Stealing Third (13 page)

Read Stealing Third Online

Authors: Marta Brown

BOOK: Stealing Third
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A
hot flash of blood bursts behind my cheeks. “Um…yes, sir.” I bite my lip.
“Tyler was very...thorough.”

“Good,”
Doctor Newton says, handing me the ice pack to take. “Do you need help getting
back to your cabin?”

I
shake my head. “No, I’m fine, but thanks.”

With
Doc’s help, I scoot off the exam table, tuck the crutches underneath my arms,
and then share a quick glance with Tyler before shuffling out of the office and
back to my cabin.

Leaning
the crutches on the edge of my bed, I’m relieved everyone is still out playing
the game, leaving the cabin empty.

I
dig under the bunk for my box of stationary—and the three page letter to Kat I
still haven’t managed to mail—before unfolding the sheets of paper, and
skimming what I’ve already written. I can’t help but laugh at how much has
changed since I started this letter. And here I go again, adding to the growing
pages of constantly changing updates.

 

Dear
Kat,

I’m
starting to feel like my life is a soap opera! (But one of the good ones-like
the Young and the Beautiful, or is it the Restless and Bold? Whatever…you know
what I mean!)

Anyway,
things have seriously changed here since my last update…like falling head over
heels (or I guess cleats in my case) for Tyler kind of changed.

Kat,
he’s amazing! And not just in the ridiculously good looking and unbelievably
good kissing kind of way, but in all the ways. He’s funny, and sweet, and
smart, and crazy talented at everything he does. (Well…except maybe playing
capture the flag! Long story☺)

But
what I really wanted to tell you is I’m thinking about scrapping my plans to
get kicked out of camp. I don’t know…  Am I going to keep trying to piss my
parents off on purpose during college so they’ll stay together?  And what about
when I’m married?  And have kids of my own?

When
does it end, ya know?

When
one of my schemes ends up hurting me, or worse, the family I’m trying so hard
to salvage? I can’t. Even with the best intentions, I can’t keep doing this anymore.
And really…no one is happy, even though that’s all I’ve ever really wanted for
my family in the first place. (I know you’re probably shouting “that’s what
I’ve been saying!”)

I
hear you, now. (And love you and miss you like crazy, btw!)

 

“Hey,
Em,” Lucy says, skipping in from the back door of the cabin and startling me. “Oh,
sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She plops down on the edge of my bunk, her
face flushed and slightly out of breath.  “What’cha doin?”

“Just
writing a letter to Kat. What are you up to?” I ask, surprised to see her. “Did
you just run here?”

“Say
hi to Kat from me, and yes, I did. But being an equestrian doesn’t require
quite the same amount of cardio as softball does, so layoff,” Lucy jokes,
grabbing the crutches from the edge of my bed, and standing up to hop around
the room. “I heard you got hurt, so I came to check on you. I swear you’ve
spent more time at the nurse’s station than all of the kids in my cabin put
together. I’m starting to think you have a crush on Doc.”

I
swallow hard. If only she knew how close to the truth she is.

“Very
funny,” I sputter, wishing I could spill, but knowing it’s best to keep Tyler
and me a secret. “But really, I’m fine, it’s just a sprain.”

Lucy
hands me the crutches. “Well, come on then—let’s go get some food. And I
imagine you’ll want to go to the campfire tonight to gloat.”

I
furrow my brows. “Gloat?”

“Yes,
gloat,” Lucy rolls her eyes, smiling, “your team won… again.”

A
smile breaks across my face, since I’m pretty sure that snagging Tyler’s flag
helped us win. “In that case, I imagine you’re right.” I grab my pen, and
scribble a final note to Kat.

 

Have
to run, (or limp…another long story) but I promise I’m mailing this letter to
you tomorrow!

-Em

 

I
fold the letter in half and tuck it under my pillow, so I won’t forget to mail
it again, and head out for the night—hoping to do a little more than just
gloating.

That
is, if Tyler’s game.

 

Chapter
22

Tyler

 

“Dude,
I think I’m gonna be sick,” Todd moans, walking back from the dining hall, holding
his stomach.

Concealed
by the darkness, I roll my eyes. What the hell did he think would happen? “You
probably should have thought of that before you bet Andy you could drink an
entire bowl of salsa after eating fifteen tacos, dude.”

Todd
puffs out his chest, but it doesn’t quite rival the distension of his stomach
at the moment. “Yeah, but I totally did it—which makes me awesome.”

“Awesome
is one way to put it,” I say, shaking my head as he lets out a loud burp that
echoes down the trail. “Disgusting might be another.”

