Dead of Summer

“Wait,” he sighs against my hair, holding onto me by my pocket. “I didn’t mean to piss you off, baby girl. Stop taking things so personally.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me where you were,” I can’t help but challenge, heat rising to my cheeks. It’s not from embarrassment this time, though. It’s irritation and frustration. I hate when he talks to me like this. No matter the context.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. But keep asking me,” my psychopath invites with heady enthusiasm. “Love how mad me saying no gets you. Will you slap me next? Or just stare at me like that and hope I feel bad?”

“I will sacrifice mosquitos to the forest god daily in hopes you feel like shit,” I promise him between clenched teeth. “And maybe, in ten years or so, he’ll take pity on me and you’ll feel a twinge of regret for something.”

“Probably not.” Kayde chuckles, releasing me. “But keep trying, babe.”

There it is again. Babe. An affectionate nickname, like we’re more than enemies who fuck because of a deal I made. “My girls are going to destroy your boys at the talent show,” is the only thing I can think to say, and I know how lame it is the moment the words leave my mouth.

Kayde grimaces. “Yeah, probably. Their little demonstration is, umm…not that inspiring. But we’ll see.” He gives a huff and glances towards the boys with something like fondness on his face, though I know it’s all for show.

After all, he was prepared to murder them a week ago. But I don’t remark on that. Instead I reach up, touching the necklaces and running my fingers along them before pulling one off of my neck—a green one—and slipping it over Kayde’s head instead. “Show some solidarity,” I tell him, reaching into my pocket for one of my glow sticks and pressing it into his hand. “Cheer for them no matter how much they suck. It…it’ll mean a lot, okay?” I avert my eyes from his face, insecure at how he’s looking at me as if he’s never seen me before. “Even if you don’t like them, you can pretend for the night.”

“I suppose,” Kayde murmurs, catching my fingers before I can pull away. “But only because you look so cute when you blush like that.”

I don’t dignify that with a response. I pull my hand away and turn around to find where my campers have gone before following after them, needing to make sure for a twelfth time that they aren’t about to burn down the campground or murder one of Daniel’s boys.

Please, God, I think, crossing my fingers. Don’t let them be planning a magic show.

Of course, my girls have planned a magic show.

Melody is even dressed for it, in a sparkly shirt and black leggings. They’ve made a hat for her out of construction paper, and I can’t help but feel impressed at their creativity in that and the painted stick she’s using as a wand.

And at first, things mostly go well. They don’t threaten anyone. Melody’s card tricks actually work, surprising their fellow campers, and her ‘assistants’ are as flawless as a bunch of twelve-year-olds armed with craft supplies can be.

But I sit on my log beside Kinsley and keep my fingers crossed anyway, knowing how quickly this can go from innocent, to something worse when Melody is involved.

“And for my final set of tricks,” she announces with a flourish, causing me to cross my fingers even harder.

Please, God, don’t let her announce that she’s sawing someone in half, I beg, my eyes fixed on her in front of the snapping fire. Apart from us, Coyote cabin is the only one to not have gone yet. And unless they’re truly spectacular, I think my girls have a pretty good chance of winning. At least, if this last trick isn’t a giant failure. The other kids would never let them live that down, and a bad finale will tank whatever good will they gained during the rest of their little magic show.

Please don’t saw someone in half, I beg again, still watching Melody with rapt attention. Anything but that, kid.

“I need a volunteer.” The words make me wince in trepidation, and in a move of self sacrifice, I throw my hand up from my spot in the front row, eyes fixed on Melody as she looks around the log seats with dramatic flair. She narrows her eyes, making a show of looking as about ten kids try not to jump out of their seats in their efforts to get noticed by her.

Kayde taps my shoulder from his spot too close behind me, and without waiting for me to acknowledge him, leans forward to whisper in my ear, “What are you doing? Why are you volunteering?”

“Because I’m scared she’s going to saw someone in half. Only, it won’t be a magic trick,” I hiss, refusing to underestimate Melody or her ability to do something insane. Do I think she’s managed to find and obtain a saw somewhere on the grounds of Camp Crestview? Absolutely not. No way in hell.

Do I think if she wanted to, she and the other girls of my cabin could make a saw out of like a rubber band, a leaf, and a crushing desire for bloodlust? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Oh.” Kayde actually sounds mollified; like my explanation makes total sense. “Yeah, okay. That tracks.” He settles back, but I don’t turn and look at him. I’m still transfixed on Melody, trying to glare her into picking me for her demonstration.

She sees me. I know she sees me, though her eyes skim right over me as she goes on tiptoe. “You!” She jabs her finger at me, then lifts it, to make sure I know it’s not me she’s asking to be her volunteer.

Shit. I know Daniel’s cabin is somewhere behind me, and I don’t want to have to make a scene. No, she’s probably not going to saw one of them in half literally. But she could embarrass or humiliate anyone if she puts her mind to it. Especially in front of the rest of Camp?—

Kayde brushes by, stepping over my log and glancing down at my surprised face to wink at me. My mouth falls open, but at least I don’t have to worry about Melody hurting or humiliating him. He turns his grin on Melody as he stands next to her, hands shoved in his pockets as she announces she’ll be using him for a few different tricks to prove to her audience they’re all real. Naturally, her ‘assistants’ are ready with whatever she needs, and I settle back to watch, at ease now that I know we’re not in danger of a fight.

Melody and my other campers take Kayde through three card tricks, a disappearing coin trick, and a trick where an egg is squeezed but not broken. All in all, it’s pretty tame. Though I can’t help but be begrudgingly grateful that Kayde plays along with her instead of acting like all of it is below him.

“Thank you so much again for being a volunteer!” Melody’s voice carries, and I’m sure if she wanted to, she could be heard from across the lake. She takes her magician hat, which is still somehow held together by tape and sheer will, and fishes around in it dramatically, like she’s Mary Poppins.

“Before you go, we’ve got something for you to take back to our counselor, since you were such a good sport.” Melody pulls her arm back with a dramatic flourish, and shows in her hand a slightly crumpled but still manageable bouquet of wildflowers that look like they were picked today.

Then her words register in my head, and my face falls. Kinsley elbows me in the side, but all I can do is watch Kayde, confused and utterly at a loss.