Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(80)

“Phoebe, are you paying attention?”

I looked up sharply to see Dev gesturing at one of the campers who was trying to position herself on the crawling rope bridge.

“Sorry.” I reached out to steady the two ropes that hung in parallel above the small creek and almost jostled the camper still making his way across. Smooth.

That camper climbed off of the bridge and threw a dirty look my way before high-fiving Dev and heading off to join his classmates in the next challenge.

The girl on my bank, watching the whole exchange, looked at me with a little bit of fear before starting to cross. While I was useless and a potential danger to them, Dev was so good with the kids, encouraging them and treating them as if they were the same age as us. The guys fist-bumped him as soon as they reached the other side, the girls blushed and giggled as he reached out and lifted them off of the ropes and onto solid ground. He really was a little bit like Evan from Cradled. Actually, a lot, if Evan played clarinet and didn’t farm and was Indian instead of ScotchCanadian. The absolutely perfect love interest.

“Last one!” Dev called out as I steadied the ropes for one of the boys.

“Thank goodness.” As soon as the camper was most of the way across the creek, I stood and checked behind me. He was right, no more campers. “What was that supposed to teach them, anyway? How to get muddy?”

Dev glanced up from his clipboard with barely concealed amusement on his face. “Concentration and balance. It’s really not bad. Haven’t you ever gone across a two rope bridge before?” In the noon sunlight, his teeth were bright white against his tanned skin, already darker from our days outside.

I looked down. The dirt that had collected on my sneakers became endlessly fascinating. “Uh, no. I got ‘sick’ when we had to do it in sixth grade and skipped to the next obstacle.”

His grin grew wider. “Well, we have a few minutes before they expect us at the mess. Give it a try.”

I stared in horror at him. “No.”

“I tried archery.”

The heat rose again in my cheeks as the memory came rushing back. “Well, that’s different. You can’t get hurt doing archery.”

“Tell that to my arm. That string hurt.”

“Wimp.”

He bounced the ropes in a way that was probably supposed to make them look inviting. “I know you’ll regret it if you don’t try. Do it for me?” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made me want to giggle.

His grey-green eyes caught mine and I sighed. Why was it that I could never say no to this guy?

“Fine.” I eyed the bridge warily. The ropes were low, like floppy parallel bars close to water that had mostly churned to a few inches of pure mud at this point. I bent over, getting a closer-than-usual whiff of the earthy decaying plant smell of the creek. “Seriously, Dev, I don’t know about this...”

“C’mon. It’s easier than starting a fire.”

“Ha. Very funny, Nature Boy.” But as I spoke, I leaned over until I was almost horizontal to the creek. I arranged myself on top of the ropes the same way we had taught the kids, those two ropes the only things between me and an instant soaking. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath—I was Maeve, strong and beautiful and, just like in Chapter Thirty of Glittering, ready to face anything.

“You know, you have to move if you want to make it across the bridge,” Dev called out with a chuckle.

“I was just getting my balance.” I said before starting to pull myself across the bridge. I got about a yard in before the ropes wobbled under me, and my leg splashed into the creek, water seeping into my sneaker. “Oh, frak!”

“Frak? Do you ever actually curse?”

I looked up at him with a grimace. The water actually felt slimy. “I say frak all the time.”

He coughed, but I could tell he was covering up a laugh. “That’s not a curse. That’s a Battlestar Galactica reference.”

“Well, frak you.”

That time, he did laugh. “You’re doing okay. Just wrap that leg back onto the rope and keep going.” I looked up. He had crouched down on his side of the creek, his hands held out encouragingly, as if he could pull me across with the sheer force of his will.

I grit my teeth and pulled myself back onto the two ropes. Eleven year olds had gotten across this thing with only a splash or two and I had almost six years on them. I could totally do it. My arms burned as I tried to drag myself forward in the weird froggy-crawly motion Dev had used in his demo. Another half a yard and the ropes unbalanced and twisted again, flipping me over so I landed directly under them, butt-deep in muddy water. A choked, almost laugh-like sound came from the opposite bank, but when I checked, Dev still had that serious, supportive expression on his face.

I was wet and soggy from head to toe. My counselor polo was spattered with mud and clung in an unflattering way to my chest. My one pair of cute jeans was now covered in a layer of mud. I had to be honest with myself—even if Dev could see past my knitting stuff, the geekiness, and the whole book thing, how I looked at this moment was probably just icing on the cake. I should have gotten up, walked away, and tried to preserve a scrap of my dignity, but then a little laugh bubbled up in me. The universe really had a sick sense of humor.

Dev’s brows were drawn together in confusion and worry. “Are you okay over there? Do you need me to help you up?”