Bookishly Ever After (23 page)

Em made a gagging motion behind Kris, but he didn’t notice. A smile spread across his face. “Definitely. It’s easy when you’ve done it a million times.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on volunteering because this won’t even be a challenge, but my pain-in-the-ass little brother is going this year and my parents want me to hold his hand. It’ll be nice to have some decent company, instead of hanging with just the football rejects and outdoor club granola people.”

“Feebs, we have to go.” Em grabbed my arm and started pulling. “I think I’m about to vomit.”

I turned to narrow my eyes at her before facing him again. “Um, see you later.” I waved in the most Marissaesque manner I could while tripping after Em and the others. As soon as we were down a different aisle and out of his hearing, I yanked myself free. “What was that about? Kris was actually
talking
to me.”

Em let out an exasperated sound. “I can’t believe you did it again.”

“Did what again?”

“You were acting like…like some airhead and he was eating it up.”

I shook my head at her. “I was not acting like an airhead. I was flirting. You should know a lot about that.” I looked to Grace for help, but she stepped back, holding up her hands.

“It was pretty bad, Feebs,” Alec added, and I threw him a dirty look.

Em nodded. “I could practically see his ego expanding.”

I took a deep breath, my flirty high crashing down around me. Leave it to my friends to ruin what was one of the best moments of my junior year. I grabbed the cart handle and started pushing it towards the checkout. “Let’s stop talking about this, okay? I don’t want to argue.”

I looked over my shoulder at Kris, who was disappearing into the hiking boot aisle, and he turned around just in time to wink at me. I hid my grin and picked up my pace. Maybe camp with Kris wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

“Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with new ways to screw up in it?”
—Kaylie,
Cradled on the Waves

“I’m sorry, but no knives. Trust me, there won’t be any chance that you’ll end up stranded in the middle of the woods and will have to do ‘survivalist things.’” One of the teachers told a student as I passed. “We’re going to Burlington County, not the Himalayas.”

I choked back a laugh and kept dragging my sleeping bag behind me until I reached the first bus, where we were supposed to meet our ‘managing teacher.’ A really younglooking blonde with short hair looked up from her tablet and smiled at me. “You must be Phoebe.” I blinked and she gestured at my bags before holding out her hand. I tentatively shook it, feeling weird the whole time. Teachers didn’t do things like shake hands. “The bow bag gave it away. We’re really excited to be able to have an archery module this year.” Yeah, this one was probably straight out of college. “I’m Mrs. Forrester and I’ll be advising you and the rest of the counselors. For the basics, I mean.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that or if I even had to, so I just nodded. “Okay.” I hitched my bow bag even
more securely on my shoulder and stepped back, almost bumping into someone.

“Watch it!” Came the voice from behind me and I turned, an apology on the tip of my tongue. One of Grace’s cheerleader friends, Cassie, squinted at me sleepily and shook her head. “Oh, Phoebe, it’s you.” She yawned. “It’s too early to have to watch out for people trying to step on me.”

“Sorry.” I smiled sheepishly while moving sideways into an empty spot. “It’s too early for my brain to work.”

“You’re telling me.” Dev joined us and my stupid, traitorous heart stopped beating for a second. Even in pajama pants with his hair sticking up all over the place in messy spikes, he looked hot. I blinked and tried to focus instead on his ratty grey duffel bag and the Echelon Cricket Club logo on the side. He must have seen me staring. “Sport of champions. It’s my dad’s bag. I suck at batting and bowling.” I just kept staring, feeling a bit dumb.

“Cricket, like in
Alice in Wonderland
?” Cassie asked. She gave my foot a nudge.

God, was I
that
obvious? “No, that was croquet,” I said, shifting my focus to her gratefully. Grace had good taste in teammates.

I was saved from having to say anything when Mrs. Forrester blew a little whistle straight out of
The Sound of Music
to get our attention. “Counselors, now that you’re all here, just some quick basics. If you check out the packets we sent you, there should be a number on the top of the front page. That’s your cabin number.” I pulled the green
folder out of my bag and flipped the corner down until the big number eight was visible. I breathed a sigh of relief. If the numbering meant anything, at least my cabin wouldn’t be the first for anything. While we shuffled through our packets, she handed out bags labeled with our names. I opened mine and pulled out a yellow polo shirt with Lambertfield Middle School logo stamped on the spot where there was usually a pocket.

Mrs. Forrester cleared her throat to get our attention again. At least she wasn’t going to whistle at us all the time. “These are your uniforms. There should be three shirts in there, and there are laundry facilities at the camp. Whether or not you clean them is up to you, but you have to wear the shirts during all daytime activities at the camp. Also, a few ground rules. You’re here to help the students. No partying in the woods. If your significant other is here, no making out or whatever you kids do nowadays in the woods. First, poison ivy is awful if it gets
there
and second, we
will
call your parents if we catch you.” That got a snicker from some of the group. “Also, if you have a problem camper, you are to come to me for advice.”

I unzipped my hoodie and pulled one of the shirts over my henley before shrugging back into my jacket. May mornings in New Jersey were still pretty cold.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head, sucking in a breath as Dev, apparently heedless of the chill, pulled off his own shirt and replaced it with the polo. I sucked back a surprised gasp. He was fast, but
not so fast that I didn’t get a full, unobstructed view of his bare chest for what were the longest few seconds of my life. I pulled my hoodie around my face to hide my burning cheeks.

