“You’re sure?” She’s all blush-y and lip bite-y.
“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in the mess hall before the campfire?” She twirls her ponytail around her finger.
“Sure thing.” He winks, and she practically trips over her own feet getting into the shower.
As soon as she’s locked inside, I ask the most important question: “How old is she?”
“Nineteen.”
“You sure about that?” Most of these girls don’t wear makeup; it isn’t always easy to tell how old or young they are.
“She showed me her driver’s license.”
“You’re sure it’s not a fake?”
“It didn’t look fake.” He pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Miller. I’ve got a handle on the situation.”
Another stall comes open, and he grabs it before I can question him further.
I’ve got time before the campfire, so I walk down to the lake where the reception is better and I can get some privacy. Sunny said she’d try to call tonight. The last I heard from her was two nights ago. She left a choppy message saying her reception was bad. She didn’t sound particularly happy. It shouldn’t have made me feel good, but it kinda did.
Tonight they’re supposed to be at a bar in town. Lily isn’t much of a drinker, so she’s the DD. Their ride is portable, so even if she does get drunk, they could park and sleep it off. Sunny’s a friendly, touchy drunk. Usually I’m cool with it, but I’m not there, and Patchy Bushman is.
The first night I met Sunny, she was blitzed after three drinks, two of which I bought for her. I ordered her a non-alcoholic mojito while she was in the bathroom to help sober her up. At the time I didn’t want to feel guilty if we got naked together later. We ended up at an all-night breakfast place instead. She ate an insane amount of food, which was hot, since most girls pick at a salad and pretend they’re not hungry. We talked for hours.
I cabbed it back to her friend’s place with her at four in the morning, but she didn’t invite me in. Instead we made out on the front porch. Then I asked for her number and gave her mine. On the way back to the hotel, I voice-texted her so I wouldn’t mess up any of the words and told her I had a great time and wanted to see her again. When I got back to my room I hit the showers and rubbed one out instead of going back to the bar to score a bunny.
The sun dips lower on the horizon, but dusk is an hour away, so I should be safe from the mosquitoes. They’re terrible up here. Worse than I’ve ever seen in Chicago. I haven’t shaved since I arrived. I left my razor and trimmer at Sunny’s, and I didn’t think to buy anything when Randy and I stocked up on snacks at the grocery store. Even with my trim job at Sunny’s, I have clusters of bites all over the place. I’ve been bathing in bug spray every night before the campfire, but it’s not doing much good.
I head out to the docks and drop into one of the chairs, brushing away a few cobwebs and a spider or two. It’s quiet out here with everyone getting ready for the fire. I feel guilty for not helping out like I usually do, but I need a few minutes to myself. I’m hoping to get directions from Sunny for when camp is done.