But he can’t know that.
“You wish.” I scoff and brush past him toward the door. “I have more schedules to deliver.” I lift a hand as I leave the cabin, not bothering to turn around. “Catch you later!”
I hear him chuckling as the door shuts behind me.
I think I underestimated the level of chaos that exists when one hundred excited eight-to-fourteen-year-olds are all together in a room.
This mess hall isloud. Fortunately, this is where Linda’s inability to use a microphone comes in handy. As usual, when she picks it up, the screech echoes through the room, and it signals the kids to be quiet.
“Welcome to Camp Prairie Star!” Linda whoops.
The returning staff and campers respond to her greeting by stomping their feet and shouting. The newbies soon catch on, and it’s absolute pandemonium.
Troy—the assistant director and Linda’s son—lets out an earsplitting whistle, and the crowd quiets again.
“We’re excited for a great week of fun, friendship, and challenging ourselves to reach higher. You’ve already met your counselors and cabinmates. They’re your group for the week as you go through the various activities we have in store for you. Olivia, come on up and tell us more.”
I do a double take when I realize she called me Olivia. I shake it off and walk up front, taking the microphone from Linda.
I go through my whole spiel about the activity schedule and all the fun things we have planned. Then I hand the microphone back to Linda and step out of the way again.
Nina nudges me. “I love the color codes on the schedule you made,” she whispers. “It’s so nice when something boring can become beautiful.”
The compliment hits me right in the feels. “Thanks,” I murmur, warmth spreading through my chest.
As I look out at the group, my eyes find Gage without even meaning to. He meets my gaze and mouths “Good job,” flashing me a thumbs-up. I know he’s referring to my stint at the microphone—there’s no way he heard Nina’s comment—but his praise stacks right on top of hers to fortify my bruised confidence.
See, now, something that simple from Gage shouldn’t light up my insides like a floodlight. I have to get these reactions under control if I’m going to work with Gage and be friends with him this summer.
After the welcome meeting with the campers, I need a breather before dinner and the opening campfire. I walk out onto the main dock, this one larger than the dock by the swimming area where Gage and I looked at the stars that first night. When I’m all the way at the end, I inhale the fresh air and take in the beautiful lake view in front of me.
It’s interesting how genetics work, even within families. My sisters both loved school—at least the academic parts, if not always the social—and went on to get graduate degrees and work in academic jobs.
I couldn’t be more different.
Though I hated it, I did okay in school, especially once my dyslexia was identified and I started receiving support and accommodations. I did okay enough to go on to graduate college. But I would never get a master’s or doctorate like my sisters.
Their jobs involve working inside a library or a lab, cooped up all day. I don’t know how they do it. Outdoors is where I feel most alive, most like myself. If my body isn’t moving, I get restless. If I don’t start my morning with a run, everything feels off the rest of the day.
It’s probably why I’m so unsettled today. I overslept and nearly missed breakfast, so instead of starting my morning with movement, I started my morning a little stressed out. I can probably get in a quick run in between dinner and the opening campfire tonight, and then I’m sure I’ll feel better.
I’ll feel less like I’m falling back under Gage’s spell, and more like I can exercise some self-control and keep us in the friendship zone.
Leaving the serenity of the dock, I duck into the boathouse on my way past, triple checking that everything looks in order for the campers tomorrow.
The boathouse is a wooden structure built onto the main dock. It’s not much larger than a walk-in closet but works to hold the life jackets and paddles campers need to take the boats on the water. The canoes and kayaks themselves are lined up on the shore on either side of the dock.
My phone vibrates, and I glance at the screen to see Annie video calling me.
“Hey!” I answer, holding my phone in front of me as I walk back to my cabin. On the screen, Annie stands in her bedroom, discarded clothes visible in the background piled on her bed. “What’s going on?”
“I have a date tonight, and I need your opinion on outfits.”
“Ooh, a date! Who’s the guy?” Focusing on my best friend’s love life for a few minutes sounds like a great distraction.
Annie and her long-term boyfriend broke up in February. I wasn’t a big fan of Spencer, but it’s shaken Annie’s confidence enough that she’s dated very little since. I’m glad she’s going on a date, and that she seems excited about it.
Even over the phone, I see Annie’s blush. “Someone I met at the office. Tanner.”
