Summer Heat (Cruel Summer #1)(2)

An epic way to let yourself down.

Straight lines, Marlon.

Two lines.

Three lines.

Four lines.

Don’t get grass on the cement, Marlon.

Ray and I? The princess and the pauper?

Unlikely.

I think we’d rather kill each other.





Four Years Later



I NERVOUSLY DRUMMED my fingernails against my denim-clad legs.

“I’m going to puke,” I announced.

Nya, my nanny/maid since childhood laughed to herself and pulled the town car around the corner and put it in park. “Just breathe.”

I hadn’t seen her in a year. The closer it seemed I got to her, the more excuses my parents made that she was too busy to see me. I knew the truth. My stomach knotted as I closed my eyes and drew air between my lips, air that smelled like memories, air that tasted like him. Always him.

“Better?”

“No.” I exhaled and opened my eyes. “But it was a nice try.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about.” Nya said with a smile. “It’s summer camp not rocket science. Work for two months and then—”

I tried to keep the tears in.

It didn’t work.

She was all I had.

Thinking about moving to LA without her just felt… wrong. On so many levels. She’d been the one to put Band-Aids over my scrapes when I was little. I still remember the song she used to sing to me when I was a baby and during college would use it as a way to keep my anxiety at bay. The Ukrainian words about protection and love.

Her precious baby.

Only I wasn’t hers.

I was theirs.

My parents.

But thinking about them just put me in a bad mood and I was already stressed out enough as it was. I wanted to do a good job. I wanted to prove I was worthy of drama camp.

And most of all, I wanted to impress the producers, directors, and agents who would be at our camp finale, watching and waiting to see if the counselors were able to put together a show worthy of Hollywood.

Summer Heat, Camp to the Stars wasn’t just a camp.

It was the camp you went to, to get seen.

And it wasn’t just campers.

The counselors also performed in the production.

Twenty-two of them had gone on to win Academy Awards later on in life, several others had won Emmy’s. It was a big deal.

Getting hired had been a nightmare. I half expected them to ask for my first born and a spleen.

“You think too much,” Nya said simply. “Just enjoy your two months. Oh, and could you do me a favor?”

“Sure.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for my brand-new Kate Spade, with the black and white polka dots and splashes of pink. It was a gift from my parents for graduating.

Well, it was the only one I would accept.

Since giving someone a brand-new G Wagon and a trip to Belize seemed like overkill.

Nya handed me a worn blue duffel bag. “Will you drop this off with Marlo?”

My ears started to ring as dread swept through my body. “Marlo? As in your Marlo?”

“Yours too.” She grinned.

Yup, definitely going to puke.

Marlo. The same Marlo that mowed our lawn? The same Marlo half the senior class cheated off of in order to pass calculus?

Marlo. The guy everyone made fun of because they were just that unhappy with their own measly lives.

Marlo.

Marlo, the guy I beat out for a scholarship.

A scholarship I deserved.

A scholarship I needed, since my parents refused to pay for me to major in drama.

It was me or him!

I groaned into my hands.

The same Marlo who saw me for me. Who I touched…

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

You know how people have enemies and then the people you know would drown you in a pool of your own blood if they had the chance? He was the latter. The one person who could ruin my day with a stare. The one person alive that could ruin my life by simply existing. The hate between us was thick.

And four years had probably done nothing but let it fester into this giant angry red boil that refused to pop.

“See you in two months!” Nya said cheerfully.

Wait, she was still here?

What had I been doing that whole time? Oh, right just envisioning this very uncomfortable situation where I’ll most likely start off on the wrong foot because I always did with Marlo. No matter what I did, I earned a judgmental sneer.

Shit.

How many shits was that now?

“Right.” I nodded numbly then opened my door and walked to the back of the car, Nya was out before I could tell her to stay in the driver’s seat. Maybe it was out of habit that she helped me — a huge part of me hoped it was garnered from some love or affection she had for me.

Wishful thinking probably.

“You be good.” She pinched my cheeks; her rouge lipstick made her lips stick out around her paper-thin skin and white long hair. “Make friends and try to enjoy life a little this summer.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Good girl.” She turned. “Oh!” Her fingers snapped in the air like she almost forgot to tell me something. “You may not recognize Marlo. He’s filled out a bit, spends his free time in the gym, says it feeds his rage.”