, today is one of the worst in terms of how hectic camp will be for these next ten days. At least until pickup, anyway.

“So. Summer love. I have a target.”

“Liza,” I fill in as we walk, nodding. A few kids from last year greet us, and we put on our happy, kid-appropriate faces as we ask them how their summers have been going before once again ending up on our own. The camp is larger than the first I worked at, when I was barely out of high school four years ago. And it’s a bit of a hike to the pool that’s not yet open for this round of campers. “Any specific plans?”

“But more importantly, and why I bring up Kevin, is because I have graciously provided you a target as well.”

I blink at this information, eyes narrowing in thought. “Can I…pass?”

“No.”

“Then I thank you, great friend.” I give her a mocking bow before adding, “Who, exactly? No matter how many times you steal my blankets or make me nachos, I’m not into women. And I’ll just die alone before I step foot near Alec or Daniel.” Especially Daniel, though that part goes without saying.

“I’m not that bad of a friend.” She sounds confident enough to make me nervous, and I frown her way as we check to ensure no one opened the deck house door and slipped into the pool area on drop off day. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, and I don’t feel like playing CPR simulator again this year for a child who’s inevitably going to cough dirty, chlorinated water into my mouth. “Like I was saying about absentee-Kevin, we got a replacement. A replacement who, I think, makes a viable new target for your summer love quest.”