“Disgustingly
awesome, maybe.” Todd laughs, running ahead of the group, before turning around
and wrapping his arms around his body so it appears they’re not his own, but
someone else’s pawing at him. “Doesn’t stop The Bod from getting all the
ladies,” he mumbles, pretending to make out with himself, which I imagine he
does a lot.

“So
is your left hand named, All, and your right hand named, The Ladies? Or is it
the other way around?” I ask, earning howls from the other guys and a punch to
my arm from Todd.

“We
actually call that ‘plucking yourself,” Andy says. “And you might not want to
brag about it,” he deadpans to Todd, his face as flat as his tone, before he
pretends to whip out an arrow from the phantom quiver on his back, load his bow,
and shoot. “Bullseye,” he calls out, wearing a giant grin, and cracking
everyone up instantly. Well—everyone except Todd.

Who
knew archers had their own version of locker room talk?

“Hardy-har-har,”
Todd mocks, as I give Andy a high five, and some serious dissing cred. “Very
funny,” he says, shoving Andy into a set of thorny bushes before sucking in his
taco filled gut. “Speaking of ladies.”

I
follow Todd’s line of sight down the trail and see Jenny and the rest of her
cabin approaching.

My
stomach twists at the sight of Emily shuffling towards us on her crutches. And
simultaneously I wish I could take her injury away,
and
be back in the
nurse’s office with her long leg draped over my shoulder like earlier today.

Todd
lifts his chin in one quick upward motion, giving her the cool guy nod. My gut
tightens until I realize it’s actually aimed at Jenny and not Emily for once.
It’s about time.

“Hi,”
Jenny says, bouncing to a stop with Emily right beside her.

“You
girls headed to the campfire?” I ask, unconsciously directing my attention to
the tiny magnet wrapped up in my red hoodie, her smile lighting up the dark
trail.

“Hey,
you know that’s our color, right?” Todd yanks on Emily’s sleeve like a caveman
and knocks her off balance.

My
fists tighten and I have to work to relax my clenched jaw as she takes a few
small hops to regain her footing.

Emily
seems unfazed though; her eyes—and her smile—never leaving mine. “Apparently…”
Emily draws out, “I brought back the winning flag today, so I decided to pay tribute
to the team who gave us our color war victory.”

This
time, Todd shoves me. “Nice job, dude.”

“Trust
me,” I give him a small shove back before returning my full attention to Emily,
“it was stolen way before I even knew what was happening.” I offer it as an
explanation for losing my flag, but from the soft smile Emily gives me, I’m
pretty sure, just like earlier, she knows I’m not talking about the flag at
all. At least—I hope she does.

“You’re
coming down, right?” Jenny asks, glancing over her shoulder to where the faint
glow from the campfire on the other side of the trees is starting to burn high
and bright, the whole camp gathering to celebrate the end of the Color Wars.

“Unless
you guys are too embarrassed to show your faces now?” Emily tosses me a flirty
smirk, reveling in her win.

 “Oh,
we’ll be there,” I say, shooting her a quick wink before Jenny can turn back
around and catch it. “Soon.”

“All
right, we’ll save you seats then,” Jenny says. She tosses a small wave over her
shoulder before she, Emily, and the rest of their cabin head down the dark
path.

Waiting
until they’re finally gone, I start up the trail in the opposite direction.

“Uh,
Tyler, the campfire is that way.” Andy points, his red hair and pale white skin
almost glowing in the dark.

I
drop my voice to a whisper. “Yeah, but cabin number eight is that way.” I point
up the trail.

The
guys look from one to the other and I’m surprised it’s Todd who figures it out
first.

“Raid!”


Donning
all black, we cut through the trees behind the cabins to avoid getting caught
by any stragglers on the trail, our arms stuffed with as many rolls of toilet
paper as we can carry.

“This
is going to be epic,” Todd says under his breath, crouching down outside the
back of the girl’s cabin.

I
wrap my hands on the ledge and lift up just enough to peer into the window to
make sure the cabin is empty. “We’re clear.”

Waving
them in, we slip through the back door of the girl’s cabin like a black ops
team—single file and silent. Carefully, we take turns checking behind each
door, and shower curtain, to make sure we’re completely alone before we start
to cover each and every surface of their cabin with long, white sheets of
toilet paper.

Holding
onto the thin paper at one end, I take the thick roll and toss it up and over
the ceiling fan. Gravity does its job by bringing it careening back to the
ground and leaving a twelve foot high streamer in its wake. I tear off the roll
and repeat. Tossing it up and over, again and again, until all four blades of
the ceiling fan are draped in dozens of long streamers, twirling around at a
dizzying rate.

