Girl on the Run (25 page)

Our foreheads were almost touching. I kept my eyes cast down. “Lots of kissing,” I said.

I counted the passing seconds in my head, madly trying to come up with a backup plan. “You mean in my future?” he finally asked.

I looked up and got lost in those milk chocolate eyes. “Present,” I whispered.

Our lips touched, not frantic like the first time, but more slowly, more certain. His mouth moved perfectly against mine. Then I started kissing him back, exploring his mouth. A soft groan rose from deep down his chest. My fingers found the back of his neck, combing through his hair, still wet from the shower. A shiver went all the way down to my toes.

After many long kisses, my hands started to roam, slipping under his polo shirt, tracing the muscles on his back. He unzipped my hoodie. I stopped touching him long enough to slouch out of my sweatshirt, tossing it to the side. Then we were pressed up against each other again, kissing each other harder and letting our hands move everywhere.

We were doing this grabbing, pushing, rubbing dance that just kept going on and on. My T-shirt bunched up higher against his chest.
More
, my cells kept screaming. I had no idea what I was doing, but apparently my body had been taking night classes because Kirk seemed to be enjoying everything so far.

We began to slow down, trying to catch our breath, both of us needing to pause the moment. He moved his mouth along my neck and left a trail of kisses down to the soft hollow of my throat. His breath was warm against my skin as he whispered my name.

“You dropped the just,” I sighed.

He stole a kiss from my lips. “The what?”

“You always said Just Jesse,” I explained. “It was like our private joke. And I kind of miss it.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “But you're not Just Jesse anymore.”

“What am I now?”

“Mmm, let's see.” His lips grazed my earlobe. “Kissable Jesse…amazing Jesse…and my personal favourite, naked Jesse.”

“Not tonight.”

He laughed. “Excuse me?”

“Well, all the condoms…” I mumbled, picking some lint off his shoulder, turning the same colour as Spencer's hair.

Kirk stared back at me. His pupils did that weird thing Tyler's had when he asked about my thong. “Are you saying you'd be naked right now if we had a condom?” he asked.

I started to talk fast. “My grandma sent me four boxes,” I said. “They're all gone, and quite frankly, the big gold one scared the crap out of me. But I really love the way you make me feel when we kiss and how my hands want to be under your clothes. Then I worry because we just got together, and I have no idea what I'm doing…”

He put a finger to my lips. “Just Jesse,” he said, “slow down.”

I took a deep breath. “My grandma sent me four boxes,” I began again, enunciating clearly.

“I heard everything you said. I mean, really, slow down.” He leaned back on my bed and pulled me on top of him. He brushed my hair off to the side, and let his hand rest against my cheek. He kissed me again, taking his time, almost teasing me. His fingertips traced up and down my spine.

He rolled us over. I loved the feeling of his full weight on me. He touched his lips once more to mine, then leaned back on his elbow, studying me carefully.

“Are you planning on staying for August?” he asked.

I half joked, “If Susan doesn't fire me.”

“Then we have the rest of the summer,” he reasoned. “You saved a kid from drowning today. Let's keep it to one major event at a time.”

Major event? Yeah, sex for the first time would certainly qualify.

His hand moved down and stopped at the waist of my jeans. “Besides,” he said, sliding his fingers under my T-shirt, “getting there is half the fun.”

Dear Diary,

I think I finally see my new finish line…

E
arly the next morning, Tyler stood in my doorway, shifting his feet nervously.

I imagined the worst. “Is it Spencer?”

“No,” he said. “Susan wants to see you right away. Mr. Baxter is here.”

I pulled on some shorts and a sweatshirt. I crossed the grounds with Tyler, who had been told to wait for me.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked him. “You look worried.”

“I'm sure he's here to talk about Spencer,” he said, his voice shaking slightly.

Yeah, and fire the counsellor who took him running instead of doing water safety.

“How often does he drop in like this?” I asked.

“Never.”

We stopped at the bottom of the steps. I began to climb, but he stayed on the ground, watching me.

“Aren't you coming in with me?” I asked.

“No way,” he said, backing up. “He asked only to see you.”

I continued my journey up the steps of doom and heard Tyler call a weak “Good luck,” before he ran to the main hall.

“Appreciate it,” I grumbled.

I paused outside Susan's office and took a deep breath. I'd never left that room feeling good, but I always had a job. Not this time, though.

I walked in and saw the back of a tweed cap, with red, curly hair poking out from underneath. He was sitting in my usual seat of condemnation.

“Jessica,” Susan said, standing up and motioning to the other chair.

Mr. Baxter rose as well, and I came face to face with the one person who had wanted me fired from the beginning. Except it was more like face to air. I was a good foot taller than him. I was ready for the accusations, a replaying of all the ‘antics,' as Susan called them, of Cabin 4A, and his first words couldn't have surprised me more.

“The famous J.J.,” he said. He smiled behind his tiny round glasses as his fingers enclosed around mine. With his long beige raincoat and frumpy cap, he looked like one of the Tetley tea folk from the TV commercials. Not the tall, skinny one, but the shorter, plump guy who did all the talking.

“Please sit down,” Susan motioned. “Jessica? Can I get you something?” she asked.

I noticed a steaming mug in front of Mr. Baxter.

“No thanks,” I said. Let's take the Band-Aid approach; quick and painless.

“J.J.,” Mr. Baxter began.

“You can call me, Jesse,” I said. If he was going to fire me, he should have the decency to call me by my real name.

“Short for Jessica?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “just Jesse.”

He took off his cap and laid it in his lap. Then he removed his glasses and shined away the dust with a handkerchief. Susan seemed particularly interested in looking out the window.

