Dead of Summer

For one thing, the golden retriever type isn’t for me. Friendliness oozes out of Kayde’s pores as I scuff my feet in the dirt of the well-worn trail that circles around Otter Hall to take us wherever we need to go. Today, that means everywhere. According to Kayde, he’d been brought directly to Otter Hall by Liza and left there until we’d come along to show him around.

It’s just a shame I hadn’t known about the plan until it was too late. I know why; Kinsley knows me well enough to guess I would’ve weaseled out of being his tour guide. But with no warning, I’m stuck scraping dirt along the ground and trying not to look too put out by this development.

I’m supposed to have half of the afternoon to myself while the campers in my cabin move in. I’m lucky this year, with kids like Melody Carr bunking under my supervision. She’s never caused trouble any of the three times she’s been here in years past, and I know for a fact she’ll keep the other girls from committing murder or bullying the boys too badly.

Today was supposed to be easy.

Though if I’m being honest with myself, part of my attitude is from the marijuana in my veins that is still making me sluggish and relaxed. I’m jumpy, worried that Kayde is going to realize that I’m high and report me or give me some kind of talking to.

But God, he really is just so friendly. Every time a kid comes by, he stops to say hello, and whenever we find another counselor, he wants to introduce himself and be social as hell. For me—who’s never had an extra social bone in her body and barely has enough to get through the day here—he seems to be a fountain of wealth in that area.

I watch him from narrowed eyes as he talks to Darcy Fleming, a female counselor who held Kinsley’s attention for a whole two days last year before Darcy revealed her love of raw steak, mountain climbing, and very well-endowed men. I’d never seen Kins so turned off so quickly. Now, however, I can see her interest in Kayde growing by the second. As I watch, she twists her fingers in front of her shorts and steps a little closer to him, until she’s in his personal space and breaking all the laws of social acceptability.

I wonder what he smells like.

The thought is inappropriate at best. I chase it away as quickly as I can, blinking away the notion to lean in and see if he’s wearing cologne. It’s none of my business, for one. I like boundaries, secondly. And the third thing?

He’s really, absolutely, not my type.

It’s a moment before I realize Darcy is walking away. When I catch Kayde’s eyes, I can barely hold his gaze, even though he’s looking at me like there’s nothing amiss. There’s no suspicion in his gaze. No question, even. He really does remind me of a puppy, and it couldn’t be more of a turnoff to me.

If I’m going to get my summer love on with anyone, it’s going to be someone who calls me out on my stupid looks. Or, better yet, someone who wouldn’t mind pinning me to one of the trees in the camp and not letting me go until my lips are swollen and my eyes are permanently unfocused.

Obviously, that’s not Kayde. Or anyone else here, for that matter.

His smile widens, just a touch, and begrudgingly I have to appreciate his high cheekbones, his dark golden hair, and the scruff that adorns his features. He’s gorgeous, if nothing else. Even I can’t deny that.

“I was falling asleep,” I admit with a yawn, not trying to sound particularly overly-friendly. “Sorry.”

“Must be all that marijuana in your system, hmm?” Kayde all but purrs, his honey-brown eyes dancing. When all I can do is look at him, the smile on his face pulls even wider. “Sorry, uh, was it a secret? The fact you’re high? No offense, Summer, but…” He steps closer with a glance around us, and I notice belatedly that we aren’t exactly alone. Kayde’s voice lowers when he speaks again, and it’s close to what I might call sultry when he says, “It’s so obvious. Even if I couldn't smell it on you when I’m close to you like this. You’re not exactly subtle.”

“I am too.” The words are out before I can stop them, and I pull away from him with my fingers clenched against my palms. “Wait, I mean—I’m not high. I don’t?—”

“If you say so.” He slides away from me, like he’s being polite, and that blinding smile is back on his face, no trace of anything sinister under it. “I won’t tell, okay? Why would I?”

I don’t know. Because I know nothing about him, really. But for all I know, he’s a spy for our boss sent to make sure the counselors Mr. Fink hired are doing their jobs and not slacking off in the staff cabin getting high.

Which is exactly what we do when we don’t have any responsibilities or children to put on leashes.

“Maybe you’re a spy.” Yet again, I can’t keep the words in my mouth, and I wish I could just shove my foot through my lips instead. At least then I wouldn’t be able to say any more ridiculous shit. “That came out wrong. I just meant…” I scuff my feet in the dirt and shake my head. “Never mind. That’s the lake, in case it was unclear in any way.” I flick my fingers toward the beach, and then again at the dock that reaches out over the water.

“Is that an island?” Kayde leans down, squinting to see better through the trees. “In the lake?”

“Yeah. It’s off limits to campers, though. Not that they don’t try, and I’m expecting it from a couple of the cabins this year. Which cabin is your responsibility?” I figure I might as well warn him now, in case he’s got one of the more rebellious groups.

“Uh…” He’s still looking at the island through the trees, but straightens at last to say, “Coyote. That’s mine.”

“You’re—” I start to tell him that he’s in trouble. I know which kids are there only because they’re one of the worst groups possible, and we’d fought with Mr. Fink about splitting them up before they could wreak havoc or set the camp on fire.

It would be polite to tell him who to look out for.

“I’m sure you’re fine,” I say instead, shrugging my shoulders noncommittally. No one warned me my first year. Besides, they won’t kill him. Probably.

Most likely… I think.

“The last camp I worked at wasn’t as nice as this,” Kayde says conversationally, catching up with me on the trail when he’s done looking at the lake. “We had to bunk with the kids to supervise them. Well, we had a door separating our room from theirs, but it was a thin door. You could hear all their shit at three am.”

I grimace at that, shaking my head. While we all have a cabin of ten kids to supervise, our rooms aren’t in the cabin. Instead, all the sleeping cabins have a small room built onto the side, with its own separate entrance. It gives us some bit of privacy, at least. Plus, the walls are thick enough that I wouldn’t hear the kids, even if they were trying to summon the devil.