I
glance around the room, impressed with how almost every visible surface in the
small log cabin is covered in big white loops of paper strung between bunks,
around dressers, and even wrapped around each individual bed.

In
the far corner, a pair of bright white tennis shoes smudged with reddish-brown
dirt—from tripping over third base—sit next to a bunk made up with a pale pink
comforter covered in even paler pink flowers and a picture of Emily and Kat
taped to the headboard.

Emily’s
bed.

Expecting
something bold and bright, like the red tips of Emily’s hair on the first night
we met, I’m surprised, at first, her bedding is such a delicate shade of pink.
That is until I think about the light and airy girl from Team White I’ve gotten
to know over the last few weeks and I smile, realizing the girl I have fallen
for is the perfect mix of both.

But
while she might be pink, tonight, her bed is going to be white.

I
grab several rolls of toilet paper and begin to wrap Emily’s bed like a mummy,
until it’s completely covered, except for her pillow.

“Looks
good, Ty,” Andy says, checking out my handy work as he finishes hanging
streamers off of the lamps and lighting fixtures along the walls.

“Almost,”
I say, picking up Emily’s pillow to complete the job and accidently scattering
sheets of light pink paper across the ground at my feet.

I
snatch up the pages of stationary, covered in big loopy girl cursive, and begin
to stack them back together when I see my name in big bold letters underlined
multiple times on the first page. I know I should slip the note back under her
pillow and walk away, but the fact Emily’s writing about me causes my face to
break into a smile, and I can’t stop my eyes from passing over the short
sentences.

 

Update-
Sneaking out was a fail. Got caught. By Tyler. And then we both got caught by
Walter Robbins, the camp’s owner! But Mr. Goodie two-shoes came up with some
excuse for us being out so late, and we didn’t get in trouble at all! UGH!  But
I’m not giving up.

Maybe
I’ll use Tyler to get kicked out…breaking the fraternization rule might be a
fun way to go.☺

 

And
just like that—I lose my breath.

Emily
is using me to get kicked out of camp.

I
drop the letter on her bunk, the last few weeks of flirty banter, late night
rendezvous, and close calls flash behind my eyes. I shake my head.

It
was all a game to her.

And
I got played.

 

Chapter
23

Emily

 

“Hey,
Slugger,” I call to Tyler, limping to catch up with him after breakfast,
concerned why he never showed up to the campfire last night even though the
rest of his cabin did. “Hey,” I say again, reaching out and touching his arm to
slow him down, which it does, but only slightly. “I missed you last night. What
happened? Why didn’t you come down after we saw you on the trail?”

“Uh,
just tired I guess.” Tyler shrugs before picking up the pace again, his head
down and jaw tight as he makes his way towards the baseball fields.

I
furrow my brows. Too tired?

“Let
me guess…you were too tired from toilet papering my cabin to come down.” I
smile, expecting Tyler to do the same, confirming with a simple grin it
was
his cabin that tp’d us, but instead he scowls, which throws me off. I’ve never
seen him so much as frown since the day we met.

He
couldn’t actually be mad Team White won the color war because I stole his flag,
right? Right?

“You’re
not mad at me are you?” I ask as I pick up my speed to keep up with him—despite
the shooting pain running up my leg since I left my stupid crutches in the
dining hall after Tyler jetted.

Tyler
pauses almost imperceptibly, before continuing up the trail, the muscles in his
jaw flexing so hard, he’s either biting his tongue or forcibly keeping his
mouth shut.

“I’m
serious. Is everything okay?” I ask, unsure what’s going on, but starting to
really worry as we pass by a group of guys kicking a soccer ball back and
forth.

Tyler
eyes the group until they’re finally out of earshot. “I don’t know, Emily—but
right now isn’t the time,” he says under his breath, his tone telling me all I
need to know. Something is definitely wrong, and by the way he spit my name,
it’s pretty clear I have something to do with it.

My
heart is beating quicker than Tyler’s footsteps up the trail when I stop, cross
my arms, and dig in my heels. He might think this isn’t the time, but right now
is as good as any. I have to know what’s going on with him. “What’s wrong?”

Tyler
takes a few more steps before coming to a stop himself, the trail deserted
except for the two of us now.

He
pulls in a deep breath through his nose before he shoves his hands in his
pockets and turns to face me.

“What’s
going on with us?” he asks abruptly, his question coming so out of left field
it takes me by complete surprise.

“Us?”
A slow smile spreads across my face, liking the way that sounds. “Why?”