So much for the Band-Aid approach.

Mr. Baxter put his glasses back on and cleared his throat. “Jesse,” he finally began. “Spencer has been coming to this camp for at least three years now, but I can't recall another time when he has…”

“Mr. Baxter,” I blurted out. “I know what you're going to say. That I should have realized from the beginning that Spencer couldn't swim, and instead of taking him running, I should have had him in water safety class. Then his near drowning would have been prevented.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but since I had already started, I figured I might as well finish the speech I had practiced on the walk across the lawn.

“But,” I continued, “I have to say, since Spencer has been coming here for three years, I would assume he had the opportunity to learn, or at least for it to be known that he couldn't swim. I'm not trying to share the blame, it's just that I want you to know I'm not entirely clueless.”

Mr. Baxter reached for his cup of tea. “Spencer,” he began, “has an ability to get out of things he doesn't want to do. Something I'm afraid I have enabled over the years.”

“Oh.” I shrank back in the chair, somewhat embarrassed by my farewell speech.

“Susan and I have an understanding,” he told me. “She keeps me up to date on his
activities
on an almost daily basis, and I have to confess, after hearing what he had done to you during the first week, I wanted you gone. But only for your own safety.”

“What?”

“I thought maybe reassigning you would be for the best. Spencer usually goes through three or four cabins a summer.”

My eyes flicked toward Susan. “No one told me this,” I said. “I thought I was the problem.”

“In fact,” Mr. Baxter continued, “I believe this is the longest he's ever stayed with the same group of kids.”

One wants to belong,
I remembered. All this time I thought Spencer was struggling to grow up and gain freedom. But he only wanted to find his place to fit in, just like me.

“Um…Mr. Baxter,” I said, “since you're the owner, what do you want to happen? I thought I was called in to be fired.”

“Fired!” He almost spilled his tea. He put his cup back on the desk and looked down at his cap. “I had to meet the person who saved my son's life.”

My cheeks grew warm.

“The doctors say he was very lucky to be found as quickly as he was,” Mr. Baxter said, the cap crumpled in his hands.

“How is he?” I asked.

“Perfectly fine,” he smiled. “In fact, he came back with me. He wants to stay for the rest of the summer.”

“Seriously?” I said. “He almost died! My family would be hugging me until the hospital staff pried them off. Doesn't he want to go home with you?”

Mr. Baxter ignored my tone. “It's only Spencer and myself,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “His mother lives in Europe, and this place is just like home to him.”

Mama Bear started to growl in the background. I may not have been his counsellor anymore, but that didn't mean I couldn't be his advocate. I couldn't ignore the opportunity to help him out, no matter how rude I might sound.

“Look, Mr. Baxter,” I said. “Spencer acts out all the time because he's starved for attention. When was the last time you did anything with him? He's very athletic, you know.”

He smoothed out his coat. “My work makes it impossible for me to be around as much as I would like. But Spencer gets everything he needs.”

“But he needs you,” I said, not backing down. Susan cleared her throat warningly.

He stood up. “I came to say thank you,” he said. “Not to listen to a lecture. But I can see now how you were able to handle Spencer.” He laughed at the end of that sentence. “Susan tells me you'll be taking over water safety. I might just come up and see you try to get him in the lake.”

My shoulders dropped. Message received. I should be thankful to still have a job. Maybe he was right, I thought, watching him shake hands with Susan. Spencer was probably better off with Ben and Cabin 4A than all alone in a mansion for the rest of the summer.

“I hate seeing that empty glass case,” Mr. Baxter sighed.

“Not for long,” Susan told him. “That cup will be ours this year. Jessica's going to run for us.”

I almost fell out of my chair. “What?”

“Don't you remember?” she said. “You offered to run right after I told you about your replacement.”

Oh crap, I did.

“Really?” Mr. Baxter turned to me. “Are you fast?”

I stood up, prepared to tell my whole story. But when I looked at the hopeful expression on Mr. Baxter's face, I stopped myself. “Provincial champion,” I said. Of course, I left out that I was a sprinter and not a long distance runner.

He smiled and patted the glass case. “Well, it might be our summer after all, Susan,” he said.

I gave him my best smile. “Will you be here to receive the cup, sir?” I asked. I thought the sir part was a nice touch.

“I hadn't planned on it,” he said, “but with a possible victory within reach, yes, I'll be here.”

“Great!” I spun around and left the office before my face could give me away. I ran across the grass, heading straight for Cabin 4A.

“Just Jesse!” Kirk called out, with Tyler following behind. “What happened?”

“It's okay, he just wanted to say thank you.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I felt my feet come off the ground.

“Hey,” a voice shouted. “Get a room!”

“Come on,” I said, taking Kirk's hand.

Spencer was on the porch with a crowd gathered around him, talking about being in a tunnel with a light at the end. I leaned against the railing, watching his animated face, knowing it could have been a very different situation.

“J.J.!” I almost choked when he gave me a hug. “Um…thanks,” he said, stepping back.

“We have a theory,” Liam said. “The oxygen deprivation destroyed all the evil parts of his brain.”

“Let's take a walk,” I said.

Spencer and I strolled along the grassy slope without talking—it seemed the moment required a space of silence.

“I've been thinking,” I finally said, “about winning the cup for the camp. Your dad said he would even come up and watch.”

Spencer's face lit up. “Oh yeah?”

“But that only leaves two weeks to train.” I bit my lip, looking across the water.

“Do you need a running partner?” he asked. “Cause I'll do anything you need.”

“That's good to hear,” I said. “But I'm not running the race.”

“Huh?”

I looked him in the eye. “You are.”