Stealing Third (10 page)

Was
that an omelet?

The
fluffy yellow blob drops to the ground in front of my pancake syrup covered
feet, and I’m careful not to step on it as I toss a fistful of fruit cocktail
and cool whip across the table, hitting Tyler on the side of his face, and
splattering the red headed kid standing next to him.

“Oops,
my bad.” I grin as he scoops the whipped cream off his cheek. It’s a pointless
gesture since we’re both covered in every type of breakfast substance possible.
What’s a little whip cream at this point?

Tyler
moves towards me, holding high in the air a container of runny yogurt, as
something unidentifiable flies past my head. I duck, just in time to catch
Walter on the stage getting splattered in what looks to be orange juice. He
throws his hands in the air and demands the food fight stops immediately.
Well…I think that’s what he’s saying. I can’t quite hear him over the sound of
my own laughter as Tyler continues stalking towards me with the tub tilted and
ready to pour.

I
stumble back, as pancakes, turkey sausages, and scrambled eggs fly around us,
but despite all the craziness, he’s all I can focus on. The way his muscles
flex each time he moves, the crinkle he gets around his eyes when he smiles,
and the way his voice sounds when he laughs, deep and smooth and carefree.

“I
thought since the red has just about washed out of the ends of your hair, you
might need a quick touchup. How’s white sound?” Tyler takes another step
forward, wearing a self-assured smile and a little bit of jam. “You are team
white after all,” he says, closing the distance between us. “Where’s your
spirit?”

I
glance at the table next to me and grab the first red thing I can find. An
entire carafe of strawberry syrup. That’ll work.

I
hold it up so he can see we’re both armed and ready. “Team red, right?” I arch
my eyebrow, daring him to try me. “I’ve got your spirit right here, Slugger.
Come and get it.”

His
eyes dart around the room, I assume to see if we’re being watched, before he
turns back to me and licks his lips. “You’ve definitely got something I want.”

The
intensity in his voice and the set of his jaw makes my stomach flutter,
reminding me of the way his strong hands and soft lips felt on my skin last
night, and how badly I want to feel them again, everywhere.

“Mr.
Ford. Ms. Evers. My office. Now.”

…

Sticky,
and a little scared, I stand on the linoleum floor, trying not to drip on
anything in Walter’s office as we wait to find out why we’re even here. But if
his tone is any indication, it’s big.

Shit.
He doesn’t know about last night? Does he?

My
worry surprises me as I glance at Tyler, who looks even more freaked out than I
feel. Sometime between the swim test and swimming in pancake syrup I’ve
forgotten just how badly I want to get outta this place, and even more
surprising, I’ve forgotten, even if temporarily, about the problems waiting for
me at home.

Walter
walks into the office toweling off his hands, his shirt still covered in
splatters of grape jelly, orange juice, and syrup. “Do you two know why you are
here?” he asks, his voice clipped.

By
the look on his face, I can guess. He knows.

I
take a step forward, ready to take the blame, since I don’t want Tyler getting
into trouble, especially because of me.

“It’s
my fault,” I say, shifting my weight, my flip flops making a sticky suction cup
like sound against the floor. “I… I was the one who started it. Tyler just
reacted, like any guy would have.”

Walter
clears his throat before taking a seat at his desk. “Emily, while I applaud your
honesty, I saw it with my own two eyes, and you are both to blame for what
happened.”

My
eyes go wide. He…he saw us? How? And how much?  My face burns with
embarrassment as I shoot Tyler a look, finding his is the complete opposite of
mine. Stark white.

“Sir—”

Walter
shakes his head, silencing me. “No, Emily, Tyler is a head counselor and his
behavior should reflect the responsibility he has been given. That being said,
as a junior counselor, you too, are expected to be an example to the younger
campers.” Walter pulls out a file from his desk and jots down some notes before
closing it, entwining his fingers, and resting them on top. “You leave me no
choice here.”

Tyler
steps to the edge of Walter’s desk, his shoulders up around his ears with
tension. “Mr. Robbins, please, let me explain.”

