Say You Still Love Me(28)

It feels heavenly. “So, how do you get a job in here, anyway?” I don’t remember canteen being on the activities sheet.

“Seniority. It can get boring, but when it’s ninety-five degrees out and you’re not in the lake, you want to be in here.” Avery reaches behind her to grab a can of root beer. She takes a long draw from her straw as she eyes me, as if sizing me up. “Talk to Darian. There’s four of us taking turns in here, but she has a backup list. She might be willing to put you on it.” She hesitates. “Or, I could mention it to her when I see her next.”

“That’d be . . . great. Thanks.” I frown as I wonder why she’s being so nice to me, but quickly decide that it’s better than the alternative, whatever her motives may be. I grab my paper bag. “Enjoy the cool air. I’ll just be out there, dying in my own sweat.” I head for the door, my stomach beginning to flutter with anxious nerves at the thought of tracking down Kyle.

I’ve only seen him briefly since last night. The counselor meet ’n’ greet shut down promptly at nine forty-five. Counselors had just enough time to get back to their cabins and settle in, Darian’s curfew warning heeded. I crawled into my top bunk and expected to spend the night memorizing the knots in the pine boards above my head while obsessing over every little gesture, glance, and word exchanged between me and Kyle, but somehow drifted off to the rhythm of Christa’s soft snores.

Kyle didn’t make his grand appearance until the end of breakfast, sauntering in just long enough to throw a casual smile my way. Then he scooped up a bagel and orange juice, and strolled off with Eric at his side.

I haven’t seen him since and, even with that quick but obvious flirtation, I can’t help but wonder if he’s now avoiding me, if maybe he’s already lost interest.

The very thought threatens to sink my spirits.

“Hey!”

I glance back over my shoulder to find Avery grinning mischievously, showing off her perfectly straight, white teeth. “I’ll bet Christa told you that you’re not allowed to cut your T-shirt?”

“Um . . .” My wary eyes flitter between her face and the enormous silver blades of the scissors as she rounds the counter.

She laughs. “You look like you’re worried that I’m going to stab you.”

“Well . . . are you?” I ask pointedly.

“Relax. I’m not interested in Kyle anymore.”

I feel my shoulders sink with relief and a sheepish smile form. At least I wasn’t the only one sensing that awkwardness.

“Don’t move,” she murmurs, slipping her cool fingers beneath the collar of my T-shirt to pull the cotton away. She begins snipping.

I hesitate. “So, what happened with you and Kyle anyway?” What can she tell me about him that I haven’t heard yet?

Her eyes flicker to me a moment. “Nothing really . . . Summer ended. He went back home; I started college. He’s too young for me, anyway. It was fun, but that’s all you’ll get from Kyle. Fun.”

“So he’s a player?” My stomach turns queasy.

“No. Not that. At least, he wasn’t with me.” She tosses the bound cotton collar to the trash can and sets to work on my left sleeve. “He just won’t let you get too close.” She smiles secretly, snipping off my right sleeve. “But you’ll have lots of fun. There.” She steps back to admire her work. “Just tie the waist up and you might not die.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. “See you later.” I push through the canteen’s rickety door and am immediately hit with a blast of mid-morning heat.

Christa is loitering nearby, intently studying her clipboard.

I stifle my groan to offer, “Hey.” Great. Here we go . . .

Her chest puffs out with a deep breath. “Hi, Piper.” Lifting her chin, she strolls into the shop, offering me a tight-lipped smile as she passes, making no note of my deviant attire.

I frown curiously.

Until I hear her say, “I’m here to collect your count sheets.” The air-conditioning unit has switched off for the moment, allowing her voice to carry clearly through the thin walls and poorly sealed window.

A sinking feeling hits me as I realize that Christa must have been outside when we were talking about her.

Must have heard the less-than-kind words directed toward her.

I quickly trudge off, guilt swarming my conscience.




“Can I drive on the way back?” I grip the bar as we speed along the narrow gravel path, the golf cart bumping and jolting as Ashley manages to hit every pothole so far, and there aren’t that many to avoid.

“Didn’t you just get your license?”

“I’ve had mine longer than you’ve had yours!” It’s not a wonder she failed the driving test three times before finally passing just two weeks ago, something she admitted to with a sheepish grin as she jumped into the driver’s seat.

“Fine. We’ll switch when we get to—ahh!” She jams on the brake just as Eric jumps out from behind a thick crop of bush. “Are you crazy? I could have hit you!” she shrieks, her face flushing instantly.

“Ahoy, fair maidens!” he booms, stalking forward in an exaggerated stiff gait, waving a stick in the air. “I seek you now by order of . . .” He falters. “Maximus Decimus Meridius to commandeer said fine vessel hence forth.”