Dead of Summer

Instead, I down the entire thing, my eyes never leaving his. It’s not a challenge or a dare. I don’t even know what kind it would be if it was, but still his eyes darken just a touch, and his teeth sink into his full bottom lip as he watches me.

“I have to wrangle my kids,” I tell him kindly, a smile breaking out over my face as I set the mug down. “Before they kill someone.” But the words fall flat. The joke isn’t as funny today as it had been yesterday or the day before.

Because Kayde really might kill someone this week.

“Hey, it’s uh, competitive games day today, right?” he asks, managing to sound like he really doesn’t know. “Our cabins all fight it out for the trophy, yes?”

“Yes,” Liza supplies, getting her tray together and deftly stacking my empty mug and half-empty plate on top of it. “Starting with tug-of-war at two. Then Capture the Flag after. And don’t think you can get out of it,” she adds, grinning. “Counselors with cabins all have to play as well.”

“Oh, right.” Kayde’s eyes never leave mine, and he tips his chin ever-so-slightly as his light brown eyes gleam. “I’m looking forward to playing.”

And somehow, in some way, I’m sure he doesn’t mean whatever games the campers will play this afternoon.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Do I have to tell you not to wrap the rope around your arm again, Summer, or do you think you can withhold yourself from the temptation?” Liza’s voice is crisp while she watches me count the kids in front of me holding onto their handles attached to the thick tug-of-war rope.

“Would it make you feel better to remind me what happens when I do?” I ask, cracking a grin at her that I barely feel. I’m still keyed up, even though it’s been hours since the coffee incident, and while I haven’t seen Kayde much today, it barely helps.

Because he’s still here. Still close enough to do damage, and I can’t decide if not knowing exactly where he is makes me feel better or worse.

Probably worse, somehow. Even though I’d prefer to be on opposite continents from him whenever possible.

“Would it make you feel better for me to remind you how miserable you were last time?” Is Liza’s quick, underhanded response. “Don’t be dumb just to get the victory, Summer. Winning isn’t that important.”

“Sure, sure,” I agree, lifting my hand in dismissal. “Winning is totally not that important, right Melody?” The ten year old has wandered closer to our conversation, hands still firmly fixed around her handle as we wait for the other team to get to their side of the grass where their end of the rope waits.

“If don’t win, we might as well never show our faces to the outside world again,” the girl replied stoically, blinking up at Liza like she’s completely serious.

Liza only looks down at her with something like disbelief on her face, along with a bit of amusement she can’t hide. “You’re a bad influence,” she informs me, one finger pointed in my direction. “Don’t let them do anything stupid either, got it?” I salute her, and when the action reminds me of Kayde from last night, I immediately wish I hadn’t.

“It’s Coyote Cabin,” Melody remarks from right in front of me, though I don’t turn at her words. Instead, I watch—curious more than anything—as Liza joins Kinsley on the ground outside the small area set up for tug-of-war. The cabins not currently competing sit around to observe the battles, and without hesitation, the camp nurse sinks to her knees beside Kinsley, leaning over to say something in my best friend’s ear as she does.

Maybe it’s just me, but their friendship definitely seems to have changed overnight. I’ll have to ask Kinsley about it later, if I get the chance.

“What?” It takes me a moment to process Melody’s words, and I glance across the grass to see that she’s right. Coyote cabin is taking their places across from us, the boys looking varying levels of worn out but still fiercely competitive.

“We beat them and we win, right?” Melody goes on, her fingers tightening in the handle of the rope.

“Yeah, umm.” I kick my brain into high gear and really, really consider wrapping the rope around my arms to get some kind of leverage advantage over Kayde.

But I don’t want another scar, or to lose a few layers of skin on my forearms.

He barely looks at me once. Instead, he patiently helps the boys with their side of the rope and gets everyone situated and in line. It takes a few minutes; the boys are rowdy from their previous wins and look at the girls of my cabin like this will be the easiest tug of war match they’ve played all day.

But my girls are ruthless. It’s just a shame they aren’t feral enough for me to set loose on Kayde so they can tear him apart with their sharp little teeth. Still, it makes for a good fantasy, and when I realize I’m smiling at Kayde and his eyes are on mine with bemusement, I don’t look away.

It’s too pretty of a picture.

Daniel moves to stand in the middle of the grass and looks over both of our teams, a whistle between his lips and sunglasses covering his eyes. He waits for a moment, watching Kayde move to grip the handles of the rope, then looks from the blond counselor to me.

I nod, and Kayde mirrors the gesture, giving Daniel a quick, confident smile as his boys fidget and make faces at my girls.

Daniel’s whistle is sharp, and he springs backward the moment the sound splits through the air, letting go of the flag that’s tied in the exact middle of the rope. My girls waste no time in jerking backward, and with some pleasure I see two of the boys lose their footing and leverage, and get pulled along the grass.

“Pull!” Melody yells, taking over in the leadership role she prefers. She glares at me as well, turning her head to meet my eyes with her burning, narrowed gaze like I might not be pulling with enough fervor.

“Yes ma’am.” I laugh, digging my feet into the grass and jerking backward with a redoubled effort. The flag moves a few inches, getting closer to the line on our side of the grass. All we have to do is get the flag over the spray-painted line in the grass, and we win.