Cassie grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a redand-orange suitcase. “Can you help me stuff these in here? I barely got it closed this morning,” she said loudly. She gave me a sympathetic smile before bending over and unzipping the bag. “You’re so red,” she whispered, stating the obvious. “I thought you might want an out.”

“Thank you,” I said, softly.

“I’ve been there,” she said without looking up. “Ex-boyfriend or crush?”

“Does ex-crush who thinks I just like him as a friend count?” I held the suitcase lid down while she tried to zip it shut. She hadn’t been exaggerating about it being overstuffed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kris hurrying our way, a younger version of himself in tow. I ducked my head so my hair covered my face. It was too early to even think of being cute and flirty. “And here comes my current crush.”

Cassie looked up, screwing up her nose like a skunk had just walked by. “You mean Mr. ‘The Football Team Is a Bunch of Rejects?’’” One look at me and she smoothed her features back into a comforting smile. “Ugh. Think of the bright side. Chances are you and Dev aren’t co-counselors, which means you won’t see him most of the time. And maybe you and Kris might be partnered.”

I looked over at Dev again, who was comparing his
folder with some of the other guys. A burning feeling seared me down to my toes. I quickly tried to shift that gaze and feeling over to Kris. “That would be fantastic.”

By the time my sleeping bag and duffel were unloaded from the bottom of the bus, most of the counselors were already arranging on the far side of the parking lot. After passing the wall of teachers trying to organize all of the sixth graders, I looked up and my heart sunk. Kris was holding up a piece of paper with a big number two written on it while chatting with one of the girls from the outdoor club who had to be his co-counselor. Shoving my disappointment to the back of my mind, I kept walking, eyes scanning for my number.

Dev stood under the number eight taped to the side of the camp parking lot fence.

If this were a perfect world, I would have been able to break into frustrated tears then and there and no one would notice. I almost turned around to run back to the safety of the bus. Instead, I sucked in a deep breath and drew myself up, trying to look graceful and unconcerned as I swung my sleeping bag and dropped it against the fence. That thing was freakishly heavy. “This isn’t your number, is it?” That came out before I could stop it. I bit the inside of my cheek before I could say anything else.

His expression was frustratingly unreadable. “You’re
eight, too?” I nodded and he stepped aside to make room for me. “I guess we’re partners.”

“I guess so.” The universe had a sick, sick sense of humor. I faked a smile to cover up the churning in my stomach and stood next to him with just enough space between us that I didn’t risk brushing up against any part of his body. “Go team eight?” I said halfheartedly, leaning against the wooden boards.

“Ha, yeah. We’ll make a great team. Band geeks unite.”

I rolled my head against the fence to look at him. “I don’t think it would instill a lot of hope in our campers if they heard you say that.” He laughed and a little of the tension seeped out of me. At least he didn’t seem to notice I was freaking out inside.

Breathe. Deal.
It was easy enough to politely avoid him at school, but here…not happening. I was a big girl and if Maeve could work alongside Aedan, I could counsel a few kids and shoot some arrows. I let my eyes slide over to Dev, who was checking his camp papers with an intensity that made the whole breathing thing stop working again. Easier said than done.

While we waited for all of the kids to get sorted, I pulled out my cellphone, which was picking up barely a bar of signal, and started texting with my screen angled away from Dev.

You will never guess who my partner is at camp.

Em’s response was fast, as if she’d been waiting.
Dev.
No question mark. A sick realization dawned in me.

I frowned at the screen.
How did you know?
I held my breath, waiting for her answer. Something simple like ‘lucky guess’ or ‘He already texted me.’

Instead,
I let Cooper know that you two would make a great team. You can thank me later.

WDSFJIEWHFE
!

Huh?

I’m going to kill you when I get home.
I shoved my phone into my pocket and ignored the ping of three or four texts that followed. Great. Set up by my best friend. For five days. In the woods. Without real showers. At the same camp as Kris. This was going to be about as fun as the presidential fitness test in gym class.

Dev looked over at me with that same odd expression. Maybe not so weird, considering I was the one ignoring my buzzing and ringing jacket. He opened his mouth to say something, but the rush of ten and eleven year olds coming our way stopped him. There was no way this was going to work. No way.

“Okay. Dish.” Cassie said, coming up beside me, her bag bouncing on the bumpy dirt path to the mess hall.

I looked up at her for half a second before focusing again on the ground. Between my sleeping bag throwing off my balance and tree roots, my odds of falling were high. “Dish about what?”

“This ex-crush thing of yours. Bad luck with the group assignment, by the way.”

That
was the understatement of the millennia. Thankfully, Dev and my group were all the way at the front, yelling some kind of campy song. “Yeah.”

“So, if you don’t mind telling me, why is Dev an excrush?” She plucked a dead leaf off a blueberry bush and shook it at me like an old lady wagging her finger disapprovingly. “And please don’t try to keep me out of the loop. I’ll get it out of you whether you want to tell me or not.”

As much as I appreciated her save earlier, I didn’t feel like baring my heart to someone I barely knew. “He just wasn’t interested in me, that’s all. There isn’t really a story to tell.”