Dead of Summer

Should I tell him that’s a possibility with his cabin?

“I don’t think I’d like that,” I admit, rolling my shoulders under my purple tee. “Pool.” I point at the obvious pool with its lifeguard stand, and then to the boathouse before naming it as well.

“You guys have horses?” He looks around, his eyes flicking to the boathouse in interest. “We had horses at my last camp.”

“No.” My answer comes out with a sigh. “We used to, back when I first started. But there was an incident, and Mr. Fink got rid of them to put in another fire ring and craft hut instead.” He follows me silently after that, only nodding or commenting quietly as I point out the other dining hall, the sleeping cabins, and two of the larger bathroom buildings.

“Shower there,” I tell him, pointing at the one hidden in the trees on the left. “The hot water is better, and it’s a little quieter. Especially before lights out. Most of the kids don’t like going that far into the woods when they don’t have to.”

“But the counselors value any privacy they can get?” Kayde chuckles, catching up to walk in step with me. He’s wearing that teasing, sweet-edged smile again, and when my eyes meet his, I see something slightly at odds there.

Like maybe he’s not as thrilled about all this as he’s letting on. But, well, I can’t really blame him. This isn’t the world’s most glamorous job, and there’s usually a reason people are camp counselors instead of, like, Google Interns.

For me, it’s because of a lack of direction and lack of cash. Plus a desire to be out of my mom’s house for as much of the summer as I can be. It’s the one season she doesn’t travel for work, and as much as I love her, we’re better when we only see each other a few days of the week, or even less.

We’re too similar to get along perfectly, in my opinion. Though with this session and one more being the only ones left for the year, I’ll have to remember how to live with her and exist in harmony in a month or so.

“Yeah.” I laugh, finally feeling a little more like myself now that the marijuana isn’t quite so heavy in my bloodstream. The halo around his face has faded, and his otherworldly beauty is becoming, well, worldly.

Kayde Lane might be a mortal, just like the rest of us.

I open my mouth to tell him the schedule, since we’re nearing the end of this little tour, when a bloodcurdling scream makes both of us jerk around toward the still-closed swimming pool. At first, all I see is an unfamiliar girl screaming, her hands outstretched toward the pool as she yells something over and over again.

And then I see the splashing.

Kayde is running before I am, though I’m only a step behind as my heart pounds just behind my ribs. His long legs eat up the distance, and we’re the first two to the pool, eyes fixed on the clear, chlorinated water.

Seconds later my heart plummets, and I swear my eyes connect with the boy’s wide, frightened gaze. I watch as he sinks like a stone to the bottom of the pool, his arms and legs flailing independently and doing him no favors. My brain isn’t exactly slow to respond, but I don’t even get the chance to do anything before Kayde jumps into the pool, diving in perfect form so the water encompasses him like an embrace.

He’s at the bottom instantly, wrapping his arms around the boy. In seconds, they’re back to the surface, the little boy gasping for air the moment they break through the surface of the water.

“Stairs?” Kayde pants, though his calmness is impressive while he holds onto a squirming twelve-year-old.

“Here.” My heart still pounds, but I’m stunned at just how fast the whole thing has happened. I trot to the edge of the pool, not hesitating before I descend the stairs as quickly as I can, the water coming up to my waist by the time I’m done. With outstretched arms, I wait for Kayde and his armful, my eyes wider than they should be as I tremble and scan the boy for any sign of distress.

Kayde doesn’t hand him over. Instead, he walks out of the pool with me following, both of us soaked, but my t-shirt is still mostly dry, unlike his. He wastes no time in laying the boy flat on the cement surrounding the pool, though turns him on his side so he can cough up the water still choking him.

“Are you okay?” I kneel beside the boy, my thigh brushing Kayde’s as I place a hand on the camper’s shoulder. He’s shaking, though he looks more humiliated than anything.

“Fell in,” he whispers in between heaves. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kayde murmurs, in that too-friendly voice of his that brings to mind Lassie or a box full of fluffy puppies. “Accidents happen. We just want to make sure you’re okay. What’s your name?”

“Aaron,” the boy whispers, his wide eyes fixed on Kayde. “Aaron Vincent.”

“Well, Aaron Vincent, you’re not in trouble.” Slowly Kayde helps him sit up, looking him over for injuries or any sign that there’s more wrong than shock and his obvious, lingering fear that has the boy’s hands shaking. “But maybe we work on some swimming lessons for you over the next week, hmm?” Kayde looks over at me, his arm brushing my elbow, and turns that winning grin on me. “That girl from earlier was the nurse, right? He’s fine, but maybe we could get her to take a look at him?” It’s less of a suggestion, and more of an order.

But he’s right. And I should’ve thought of it sooner.

Feeling my face flush, I get to my feet with a quick, jerky nod. “Yeah,” I agree, noticing that there’s a small crowd gathered. “I’ll go get Liza.” With quick, measured steps, I move away from him and the pool, mentally mapping out my route as the whispers about Kayde jumping into the water with no hesitation and perfect form travels from camper to camper.

It occurs to me, when I’m jogging down the trail toward the nurse’s cabin, that I’d been completely wrong a few minutes ago.

Kayde isn’t human like the rest of us, as much as it burns my throat to admit it, even to myself. Especially now, with rumors and whispers floating through the air at my back.

To these kids, and probably to my fellow counselors, Kayde is a fucking god.

CHAPTER THREE