“What do you mean? Of course, we can get another AC.” Autumn cocked her head in my direction and finished wringing out her hair.
“Seriously? That would be amazing,” I practically screeched.
Autumn had her ways, so she must have known something that Jack didn’t. I swiped away some sweat and used the washcloth she had rejected, letting out a sigh of sheer relief as I wiped cold water all over my face.
FOUR
Nat
My inbox mockedme as I did my best to open unread messages in bed. With the chaos of arriving late and settling in, I was still playing catch-up on emails and direct messages. I usually stayed meticulously on top of it, something I’d learned from my CEO mom, but offers for brand partnerships kept coming in, and I hadn’t had the capacity lately to connect with them all yet. The more I looked at each email draft I’d started with half-thought-out replies, the more I felt overwhelmed, which made me feel like a failure, and my little ADHD brain couldn’t handle it.
If I could just break through this mental block, then I could delegate to my amazing assistant, Kim. She lived in Chicago, was an excellent communicator, and handled a lot of the behind-the-scenes minutiae. But ultimately, it was up to me to decide what brands I wanted to take on and how much I was willing to put on the line. Too many offers was a good problem to have, but my decision fatigue was running higher these days.
All I knew was that a higher follower count meant more obligations, which was demanding when I was feeling creatively blocked. I did my best to reinvigorate my spark any chance I could to prevent things from going stale. This was one of the reasons I was happy to help Hazel out. Last time I’d been atcamp, I’d left with more energy and inspiration than I’d had in years.
People loved to think that influencing was easy, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. I’d done trends, interviews, and collaborations with other travel bloggers. I took photos and made content months in advance. And I had to be on twenty-four seven. There was a level of authenticity to my brand, which was just as important as showing off the beautiful parts of the world. Not everyone could travel and experience things as I did, but it could be exhausting waiting for the perfect atmospheric shot or dealing with strangers who asked invasive questions. Not to mention blocking gross commenters. Researching and exploring were fun, but sometimes it was challenging. Getting lost in unfamiliar places and the constant moving and living out of a suitcase sometimes meant I needed to just stay in one place for a moment.
It was time for some fresh air. If I was going to get a hike in before camp was awake, I had to disconnect.
That would be easier done if I’d gotten any sleep last night. The heat in my cabin was appalling. That was one of the reasons I was looking forward to getting outside in the fresh air.
Recharge. Reconnect.
I slipped on my hiking boots, nurturing the flame of my inner creative, as though she’d run away if I weren’t careful. Hiking in the wilderness was where I always belonged. Send me into the trees with a rain jacket and hiking boots and I would be home. Give me a camera and sunscreen and I’d be gone all day. However, that wasn’t feasible today, since I had a full day scheduled. The only time I’d have to myself for the first couple of weeks would be the mornings before activities began.
I was also looking forward to the first competition in Camp Wars later this afternoon. I knew how to play Texas Hold‘em, even if it had been a while. I had a surprisingly good gameface. Most competitors underestimated me, and I loved proving them wrong. I loved upping the bets and pulling through with something unexpected.
After I finished lacing my boots, I took off. The air was crisp and fresh at five in the morning. Though I hadn’t slept well, the cool tree canopy and the branches under my feet were rejuvenating in the way only the wilderness could be. I took the walking trail that went around Lake Starlight and caught the sunrise from the east. Oranges and pinks melded into a sherbet sky as the breeze blew wisps of hair out of my eyes.
I’d brought my camera this time and made sure to utilize it, already feeling more motivated to post than I had all last month. It was my first solo hike in forever. Maybe that was why? I was already coming up with a collaboration I could do with Starlight. I’d have to show it to Hazel.
I sat on a large moss-covered rock and stretched my legs out. A dragonfly drifted on the wind around me, and I followed it until it disappeared from view. My younger sister had once told me they symbolized adapting to change and embracing transformation, while enjoying the present. So I was on a mission to be myself, reconnect with acquaintances and my inner child. Deciding to come to camp, no matter how temporary the respite, felt like the right choice.
I’d felt this way last summer, too. I remembered taking this exact walk, sitting on this same rock, looking over the lake, and contemplating what I’d done wrong when another relationship had ended. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let those past mistakes ruin my chance at a good summer, and for the most part, it’d worked.
Was I about to make the same promise? In the same spot? If the Nat-sized shoe fit.
Suddenly, something moved beside me. No—not moved, slithered. I let out a suppressed shriek instead of unleashing aterrified wail, like my inner self wanted to do. I didn’t want to be responsible for waking up the whole camp. I scrambled off the once-serene rock, taking a few clumsy steps backward to see if I could get eyes on the snake. Usually, I got along well in nature, but I had a line, and my line was snakes. They didn’t have legs. They were fast and unpredictable. The only thing snakes were good for was looking badass in Medusa’s hair or on my college ex’s hot bicep tattoo. Nowhere else.
I hightailed it back to camp in double time, ready to shower.
I headedinto the craft cabin storage to get ready for my afternoon activity. Autumn definitely had a system. Was it color-coded or up to my level of organization? No. But at least it made sense for the most part. It didn’t matter, though. Autumn might host a few craft nights here and there, but she was busier than ever, so this was my territory now.
I easily found the supplies for pottery. I loved her carefree brain. Sometimes I wished mine was?—
No, I wasn’t going there. I could appreciate my neuro-spicy brain for what it was. I was organized. Too organized, according to my last girlfriend. But she didn’t realize how one domino out of place meant everything could topple over, and once the chaos set in, it was hard to get myself grounded again. I was scheduled, I paid for help from my assistant, and I had multiple alarms to keep me on task. Thankfully, my system worked.
I selected the clay and began working it while campers piled in. I squished the slippery substance between my fingers and reveled in how it molded so easily, which made me think of my reintegration into camp. How I’d just slid right back in asif nothing had happened. With the exception of Jack noticing. I mashed the clay between my fingers and destroyed what I was doing, ready to start again, until the sound of campers pulled me out of my reverie.
The room filled up without my noticing, and I overheard snippets of conversations. They told stories of only being able to make a bowl in their high school pottery classes. Or on the opposite end of the spectrum, someone who fell in love with ceramics and now owns an online store selling cute mugs.
My demonstration on how to make a leaf-like soap dish went well. The class had fun, and we all had different creations to show for the hour well spent. I’d fire these, and they’d get picked up later.
I tucked my hair behind my ears and began cleaning up the space. A gasp left me when I took in the broad-shouldered, blond man sitting at the back table.
“Shit, I didn’t see you there.” My hackles went up at his unaffected shrug. “What do you want, Jack?”
“Why did you go behind my back? I told you I couldn’t get you an AC this week.”