“Because
last night—”

I
choke out a laugh before he can even finish. “Is that what this is about?” I
can’t help but smile. “Yes, I chased Todd around the campfire last night, but
it was to smear marshmallow goo on his face after he wiped melted chocolate on
mine. It’s not like we were flirting or anything, Jenny and Andy got in on it,
too. We were all a sticky mess.”

Glancing
around to make sure no one is heading up or down the trail, I step close enough
to brush my hand down his arm until our hands touch. “You’re not jealous, are
you?” I tease, then lift up on my toes to sneak in a quick kiss, relieved it
was all just a misunderstanding.

Tyler
drops my hand and takes a step back, his eyes narrowing. “Can you be serious
for a second? I’m not kidding—what’s going on with us?”

The
smile falls from my lips at the unexpected sharpness in his tone.
“I…uh…thought…we were having fun, I guess.” I shift uncomfortably under his
stare.

Tyler’s
lips press together into a tight line, causing his jaw muscles to pulse again.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says, turning around and taking a few steps
up the trail before stopping and facing me again. “You know what, Emily? It’s
all fun and games until someone gets hurt.”

Before
I can muster up a thought, let alone a response, he spins around—hiding what
looks like a mixture of anger and sadness on his face—and leaves me standing
shell-shocked and alone.

What.
The. Hell?

My
mind races with unanswered questions as I wander back to my cabin in a daze. I
replay yesterday over and over, trying to pinpoint what happened to cause Tyler
to act that way, but I come up short.

When
I finally get back to the cabin—still covered in mounds of toilet paper—I fall
onto my bed, and stare up at the ceiling as his question swirls around in my
mind faster than the streamer covered fan above me. ‘What’s going on with us?’

My
chest aches as I consider the answer I gave him. Maybe I should have told him
the truth—that it’s more than just fun for me and that I’m falling for
him—because maybe that’s what he needed to hear.

“Mail
call,” Jenny says, pulling me from my scattered thoughts as she walks into the
cabin with a handful of letters and a small box tucked under her arm. She waves
a postcard in the air before tossing it to me like a Frisbee.

The
front is a picture of the ocean with a tall white lighthouse sitting at the end
of a sandy peninsula. Greetings from Martha’s Vineyard printed across the top.
Martha’s Vineyard? Who do I know from there?

I
flip the postcard over and I’m surprised to see Kaitlin’s chicken-scratch on
the back.

 

Hi
Friend,

You’ll
never guess where I am. Just kidding, the postcard pretty much gives it away,
but I bet you’ll never guess with who...Pete! (Maybe that’s not such a stretch,
either.)

Anyhow,
Pete got me a job as the towel girl at this swanky country club he valets cars
at for the summer and it has been so much fun.

We
rented a small shack on the beach with like twelve other people we work with
and every night is a nonstop party.

I
miss you so much and I’m sorry it took me so long to write. I bet you’ve
wondered why I haven’t responded to any of your letters yet. I told my mom to
mail them to me here, but she still hasn’t. Grrr!

We’ll
be here for the rest of the summer, so start sending them to this address.
Okay?! How’s Todd-the-bod? And Lucy? (Say hi to her for me, btw) And how’s your
little plan going? If you get sprung, come to the Vine and see me!

Xoxo

K

 

I
fall back on my pillow, imagining the fun Kaitlin is having, and realize I’m
having the time of my life, too. At camp. With Tyler. Or, at least I was.

“Oh,
Emily, you have one more.” Jenny drops another letter on my bed before plopping
down on her own bunk and opening the box she received.

I
flip the envelope over and a knot twists in my stomach. It’s from home.

Swallowing
hard, I try to stamp down my nerves because they never write, but it’s useless.
I’m freaked out. They always send a care package before second session begins,
and of course on the one phone day we have each session, they are always quick
to pick up the call, but they never write. Ever.

I
tear open the envelope and pull out a light yellow card with painted
butterflies fluttering above a field of wildflowers. Summery and happy. I brace
myself for the opposite to be inside.

 

Hi
honey,

I
hope you’re having fun at camp. We miss you very much.

We
wanted to let you know we’re going to come up for visitor’s day. We have
something important to talk with you about.

See
you soon.

Love,

Mom

 

They’re
coming to visitor’s day? They haven’t done that since I was in middle school.

A
lump forms in my throat as tears pool up and threaten to pour over. I gave up
my plan to get kicked out of camp and it happened. Just like I knew it would.

They’re
getting divorced and it’s all my fault.


“Good
morning, campers,” Walter and Gale’s overly cheery voices blare over the camp
PA system, jolting me awake.

My
eyes, heavy from tossing and turning all night, squint against the bright
morning sun blasting through the windows. I bury my head under my pillow to
drown out the sound and the light, but it doesn’t work.