“I’m
sorry, but you’ll both have to miss the first day of color wars to clean up the
mess you’ve made, and unfortunately, I will have to write you both up with an
infraction.” Walter lowers his voice, sounding more sympathetic than angry now.
“Please, don’t make me have to write you up again. You two know the rules.
Three times and you’re out.”

The
mess? We got into trouble for the food fight?

I
hold my smile back, despite how relieved I am. He didn’t catch us making out last
night,
and
I just got my first strike.

I’m
not sure this day could get any better.

As
we step out of Walter’s office and head down the stairs to the cafeteria, I
finally let my smile out. My hair might be crunchy to the touch and smell like
an Ihop, but for now, I could care less.

“Can
you believe that? I thought for sure he’d caught us for—you know—last night.” I
turn to face Tyler with an extra bounce in my step, but I stop moving
altogether when I see his face. “Wait. Are you okay?”

Tyler
tries to drag his hand through his hair, but it too has dried and hardened from
the food fight. With his nostrils flaring and the muscles in his jaw tight he
storms past me and into the cafeteria.

He’s
mad?

I
move quickly after him, confused why he’s not as relieved as I am. So what?
It’s just the first day of color war we have to miss. Who really cares about
boat races, anyway?

“Tyler,”
I reach out and touch his arm just above his elbow, “what’s wrong?”

Tyler
yanks his arm out of my hand and steps away. “Let’s just clean up this mess so
we can go, all right?”

“No.
I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on. Did I do something
wrong?” I ask, replaying the last thirty minutes in my mind, trying to figure
out why the sudden change.

Ignoring
my question, Tyler makes his way to the garbage cans, picking up large chunks
of food as he goes.

“I’m
serious.” I cross my arms, unmoving.

“Quit
playing around. Let’s just get this mess cleaned up and go.” Tyler tosses a
handful of garbage in the trash with force. “The last thing I need is getting
into anymore trouble with you.”

And
there it is. Mr. Goodie-two-shoes—stickler for the rules—is upset he got in
trouble for a food fight.

I
let out a small laugh, which earns me a stern look from across the room. “We
started a food fight and got a slap on the wrist; it’s not the end of the
world.” I move to the set of windows behind me and pull down the blinds,
causing the rays of sunlight beaming through to disappear. I continue around
the room shutting each blind to block out both the light and the prying eyes.

Slowly,
Tyler straightens from being hunched over and scooping up trash, and watches me
as I close the last set of blinds, the only light filling the room is the soft
beams peeking through the closed slates.

“Emily.”
Tyler cautions as I move towards him until we’re standing so close I can feel
the rush of air he blows out, a mixture of frustration and desire washing over
me. “We can’t do this.”

Keeping
my eyes fixed on him, I reach up and run my hand across the stubble on his jaw,
my hips pressing against his. He lets out a soft groan. His want is as palpable
as mine as he grips the sides of my tank top and exposes a strip of skin on my
back that sends shivers up my spine.

“What
are you so worried about?” I whisper, pressing our foreheads against one
another and drawing his lips closer to mine.

“With
you? Everything.”

In
the quiet of the empty room, with Emily standing so close I can feel heat
radiating off of her, it’s hard to remember why this is such a terrible idea.

“You.
That’s what worries me.” I offer the truth so quietly, I’m not sure she can
hear me above the sound of my hand slowly running up the length of her arm.

Lifting
up onto her tiptoes, she wraps her arms around my neck and puts just enough
distance between us I can see her eyes searching my face in earnest.

“Because
of the fraternization rule? Or is it my dad? Because it can’t be my age. I
mean…it’s not my age is it?” she asks. “We’re barely two years apart.” Her eyes
are large and as open as her questions. She really wants to know what my
hesitation is—no games.

I
shake my head, unsure how to answer.

I
came to Camp Champ with a plan to job shadow Doc, make some extra cash, and
figure out what I want to do with my future—my plan was not to fall for some
girl who makes me want to screw my plans, break the rules, and just have fun.

“I
guess it’s all of it,” I admit, looking into her light brown eyes. I wrap my
arms around her waist and rest my entwined fingers against the small of her
back. “I had a plan for this summer…and…and I guess I didn’t expect you.”

