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True to his word, Director Ballard has managed to avoid me for most of the last week. He eats early and gets out of the mess hall before I get there. He doesn’t hold any one-on-one counseling sessions and doesn’t supervise hikes or work details anymore. Director Ballard has pulled back from helping with the day-to-day operations and has taken on more of a background support role. I’ve tried getting his attention and I’ve tried talking to him. But he just ignores me, usually having one of the other staff members handle me. I didn’t think he’d be able to do it, but he’s managed to keep a big buffer between us.
I honestly didn’t think he’d be able to. I know for a fact that he felt the same connection to me that I felt with him. A connection that was only strengthened when we had sex. I know it because I saw it in his eyes. Felt it in the way he moved inside of me. And I can still see it on those rare occasions when our eyes meet. There’s something between us. I can see it. I can feel it. And even though he’s doing his best to keep a distance between us, I know he can feel it too.
A frown creasing my lips, I follow the trail down to the docks. I asked for some solitary work today and the counselors were more than happy to assign me to clean up the boathouse, which I’m fine with. It’s isolated and it gives me some time to think. The one thing this weird situation with Director Ballard has convinced me to do, the one thing he said that’s stuck, is that I need to do the work on myself. Despite what my mother thinks, I don’t have a drinking problem. I do have other issues though, and being in this environment, surrounded by a staff trained to help me address them, is helping me to unlock those things and find ways to better deal with them.
I admit I was resistant to the idea of doing work on myself. Counseling isn’t something I thought I needed and frankly, I kind of resented the idea that they thought it was. But once I opened my mind, started listening to the staff, and, as they say, put in the work, I’ve gotten a new perspective on things. Or at least, I’m starting to. It's going to take some time to turn myself around but the things I'm learning have been enlightening. They’ve opened my eyes and are helping me better understand my thoughts and behaviors. The staff at Forward Path is helping me to understand myself in ways I didn’t know I could.
The water in the lake softly laps against the legs of the dock. It’s a peaceful, soothing sound. The sky is deep blue and dotted with fat, fluffy clouds, and it’s pleasantly warm with a soft, cool breeze whispering across the water. It’s a beautiful day. And for the first time since I arrived here, I feel at peace. I feel… good. I feel closer to being content and kind of settled than I have, maybe in my entire life.
I walk into the boathouse and look at the racks of canoes and kayaks that line the walls to my left and right and a wooden walkway that surrounds the open area in the middle of the building where the boats go. A chain and pulley system hangs from the ceiling and allows a single person to get one of the boats into the water on their own, but it doesn’t look like they’ve seen use in a while. There’s a thick layer of dust over everything and a musty, but the not unpleasant aroma in the air. I grab the broom and
Of course, my mind is still churning with thoughts of Director Ballard and the things we’ve done together. I think that’s to be expected. I gave my virginity to the man and though I don’t regret it, I’m a little upset by how he’s been acting since that day. I understand that he’s in a delicate position. That’s why I haven’t pressed anything. I’m not insensitive to his situation. If it got out he was sleeping with the people at his camp, it would be disastrous for him. I get that.
At the same time though, he can’t just pretend what happened didn’t actually happen. Nor can he pretend there isn’t a connection between us. He can’t tell me he doesn’t feel it every bit as strongly as I do. Or that he doesn’t want it to happen again. I know I do. Having him inside of me again is practically all I can think about these days. It’s one reason why I dove headfirst into the work I’m doing at the camp—as a distraction from where my mind is at. And I keep hoping that we’ll find a way to address the elephant in the room.
I grab the broom and start sweeping the wooden planks beneath my feet, kicking up big clouds of dust that make me cough. But I keep going and after that, I start wiping down the boats. Beads of sweat dot my brow and roll down my back as I work, trying to settle my mind. As I work though, I hear the sound of motors. I look up and through the open wall that looks out onto the lake, I feel the blood in my veins turn cold. A shudder runs through my body and my stomach clenches so hard, it makes me grimace.
A pair of Jet Skis is approaching the boathouse. Alex and Auggie cut the engines and drift forward, both of them looking at me like a predator staring at its prey. I see a smarmy smirk touch Alex’s lips and he says something quietly to Auggie that makes him laugh. I know I should turn and run back to the camp—I’m at the far end and nobody is likely going to hear me scream. But my feet feel rooted to the ground and I’m unable to move.
“Well, hey, Jordan,” Alex says.
They let their watercraft drift into the boathouse and stop their momentum by putting a foot on the walkway. They’re both staring at me and that feeling of being a field mouse with hungry hawks circling overhead only grows stronger.
“Y—you should get out of here,” I say, trying to sound stronger than I feel.
“We started something I’d like to finish,” Alex replies.
“You were trying to rape me.”
“Nah. You wanted it,” he says, his gaze boring into mine. “In fact, you still do. I can tell.”
“You two really want to get your asses beat again, don’t you?”
The sound of Director Ballard’s voice sends a wave of warmth flowing through me and I have to suppress the smile that touches my lips when I see Alex and Auggie’s face blanch. Heavy footsteps sound on the wooden floor but I remain where I am, watching the boys as Director Ballard passes me and steps closer to them.
“Stay away from us,” Auggie says and cringes at the slight quiver in his voice.
“Yeah, we’ll call the cops,” Alex adds.
“No, you won’t. If you were going to call the cops, you would have done it by now,” Director Ballard snaps. “Besides, there’s also that whole attempted rape thing I’d love to see you explain to them when they get here. So, you’re not going to do shit except start those Jet Skis and get the fuck out of here. Now.”
His voice is low and tight, his gaze as he looks at them cold and imperious. Alex and Auggie are doing their best to keep from looking terrified, but I can see they are. They clear their throats and try to hold onto their swagger, but I can see their eyes darting back and forth and uncertainty on their faces. Alex swallows hard and gives Director Ballard a hard look, doing his best to make it seem like their leaving is their idea. They start their engines and without another word, motor out of the boathouse and take off.
Director Ballard and I stand there for a long minute, listening to the sound of the engines ebbing. It’s not long before silence descends over us. My heart starts to race, and I tremble as my throat grows dry. He turns to me, his icy blue eyes drinking me in and I feel the heat bloom between my thighs.
“Thank you,” I say. “I was afraid I was out here alone.”
“I’ve always got my eyes on you, Jordan.”
“Y—you do?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s my responsibility to keep everybody safe.”
He gives me a nod and then starts to head for the door. My stomach is churning, and I want to tell him that I don't want him to go. I want to tell him a thousand other things. But my throat is dry, and I don’t seem able to form a single coherent word. Instead, as he walks around me, I grab hold of his hand and stop him in his tracks. He looks down at me with surprise on his face.
My stomach churns, my heart is thundering against the inside of my chest, and the fire burning between my thighs gets hotter.
“Jordan, we can’t—”
