“Mom, where exactly would I have seen that? I’m in the middle of nowhere with next to no service trying to keep twenty kids safe,” I say with a huff. I’m not surprised that’s what he’s doing and the way it doesn’t tear me up immediately is liberating. I wouldn’t go so far to say I hope they have a nice time, but I’m perfectly happy where I am.
“I don’t know what you do with your time, Aurora. You don’t tell me anything. I really do need to go, it’s time for Cat to have his dinner.”
“You called him Cat?”
“What else was I supposed to call him? He’s a cat. Goodbye, darling. Don’t forget to call again.”
I walk back to where everyone is watching a film in a daze and by the time Emilia and Xander are rounding up the Brown Bears for bed, I still haven’t processed my mom replacing me with a stolen cat.
Temporary respite from my mom’s attention happens occasionally when she finds a new interest. Wine tasting, Pilates, a property developer called Jack—but never a pet. As weird as it is, I’m kind of happy she isn’t in that house alone anymore.
“What if I just sleep in your bed, with you?” I ask Emilia.
“What if you just sleep in your bed, alone?” she counters. There are two bedrooms attached to the kids cabin for the counsellors doing night duty and as spacious as the kids area is, the same cannot be said for the adjoining rooms. “It’s a storm. You’ll survive. You know what I won’t survive? Sharing that tiny bed with you.”
“You can sleep in the world’s tiniest bed with me, Ror,” Xander teases. “I volunteer because I’m such a good friend.”
I roll my eyes at him, knowing full well if I ever took him up on that offer, he would run for the hills. “Hard pass, but thanks.”
It was here during a particularly bad storm that my fear started. Dry lightning caused a wildfire not far from Orla’s land and we almost needed to be evacuated. Thankfully, the fire service got it under control. I was so young and ever since then, they’ve always freaked me out.
I’m helping Freya into her raincoat when the doors open and Russ strolls through them in sweatpants and a Brown Bear sweatshirt. He shakes the rain from his hair and scans the room, his eyes eventually landing on me. He smiles as soon as he spots me and I can’t stop the wide grin on my face. God, I need to get a grip. Freya coughs loudly, dragging my attention back to her. “Is Russ your boyfriend?”
If this is Leon bullshit again, I swear he’s going to get locked outside next time I’m on night duty. “No. He is a boy who is a friend. He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Then why do you always spend your days off together?”
“Do you like spending your time with your friends?” I ask her, pulling her hood over her brown curls. “Because I do and that’s why I spend my days off with them.”
“I’m not a baby you know,” she says, “and I can keep a secret.”
“There aren’t any secrets here, silly girl. Now, go and get into the line please.”
“Okay,” she says, a hint of defeat in her voice. “But Russ looks at you the way my dad looks at my papa when he isn’t looking, so I think he might love you.”
“Goodnight, Freya,” I groan.
It’s an unwritten rule at camp that you will be terrorized by your campers about potential love interests. I know that because I was once the person doing all the terrorizing.
The smart thing to do is forget about it, because who would trust the opinion of a small child? And yet here I am, wondering exactly how Freya’s dads look at each other.
Thankfully, no other kids decide to pry into my life and Russ stays far enough away from me that he doesn’t give Leon and his rumor mill any more material. I haven’t seen Russ since our almost-kiss, swiftly followed by running from the rain, earlier.
I really thought he was going to do it this time. We were so close and his hands on me felt right, but I suppose unlike me, he knows how to exercise restraint. I wasn’t expecting to have a wild summer filled with hook ups, for obvious reasons, but surely no one will die if we have one tiny little kiss.
If he wants to fuck me against a tree, I could also be convinced to get on board.
God, I wish I’d brought my vibrator.
“You look like you’re thinking hard about something,” Russ laughs, filling the empty spot beside me. “What’s up?”
“Forgot my vibrator.” I freeze on the spot and make the smart choice not to look at him and see the aftermath of my words. His ears are definitely pink, I don’t even need to look at him to check. I just know. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Want me to walk you back to your cabin?” he says, thankfully ignoring my comment. “The weather is crappy.”
“No, it’s okay,” I mumble, looking out at the black sky. “I’m going to hang out here until everyone goes to bed.”
“Do you mind if I stay too?”
“I’d really like it if you did.”
The thunder is louder in the cabin than it was in the movie room and I’m considering taking Xander up on his offer. Three-person night duty can become a thing, right?
I’ve tried music on my headphones. I’ve tried calming meditation. I’ve tried distracting myself with a book, but the weather is so bad, not even sexy billionaires with a theme park are enough to distract me. Every time the sky booms, I swear the cabin shakes. I’ve talked myself out of heading to Russ’s cabin three times. I was like someone from a movie when they stand up, walk to the door and put their hand on the handle, before dramatically shaking their head and walking away.
Nothing good can come from me heading over to see him—and yet the idea sticks. He can’t make the storm stop and I can’t get go into his cabin, so there’s no point me venturing out in the dark.
Knowing my luck, I’ll step outside and get struck by lightning.
I’m arguing with myself for the fourth time, when there’s a knock on the door. What are the chances that Russ has been having the same argument with himself? When he finally closes those final few inches and kisses me?
Pulling back the door, I realize the answer to that question is zero.
Zero chance.
“Wow, you two are messy,” Jenna complains, poking her head through the doorway. She looks at the clothes on the floor and frowns. “How do you guys move around in here?”
“Can I help you, Ms. Murphy?” I grumble, not even attempting to hide my disappointment that she isn’t a six-foot five hockey player with pretty blue eyes and a tendency to blush.
“Wow, she’s grumpy today. Still not over the storm thing, I see.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a flashlight. “In case the power goes out.”
The power might go out. Fantastic. “Remind me, why did I choose working for you over hanging out on a yacht or something equally douchey, but cool?”
“Because you love me,” she says proudly. “And sure, yachts are cool, but you ever had to deal with so much rainwater everywhere floods? You can’t get experiences like that in Dubai.”
“Living the dream, Jen.”
“You know it,” she grins. “Okay, you’re my last delivery. I’m going to bed because I don’t have to work tonight and this weather fucking sucks. Don’t stress, okay? It’ll be over by morning.”
When has telling someone not to stress ever helped them not stress? Climbing back into bed, I try again with the book before giving up after five minutes. For the first time in my life, I’m not feeling romance books.
As someone who’s perpetually single, I think it’s probably more shocking that I like them to begin with. It’s a bit of a conundrum now I think about it, how I have such faith in fictional happy endings, but have never considered what my own might look like.