Dead of Summer

“You don’t ruffle my feathers like you do hers,” Shawn admits with a chuckle. “So I don’t need this bravado of yours. Like I said”—he tips his head to the side, toward the cabins and the rest of the camp—“Kinsley is looking for you. Think she wants your help with drop off.”

He’s so…strange. That’s the best I can really do in my mind, given my feelings for Shawn. But he’s right that I did promise to help Kinsley, though I hadn’t needed him to remind me. If anything, he’s only delayed me that much more.

“Whatever,” I mutter, shaking my head and walking past him. “See you later, I guess.” Or never, is what I would wish for if I had that option. But I have one more week of Shawn and Darcy before the summer is over.

One more week before I can figure out what the hell I’m going to do with the rest of my year.

The rest of my life.

The rest of whatever.

The trip back to the drop off area isn’t long., but I jog to cut down on time, sweat prickling at the back of my neck as the sun peeks between the trees. Then, finally, beats down on my back with all the force of late-July summer.

I’m late, I suppose, but only by a few minutes. A few cars are in the loop, dropping off a couple of kids I don’t recognize. Kins is there already, talking to their parents and doing her best to look inviting, friendly, and responsible.

Another car pulls up and I take it, soon falling into a cycle of greeting parents, then greeting kids and waving them off with the more nervous kids. I recognize a few of the campers, though not many, and greet them just as happily as I do the new kids.

Even if a few of them did try to break into Bobcat Cabin last year to terrorize some other boys. Though without a criminal mastermind, like Melody, at the helm, they hadn’t exactly gotten very far.

The first hour crawls by, just as I knew it would, with me only being able to exchange a few quick words with Kinsley as kids filter in. The drop offs slow down about midway through, but pick up again as the clock ticks closer to noon. It’s always this way. Most of the time, parents either get here right at ten am on the dot, or closer to noon, if not a few minutes after.

I’m used to it, and I’ve learned to predict when any ‘rushes’ will be. Though, with only about 50 kids max in each camp session, it’s not like there are lines and lines of cars with parents begging to get their kids out of the front seat so they can drive away for a week of peace.

Sure enough, an influx of cars arrives just as my phone flips to 12:01, and I let out a quick sigh as I walk toward a sleek, silver car at the front of the line. The door opens even before the car has finished rolling to a stop, and I hear a squawk of protest from the driver just as a shape shoots out of the open door and arms wrap around my middle, nearly knocking the air from my lungs.

“Melody?” I squeak, surprised and lacking oxygen. My arms flutter before landing on her shoulders, and I watch as Melody’s mom gets out of the car with her daughter’s bag, apology clear on her face.

“Melody, please don’t kill Summer,” her mom quips dryly, walking over to drop her duffel onto the sidewalk beside us. “I’m so sorry, Summer,” she adds, a sympathetic grimace on her lips. “She was really excited by the idea of coming back, and Mr. Fink said there was an opening, plus she’s in good standing with you guys, so…”

I won’t tell her that ‘good standing’ is certainly…a term for it. Though I peek down at Melody to see that she’s looking balefully up at me, as if daring me to say something to the contrary.

Not that I would dare.

“She’s always welcome here, as far as I’m concerned,” I admit, knowing that I’m pretty close to letting Melody get away with murder. Especially if I don’t like whoever her target might be. “Lily’s here,” I add to Melody, knowing they’d become fast friends last year. “She’s in my cabin. Guess you are too, aren’t you?”

Melody flashes me another smile and shows me the little Red-tailed hawk pin on her shirt. All the campers get them when their welcome packets are mailed out to them, and I hook an arm around her shoulders when she turns to look at her mom.

“I’ll see you in a week?” she asks, then darts forward to hug her mom around the waist. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” her mom assures her, and beams at me. “Don’t let her walk all over you, okay? I swear you won’t die if she hears the word no.”

“She’s perfect,” I lie, though I would do no less for any of the parents. Especially for any girl in my cabin. In my opinion, they’re all absolutely perfect. Even if they are feral, terrifying creatures willing to burn down the nation and topple the patriarchy for their own amusement.

Her mom reaches out to hug Melody one more time, gives her a quick, stern look as she usually does, and with one last smile in my direction, gets in the car to pull away from the curb and presumably head back to the airport.

“She only let me come back because of the move,” Melody admits quietly. “She knows this is my last year, and wanted me to have a good end to the summer.”

My heart twists with pity for Melody, and when she moves to hug me one more time, I embrace her with both arms. “We’ll make it the best week ever, okay?” I promise, looking her in the eye.

She hesitates, then nods. “Is Kayde here again?” she asks, brightening. “He told me he’d teach me a few different swimming styles when I said I’d kind of like to try out for the team next year.”

My stomach plummets to the ground, and I feel a little nauseous as my mouth falls open to give her an answer I don’t have. “Umm. I don’t think so. He was just filling in,” I tell her awkwardly as she grabs her duffel bag, clearly disappointed.

Me too, Mel, I think to myself, checking to make sure there are no more kids waiting for help.

There aren’t. Melody had been the last, and I steer her toward Kinsley while I fix a grin back on my face before either of them realize there’s something off.

“Hey, look who’s back!” I call, causing Kinsley to turn. She grins and walks forward, kneeling down to hug Mel just as I had.