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Authors: J. K. Rock

Tags: #Romance, #Camp Boyfriend

Camp Boyfriend (4 page)

BOOK: Camp Boyfriend
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Being a gridiron hero counted for something in this town. Matt’s father still used footage from when he won the state championship in an ad for his car dealership.

“I need a break.” Matt shook his head. “Playing three sports means I’m in training all the time. And I’ve done it because he’s always expected me to. But this summer, I just want time to—get away from him. From everything.”

My heart pounded harder. A vague unease made me shift uncomfortably beside him.

“What do you mean?”

Matt tipped his forehead to mine. “I’m going to Camp Juniper Point with you.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he was so happy and oblivious that he took it as an invitation. He leaned in to kiss me while I shook in panic. Matt was coming to camp with me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

How would I explain this to Seth?

For that matter, how would I make Seth my boyfriend for real when I’d be showing up at camp with another guy?

Suddenly, helping with Kellianne’s wedding felt like a cakewalk compared to the hell that waited for me in North Carolina next week.

Chapter Three

The smells of evergreen, spruce, and pine drifted through the bus window, surrounding me like a favorite song. I inhaled and leaned away from the sculpted arm Matt had draped around my neck. His large hand dropped to my shoulder and pulled me back against the vinyl seat, trapping me in my role as his girlfriend.

Un-freaking-real
.

Between Kellianne’s non-stop errands, and Matt’s trips to the lawyers’ offices for custody statements, and shopping expeditions to buy camp supplies, we’d barely seen each other. I hadn’t had a chance to warn him about Seth and now it was nearly too late.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here.” Matt’s sparkling eyes reflected the setting sun. I couldn’t believe it either. After enduring a week as Kellianne’s wedding slave, a rerouted five-hour flight that took us to the airport in Charlotte instead of the one in Asheville, and an hour-long wait for the camp shuttle bus, it had seemed like we’d never make it. And I’d started thinking that might be a good thing.

How could I avoid hurting Matt and be with Seth? Or help Matt settle into camp without causing Seth pain? If Hercules had had a thirteenth task, this would have been it. Impossible.

“Welcome to Nantahala National Forest.” I pointed to a large wooden sign engraved with gold-painted letters, the last of the sun reflecting on the metallic finish. As we turned onto a smaller route, the bus lurched. Or was that my stomach? The shadowed blue-green summits of the Appalachian’s Smoky Mountains loomed in the distance –Tennent, Cold, and Toxaway, I recalled, having hiked them all. A familiar red barn flanked by a weeping willow and grazing chestnut horses told me Camp Juniper Point was less than fifteen minutes away.

“Beautiful,” Matt murmured in my ear before nibbling it. I pushed him away, pretending to be playful but feeling serious. Arriving at camp late, with a stylish look, designer gear, and a hot new boyfriend would put me on the diva list. And prima donnas at camp were as annoying as mosquitoes, at least to my friends and Seth.

Now, playing the role of Jessica…Lauren Carlson.

The bus engine whined as the driver downshifted to slow our momentum. He could have come to a full stop and I would have cheered at the delay. Just as I opened my mouth to tell Matt about Seth, two white-tailed deer emerged into the dwindling light from a thick mass of roadside brush.

Matt nearly bounced off the seat. “I should have brought my rifle! Did you see that?”

His excitement faded at my expression.

“We don’t shoot near camp.” It felt right saying “we” since Seth agreed with me on this. An avid outdoorsman, he excelled at any
Survivor
-style events our counselors dreamed up, from hiking to hut-building. And if he’d ever needed to survive in the wild, he’d use a bow, not a gun.

Matt’s frown made me feel guilty for counting all the things I preferred about Seth. But there wasn’t any comparison between the two, and I was long overdue to be straight with him.

I wrapped my fingers around Matt’s broad hand. “Matt—”

He squeezed my hand. “I can’t wait to have fun. The only thing that’s helped this week is knowing I’d get to be with you. This couldn’t be more perfect.”

My courage waved a white flag and surrendered. Matt had gone through a tough week and was finally happy. I hated to ruin it. I’d tell him once we reached camp—let him enjoy this good mood a little longer.

“You’ll have fun here.” I tightened my fingers around his. “There’s an awesome volleyball tournament that runs all camp season.” He excelled at every sport he tried. “It’s more cutthroat than Crash at last year’s championship game.”