“Today
is camp clean up day!” Walter says excitedly, earning a chorus of huffs, moans,
and cusswords—and not just from me. “So, let’s rise and shine and get Camp
Champ ready for our guests!”

Ugh.
I dig deeper beneath my covers, and hope I can use my ankle as an excuse to
stay in bed all day and wallow like I did yesterday after mail call. Wallow
about my parents. About Tyler. About everything.

“Do
we have to?” someone whines from across the room, taking the words right out of
my mouth. “Why should I have to spend my free day cleaning up when no one’s
coming to visit me?” the girl says, but her voice is too muffled for me to
figure out who’s talking.

I
roll over and shove the pillow off my face, and see it’s Sara, with her hands
on her hips. She stares at Jenny for an answer. 

I
only wish having to clean all day for no one to come visit me was my problem.
I’d like to tell her it’s better than spending all day cleaning just to have
your parents come to announce they’re splitting up. I bite my tongue and keep
my snark to myself because it’s not her fault. It’s mine.

“I
know it sucks, ladies, but let’s get out there and show the rest of the camp
how Team White rolls,” Jenny claps, reminding me how little I like morning
people, “and try to have some fun while you’re at it.”

Fun?

Fun
worrying about why Tyler’s acting so weird, or whose house I’ll stay at when
I’m home for breaks from college?

“Hey.”
Jenny nudges the edge of my bed with her knee, jostling me, as she snatches up
Kaitlin’s postcard from my bedside table. She flips it over and then back again
before setting it down, picture side up, and looking far less chippy than just
seconds ago. “Tyler asked me at the counselor campfire last night to tell you
Doc needs to see you today—a follow up on your ankle or something.”

“Tyler
was there last night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Jenny
furrows her brows. “Yeaaaah,” she says, drawing out the word to make it sound
more like a question than an answer.

Quickly
realizing I sound like a nervous girlfriend keeping tabs on her man, I try and
play it off. “Was Lucy and Dave there, too? And Todd?” I toss out, trying to
cover all my bases.

“Yeah,
Lucy and Dave were there.” Jenny crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she
looks me over. “But Todd was only there for a little bit, he left early.”

“Uh…too
bad my ankle was killing me. It sounds like I missed everyone,” I say
nonchalantly, before tossing off my covers. “Maybe I’ll make it tonight.” I
grab my shower caddy and shoes and pad off to the shower where I’m able to take
a deep breath away from her uncomfortable stare.

The
last thing I need is Jenny getting the idea Tyler and I are anything more than
just friends. That is—if we still are.

Freshly
showered but still unhappily awake, I snatch up the crutches Sara managed to
grab from where I left them in the dining hall yesterday morning and make my
way to Doc’s office.

With
the swelling down, and the bruise already turning from a scary bluish-purple
shade to a gross, but obviously healing, yellowish-green color, I wonder what
Doc needs to look at considering he didn’t even need me to come in for a follow
up for my concussion.

I
pop my head into Doctor Newton’s office when I get to the nurses’ station, but
it’s empty, so I limp down the hall to the open exam room door where I can hear
the crinkly sound of fresh paper being pulled down over the exam table.

“You
wanted to see me?” I ask, rounding the corner and then stopping short when it’s
Tyler I find.

My
heart starts to race, remembering the last time we were in this tiny room
alone, and I’m glad the stethoscope he’s got around his neck isn’t anywhere
near my heart—otherwise he’d know exactly what the sight of him does to me.

I
let my eyes fall to the ground, unsure what to say and even more unsure what to
do since the last time we saw each other my heart rate spiked as well. But in a
completely different way. And not the good kind.

“Hi,”
he says softly, his tone so different from yesterday I let my eyes rise and
meet his.

“Hi.”
I shift uncomfortably. “Um…Jenny said Doc wanted to see me?”

Tyler
moves around me and glances into the hall before shutting the door to the small
room with a quiet click. I turn to face him and a shiver runs down my spine at
our bodies being just inches apart.

Tyler
lifts his hands and pushes them into my hair so gently it’s like a rush of air
blowing by. “Doc didn’t want to see you, I did.”

He
keeps his eyes locked on mine—searching for what, I don’t know—before letting
out a small breath, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine.

Other books

The Very Thought of You by Rosie Alison
Checkmate by Steven James
Roboteer by Alex Lamb
The Bride Collector by Ted Dekker
Emako Blue by Brenda Woods
Rose Cottage by Mary Stewart
Lives We Lost,The by Megan Crewe
Gabriel's Horses by Alison Hart
Blind Submission by Debra Ginsberg