“The
truth is…I didn’t expect you either.” Emily bites her lip. “And trust me,
you’re not the only one whose summer plan is getting knocked right outta the
park these days. So, I get it.”

I
take a deep breath, unsure what she’s talking about, but the brief flicker of
worry that flashes in her eyes and the sudden tension in her neck, makes me
wonder what plans she’s putting on the line, too.

“You
know we have to keep this quiet, right?” I say, swallowing hard, as I try to
shove away the worry of Coach, the majors, med school, and the inevitable
trouble I’ll be in if we get caught—because maybe letting loose will do me some
good. It led me to Emily after all.

A
smile breaks out on her face as I pull her tighter against my body. “Does that
mean—”

“That
I give in?” I laugh.

“You
make it sound like it’s against your will.” She pouts. “You know…you don’t have
to do me any favors, since I’m pretty sure Todd would be happy to step up to the
plate if you’re not game.” She arches an eyebrow in teasing defiance.

The
sudden jolt of jealousy I felt at the campfire, and then again listening to
Todd lie about hooking up with Emily surges through me, making me feel both
protective and possessive.

“Oh,
I’m more than game,” I whisper, lowering my lips to hers. “Now come here,
before I change my mind.” I tease back, knowing there’s no turning back
now—maybe there never was. 

I
lean down, ready to take Emily’s bottom lip between my teeth, the way I did
last night, when Todd’s booming voice ricochets against the glass windows from
the outside. We tear apart right before the front doors of the cafeteria fly
open.

“This
is total bull.” Todd stomps in.

By
the time I grab a chair, that appears to be covered with gravy, Emily has
somehow made it almost completely across the room from me and is wringing out
soapy water from a mop, acting like we weren’t almost caught thirty seconds
into our newly minted…relationship. If that’s what this is.

Jenny
walks in right behind Todd. “Just be glad you got a warning and didn’t get
written up.”

“All
I did was announce what was already happening—it’s not my fault everyone
thought it was an invitation to join in. I don’t get why I have to help clean
up, but whatever.”

“I
know, it’s lame.” Jenny touches Todd’s bulky arm, letting her hand linger. “You
totally didn’t do anything, but the sooner we all get done, the sooner we can
head down to the lake for the boat races.”

Todd
shrugs as Jenny flips on the fluorescent lights hanging overhead. She smiles
when she sees me. “Reinforcements have arrived.”

“Oh,
hey, guys. You got in trouble, too?” I set the gross gravy chair back down;
knocking lumpy globs to the ground with a splat. “I wonder who ratted us all
out?”

“Probably
Team Orange. Trying to sabotage the two biggest threats on Team Red I bet.”
Todd starts yanking the blinds open, letting even more light flood the room,
the full destruction from the food fight in full view. “Let’s knock this room
out, and then take them down. What’d say?” Todd asks, before punching a half
full carton of milk to the ground in a show of force—which I’m sure is for the
benefit of Emily, by the way he puffs his chest and flexes his biceps.

It
takes effort to not look at Emily and laugh, despite desperately wanting to see
her reaction, but I manage to keep my attention on the job at hand until Jenny
grabs a trashcan next to the front door and drags it towards me.

“Hey,”
she says, sidling up next to me.

“Since
you got in trouble too, maybe Team Red isn’t Team Orange’s only target,” I
joke, unsure why she’s here. I didn’t see her during the food fight, and she
looks relatively clean compared to the rest of us.

“I
just came to help out.” She smiles bending down, and letting her tank top fall
open as she picks up scraps of food. “Thought you might like some company.”

“Thanks,
Jenny,” Emily says, continuing to mop the floor from across the room, but
obviously listening in. “We definitely needed the help since I’m pretty sure—if
left all by ourselves—Tyler and I could not have gotten much done.” The mop
bucket sloshes, as a knowing grin plays on Emily’s lips.

She’s
got that right.

I
choke back a laugh. “Emily’s right, we might have been here all day if it
weren’t for you two.”

“Covered
in whip cream, no less,” Emily chimes in, reminding me of exactly what Jenny
and Todd just interrupted, a blush rushing to her cheeks.

Damn.

“Yeah.
Thanks, you guys.” I try to keep the sarcasm at bay. “Thanks a lot.”