Matt shuddered against me, no doubt picturing Crash’s perp walk like I was. Who knew selling ex-lax laced brownies to the opposition would be considered criminal mischief? At the time, it’d just seemed like payback after our rivals branded our mascot Jefferson, a two-thousand pound bull, with their ram’s-head logo. My lips quirked as I tried to suppress a laugh and failed. Matt responded with a deep chuckle that intensified when I couldn’t stop giggling. The bus driver’s eyes flashed at us in his rearview mirror.

“Do you remember Crash’s excuse?” Matt choked out.

“‘But officer, I thought they looked constipated,’” we chorused, sending us into another laughing fit. The driver cranked up the radio and shifted to ascend another slope. Spruce trees lined the shoulder, their needles looking like they’d been dipped in powder-blue dye.

Matt shook his head. “Man, Crash can be such a moron.”

I stopped snickering. He always acted like he thought Crash, and his goons walked on water. Where had this new attitude come from?

Matt leaned forward. “Hey—isn’t that the sign for your camp?”

A forest-green sign loomed. I squinted in the dim light and made out a painted conifer-lined river and the words, “Camp Juniper Point.”

My heart sped up even as my stomach dropped. My hands clenched, Matt’s fingers getting caught in the involuntary motion.

“Ouch!” Matt joked, untangling his hand from mine and shaking it.

He couldn’t have said it better. Arriving at camp
would
cause lots of pain. Hopefully, Seth wouldn’t see Matt until we’d spoken. Knowing we weren’t a couple was one thing—but seeing me with another guy would hurt him even more.

After the night at the creek, and Matt’s surprise news, I’d finally answered Seth’s message.

Looking forward to seeing you at the bonfire too
.

My finger hovered as I’d stared at my response, rereading the coded break-up message Seth wouldn’t fail to miss. We’d known each other so long. By not mentioning our First Kiss of Camp, he’d understand that things were different. But just in case, my hands had returned to the keyboard as I contemplated how to explain that I was bringing another boy to camp, one I was dating but didn’t love. Not the way I cared about Seth.

But Kellianne had burst in the room, impatient for us to make her fitting, and hit the send button for me, sending our relationship to its electronic death. With one push of a button, we’d returned to the friend zone and Seth was still in the dark about Matt. It didn’t surprise me that he hadn’t emailed back. Seth took time to process things. And I knew better than to force him. Hopefully, by giving him space this week, he’d hear me out in person.

“You ready?” Matt rubbed my knee as we bumped down the dirt road that led to camp.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Which is to say—not at all
.

* * *

“That’s the last of ‘em.” The bus driver tossed a heavy duffle bag at Matt, lumbered up to his seat, and drove off in a cloud of choking dust.

“Where is everyone?” Matt squinted in the twilight as he shouldered his bag and picked up my suitcases. “Are we the first ones here?”

“Hardly.” I led him up the path toward the office, the stone pavers painted with handprints the camp had created during my first year. Along the left side of the path, the chubby yellow fingers of seven-year-old me were on a stone decorated with a lopsided yellow star and blobby blue planets that resembled squashed berries. I skimmed my foot along it as we passed by, and smiled at my early astronomy aspirations.

“The rest of the camp probably arrived at dawn. It’s always a race to get the best bunk.”

Matt pointed to a large, pine-sided building bathed in soft amethyst light. “Is that one of the cabins?”

I laughed. “That’s the field house. It’s where we play all kinds of sports, even fencing. Our cabins are a lot smaller. Do you know which one you’re in?” I nearly tripped over an exposed root, worried that it might be “The Wander Inn,” Seth’s cabin.

“I think it’s called War or Warrior something.”

My breath whooshed out. Of course Matt would be assigned to the jock cabin. “Warriors’ Warden?”

“That’s it.” Matt stopped beside our baseball field. “Whoa, you guys have everything.”

He dropped our bags and laced his fingers in the chain-link backstop.

“It’s called the Field of Dreams.” I leaned against the cold, crisscrossing metal, amazed at how four bases and a dirt mound gave guys heart palpitations.

Seth had hit one out on this field last year, and I’d been there to cheer him on. God, I needed to tell Matt about him…

“Matt. I’m really glad you’re here but there’s something I’ve got to tell you—”

A shrill sound blasted behind us, making us jump and turn. Camp Director Frank Woodrow, otherwise known as Gollum for his sneaky ways and a whistle obsession so insane we’d dubbed it His Precious, glowered at us. He blew it once more before polishing it on his shirt and tucking it away.

