Page 22 of Crew Girl

“Pretty much.” Cam ran through a few more of the guys. “Baloo,” he said, his tone softening. “He’s kind of an outlier.”

“In what way?”

“He’s nice.” They both laughed. “No, but seriously,” Cam said. “He really is a genuinely nice guy, especially considering how much pressure his mom puts on him and Britney to be perfect. Britney obviously nails the socials, but their mom is always calling Baloo up whenever he posts something she thinks ‘won’t reflect well on the campaign trail.’”

“The Evil Queen is Baloo’s sister?”

Cam laughed. “Is that what you call Britney?”

“She did publicly humiliate me.”

“Fair. And accurate. Apparently, their mom used two different surrogates at the same time. Designer twins.”

Teagan checked his face to make sure he wasn’t joking. Nope. Not a joke. This place was so weird. She peeked out to watch the approaching team just as Baloo split off from the crew to pick a few brightly colored flowers from one of the beds lining the path. He tucked one of them behind his ear, then started plucking the petals off the other, one after the other. When he got to the last one, he smiled.

“Looks like someone loves him,” Teagan said.

“Shame he has to be so secret about it.”

“Why would he have to—” she started, but Cam cut her off.

“We don’t know—he’s usually pretty upfront about the guys he’s chasing after.”

“So what? You think it’s someone the team won’t like?”

Cam shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe he just really cares about them. Their mom’s pretty controlling about the family’s public image. Every photo Brit’s ever taken looks like a professional photo shoot. But Baloo’s more genuine—and sensitive. And I don’t think he’s ever dated someone in real life, so for him to be publicly with someone? That would be big.”

That sucked for Baloo. “And here I was thinking I had it hard wearing the Embezzlement Barbie cone of shame.”

Cam guffawed. A big, friendly laugh she hadn’t heard before. It was nice.

“I hadn’t heard that one.” He put on a fake-serious face and began sizing her up through an imaginary camera lens, like he was seeing if the moniker fit. “No,” he concluded. “Crew Girl’s a better name for you. If…” he qualified, “you get your act together at the front of the boat.” He shifted around so they were side by side and pointed to the right. “What’s this?”

“Starboard,” she said, standing at attention like she was being tested by a drill sergeant.

“And this one?”

His arm brushed against hers as he pointed to the left. A spray of fireworks shot through her. The same thing must’ve happened to Cam because all of a sudden they were staring into each other’s eyes, the noise and chaos around them fading away.

“Port?” she whispered.

“Cam-bucha! Tea Party!” Baloo came bounding over. “Are you playing hide and seek? Who’s it?”

Apparently, they weren’t quite as invisible as they thought.

A life lesson, Teagan thought, as she excused herself and scurried off to get her bike. No one was invisible at Easton Prep. And with all of the students’ parents here? They weren’t just on show. They were under the microscope.

CAM

So, this was what invisibility felt like.

Cam’s stomach gave a loud protest as yet another tray of canapés he couldn’t entirely identify swept past him. The server, a guy he’d gone to middle school with, hadn’t even paused as he’d passed. Should’ve had a burger in town before he’d come back.

His mom and dad had come his freshman year, back when none of them had realized the free champagne and fancy finger foods weren’t worth the price of watching the school parade Cam around like he was a seabird they’d rescued from an oil slick, scrubbed up and given a “real shot at succeeding in life.” His parents had wisely opted out since then. Cam was still waiting to find out why Coach Hayden had insisted he come along tonight. So far, the coach had spent the whole evening being yanked to the side by Josh’s dad, Ryder’s dad, Perry’s dad, Baloo’s mom. They were all probably trying to convince Coach to make their son stroke.

The server was heading back in Cam’s direction but avoiding eye contact. He didn’t push it, even though he could’ve eaten the whole tray. Cam was a townie, but also an Eastonian. Which made him kind of like that guy who lived in an airport for twenty years because his country had a coup during his flight—his passport didn’t work anywhere. Like that dude, Cam didn’t fully belong either place now. An outsider at home, and at school.

To him, Easton Prep was a means to an end. But if he didn’t get into the University of Washington?