“Ignore my dumbass friend.” Dutch elbowed Brecken. “He’s a little um, preoccupied right now.”
“She wants to know about the Hatchet House, Dutch. You should go ahead and tell her. It’s not like she won’t find out,” Darcy cackled again, in that obnoxious voice.
“Shut up.” The cut of his brown eyes shut her down this time. He turned his attention back to me as I chewed another bite of meatloaf. “So Lexie…you should hang out tonight with us. We’ve got this little tradition out on the docks during the brats’ campfire night. It’s an invitation-only party. Really laid back.”
Dutch casually touched my shoulder as he talked. His fingers slid down my arm, ending with an accidental boob brush. I couldn’t help but smile at the innocence he tried to project from his brown eyes.
Dutch was good at blatant flirting while shuffling it behind a slow, rugged smile, which reminded me of a California beach version of James Franco. Charisma and charm are not just acquired; people like Dutch are just born with it. So was another person I knew. I swallowed, blocking out the thought.
“So um, who goes to the docks?” The question came as I scooted back into my own personal space. I wondered if this was an actual party or a private invite to get me alone.
“Brecken, Darcy, and few others.”
“I don’t know. I’m not much of a water person.”
“Oh, we don’t get in the water.” Brecken perked up, his hazy smile buried beneath the brown whiskers on his face. “You have to come, Lexie. It’s what makes the summer with those little shits bearable.”
“He’s right, you know.” Dutch leaned in a little closer, resting a hand on the side of my chair. I felt the slight brush of his fingers against my bare thigh. They lingered just below the frayed denim. He smiled again and my stare dropped to his lips.
“Ok…I’ll come.” I took his hand off my leg, but Dutch held onto my fingers. His arched eyebrows dared me to pull away. Charming bastard, I almost laughed in his face.
I knew of guys like Dutch. The type that left you saying, what the hell just happened? The only difference; I never had one set his sights on me. I was an average tomboy, who was cursed with red hair and freckles. I guess camp made life an even playing field; everyone took a cold shower and wallowed around in the same dirt.
Dutch let go of my fingers and rested his hand on my inner thigh. It happened so fast, I wasn’t sure what to do. Darcy jumped up from the table and came around in my direction. She slapped his hand away from my leg.
“Stop touching her, you jackass. Come on, let’s get ready for the party.” She stood about five inches shorter than me. Linking an arm through mine, she pulled my taller body from the chair. She gave me no choice except follow her out the door.
Darcy pulled a pack of Virginia Slims from her shredded, ass-hugging shorts. She gestured in my direction but I gave a quick shake signaling no. In the night air, she blew out a cloud of smoke between us. She flicked the ash, with a half-interested gaze over my plain, gray t-shirt.
“Do I need to change for this party?” Not sure why I even threw out the question since each suitcase had more of the same.
“Nah. It’s on the docks. You're cute you know. In that natural way.”
“Ok?”
“He likes the cutesy, fresh ones.”
“Fresh?”
“Something new to catch his attention. Here's the deal, Lexie. I don't wanna get mixed up in whatever game he's runnin' with you.” Pulling in another drag, she blew a ring of smoke, filling my lungs with more second-hand cancer.
“I can’t tell if you like his bullshit or are just too naive to see it. Either way, Dutch is fun. Pulls you in real nice with all his little complements and smiles, makin’ you feel all hot and dazed. Then bam! Don't trust the bastard. Cute as a puppy then he sneaks up and bites your ass. Literally.”
“Thanks, I guess?”
“Should see your face.” Her quips of laugher propelled white clouds from her nostrils. “He's not actually going to put teeth marks on your butt. Well…I don't know. I haven't seen him since last summer. Who the hell knows what he's into these days.”
Her sharp-pitched cackles seemed out of place within the quiet camp grounds. Contemplating her warnings, I took the quips with a grain of salt. Besides, I had no intentions of having a torrid summer fling with any boy, let alone Dutch. My life was a complicated mess right now.
“So what’s this Hatchet House?”
“Oh hell, I might as well tell you. It’s a lawn shed about half a mile or so in the woods away from main grounds. It’s full of equipment and shit they want to keep away from the kids. The staff uses it for quick, ass-grabbin’ sex. Not much privacy in the bunks, you know. If you get asked up there, or I guess I should say when that bastard charms your cotton panties off. Better be damn flexible so you don’t touch anythin’. That place has more STDs than a sorority bitch on spring break.”
Darcy’s pulled in another drag, waiting for my reaction. The girl scared me a little, like an angry, fighting pit bull, latching on teeth and nails. The smoke blew out of her noise as she laughed. “I’m just messin’ with you.”
“People don’t hook up there?”
“Nah, they do. You’re just fun to talk to because I can’t shock many people anymore. You get this petrified look. Kinda fun.”
I trotted along beside Darcy. She took me to the back corner of the bunks. Under her bed, she pulled out a wood crate. My eyes grew wide seeing the contents inside.
“Now Lexie, if you’re plannin’ to come to these things, you’ll have to contribute. Can’t have you moochin’ on all the good stuff.”
“Ok,” I swallowed.
The party provided a glimpse into the darker and wilder side of camp. Rochellas was a college student’s hazy summer job and the worse nightmare of a camper's parents, if they knew the morality of those who cared for their precious, undisciplined offspring.
Seven of the staff met up on the docks to partake in a tub of hard liquor and large amount of pot, consumed in joints, as well as a few bongs. As it turns out, Brecken was preoccupied during our dinner in the mess hall. High as shit in the trees was the term Dutch used. He swore it was just a summer thing for most of them, except for Brecken.
As the newest invitee to the dock, I listened as the group swapped stories from past years. Brecken, who supervised archery, chose not to shower all summer. If you smelled like shit, the little shitters kept their distance. He used his idea to drive the campers away so he could sip on a flask and take midday naps against a tree.
I cringed, listening to Darcy’s story. Last summer the group had one party that got a little out of hand. The staff faced the next day hung over and irritable as hell. Darcy slipped the kids Benadryl, and then loaded them up on the boat for a ride out to the middle of the lake. She passed out across the steering wheel, nursing one hell of a hangover, while the kids took a nap on top of a pile of life jackets. They floated for hours, almost reaching the other side of the lake shore.
Darcy said something regarding Dutch, but Brecken shut her down fast. Actually, he gave her a slight push that ended with one big splash in the lake. She clawed up the side, pulling his lawn chair over backwards. Water sprayed up while angry words echoed from the black pool.
“That’s not fair, you know. I didn’t hear your worst camp story,” I teased Dutch, looking into his brown eyes. He leaned forward and kissed me instead of answering. His lips tasted slightly of bitter tea. It was different than kissing Jess; the confused thoughts drifted through my mind. It was different but good. I wanted Dutch to kiss me again because it was easy with him.