“What are you doing here, sneaking around?” he snapped, wielding his flashlight like a lightsaber.

I could have asked him the same question. Then again, professional “fun sucker” was part of his job description, “gotcha” his middle name. Sometimes I wondered if Gollum hibernated all winter, then emerged from his cave for summer camp, grumpy as a newly woken bear.

“We just arrived, Mr. Woodrow.” I moved closer. “This is my—ah—boyfriend, Matt Butler. He’s new this year.”

Matt flashed his company grin and extended a hand. Gollum’s long nostrils pinched as he ignored Matt and narrowed his close-set eyes at me.

“And who exactly are you, missy? Trespassers face serious consequences.” His hand twitched toward his whistle pocket. Who was he going to summon? A goblin army? His mother?

I spoke fast, hoping to avoid another eardrum-shattering blast. “I’m Lauren Carlson. I’ve been coming here for eight years now. Don’t you recognize me?” My eyes stung as his flashlight blazed in my face once more.

Gollum shook his bald head, eyes widening behind thick black frames. “Impossible. Where are your glasses? Braces?”

Matt chucked me under the chin. “Hey, I want pictures of that girl.” He grinned. “For blackmail purposes, of course.”

I elbowed him, annoyed rather than charmed. Seth never teased me about my looks. Even if it was a joke, it still stung.

“I got rid of them when I left camp last year, Mr. Woodrow. But it’s still me.” At least, I hoped so.

Gollum pursed his mouth, his overgrown moustache looking like it had eaten his upper lip. “All right then. Matt, follow me and I’ll get you set up. Lauren, I trust you know the way and won’t fall off a cliff.” He chuckled at his reference to the time I’d tumbled off an overlook with a little help from our camp’s queen of mean, Hannah Trudeau.

Matt looked over his shoulder as the camp director steered him northward, to the corner of camp farthest from the girls’ section. Did they really think the distance kept the campers from hooking up? It was like separating a pair of oversized magnets. We couldn’t resist the pull, no matter how hard they tried keeping us apart.

I picked up my luggage and watched Matt disappear into the deepening gloom, hating myself for not warning him about Seth. I couldn’t let him hear the news before I got the chance to tell him myself.

At least I still had time to sneak in a quick visit with Seth—if he was still talking to me after that short email. He deserved a warning as much as Matt did.

I broke into a trot, anxious to get to my cabin, “Munchies’ Manor,” and drop off my stuff. If I could explain to Seth in person, maybe he’d understand and agree to wait for me until I had a chance to talk to Matt. I needed to be honest with both of them.

A part of me hoped he’d insist that I break up with Matt right away. Or maybe I kind of hoped he’d confront Matt himself and set the record straight—that Seth and I belonged together. Since I hated conflict even more after a year of Mom and Kellianne’s pre-wedding battles and Dad’s full-on retreat, I needed help from my camp friends to figure out how to handle my Matt situation.

My foot had barely grazed the first porch step of my cabin before a willowy blonde in her mid-twenties sprang from the door. An overhead lamp backlit her long messy curls, held back with an enormous, glittering clip that could have doubled as a disco ball.

“What’s up, home girl!” I caught a flash of rainbow-striped leg warmers as she sped down the stairs. Before I could move, a tight hug lifted me off the ground.

I was speechless in the face of such enthusiasm.

“I’m Emily, your new counselor.” The blonde pulled back slightly, her nose nearly touching mine. “And you must be Lauren. I mean, you have to be since you’re like the last person here and everything.”

Suddenly I remembered my previous counselor’s trip to Ireland this summer for a step-dancing competition. Emily must have taken her place. I didn’t know what to make of our new counselor. Between the leg warmers, hair clip and an oversized neon Swatch watch, she looked like she’d crawled out of an Eighties time capsule. And she was touchy-feely times ten. She grabbed one of my bags and started back up the stairs.

“It sucks being the last one. You get the worst bunk and everyone takes up your space and talks about you behind your back, right?” Her huge smile flashed, showing a little too much gum.

I smiled back weakly and followed her, trying not to notice the Smurfette-patterned thong peeking over her lime-green biker shorts.

BOOK: Camp Boyfriend
7.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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