I laugh at Caleb’s question as I pull into my parking spot and turn off my ignition. I pop out of the car and stretch. “We can’t just kiss whenever we want to,” I scold. “We’re not campers anymore. We work here now.”
It’s true. A couple months ago, I messaged him to let him know I’d be coming back to camp as a counselor this year. He replied back immediately and said he was going to apply online.
At the time, I just laughed. Sure, we’d kept in touch through our messaging app, but that was it. We’d gone all school year without seeing each other. We only live forty-five minutes away from each other, but until a few months ago, neither one of us could drive. We go to different high schools. We have totally different lives. And though I always loved hearing from him, I pretty much knew nothing would ever come from it. After all, we were summer friends.
But then he started messaging more frequently. And I kept messaging back. And before I knew what was happening, chatting online with Caleb became the best part of my day. And I can’t deny there’s chemistry between us. But I’m also a little afraid we’ll drive each other completely crazy within a week.
He grabs two bags from his trunk and slams the door shut before turning toward me. “Uh, yeah. And the only reason I got a job here is to increase my chances of making out with you.”
“Oh, my God, Caleb. There could be little kids around. You can’t say things like that!”
“Fine. I’ll come to your cabin after lights out tonight. Can I say things then? Or can I just kiss you?”
Before I can think of an answer, he turns and walks away.
* * *
Sure enough,twelve hours later, there’s a knock at my cabin door. Though the safety-cautious part of me hopes there are security cameras posted around, I’m now praying that they’re temporarily disabled.
Caleb’s standing there, in the glow of my porch light, looking handsome and forbidden. I can’t turn him away, but I’m terrified of getting caught, so Imake a frantic motion with my hands, willing him to come inside before he’s caught.
He steps inside, looking perfect, as always. His hat is on backwards and he’s wearing the hell out of his camp-issued t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans. “We’re in the middle of the woods, Luce. No one’s out here patrolling, I promise. Jared’s on duty tonight and he was still at the dining hall a few minutes ago. I’m not gonna get hauled outta here, I promise.”
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “The girls are sleeping on the other side of that wall!”
“And you’re the one who’s damn near yelling, so if they wake up, that’s on you.” He whispers back.
“What are you even doing here?” I say, hands on my hips. He said he’d come by after lights-out, but the rules were clearly outlined at orientation earlier today: no guests of the opposite gender allowed in cabins. We could hang out on the deck, but only during daytime hours. So, having Caleb inside my room, at night? Doubly forbidden.
“I told you I’d come,” he shrugs, looking around. It’s a tiny room, more like a screened-in porch than an actual cabin.
Caleb sits down on my bed and I’m both surprised and excited. I mean, there’s really nowhere else to sit in here, except the folding chair in corner. But I’ve never had a guy on my bed before. I dated a guy named Mike this past spring, but it was…kind of lackluster? Kissing Mike was pretty meh. But standing within ten feet of Caleb is pretty fantastic. And seeing his body sprawled out across my purple comforter. I could totally get in trouble for having him here this late, but suddenly, I’m not quite so sure I care.
And that’s dangerous.
I love rules.
I live for rules.
They keep me safe and happy.
But Caleb Whitman makes me want to break the rules.
Whit, age 16
We’re working here at camp for the next eight weeks. And Lucy’s got throw pillows. Little ones, big ones. Even a heart-shaped one. I prop a frilly one behind my head, lean back, and smile. Sure enough, she’s standing at the end of the bed, dainty hands on those fucking edible hips. Damn.
When we were thirteen, Lucy Alvarez was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. At fourteen, she had me thinking filthy thoughts. Last year, she had me out of my mind.
But this year?
Jesus, she’s perfect. I’ve spent the last nine months fantasizing about her, but she’s even better than what my dirty imagination conjured up.
I stretch out, dangling my feet off the edge of the mattress and generally taking up too much space. “Damn, Luce. Your mattress is comfier than mine. That’s not fair.”
“You are not here to compare mattresses!” she whisper-shouts. “You’re not supposed to be here. You heard the rules today at the same time I did.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “But I wasn’t really listening. First off, rules aren’t my thing. But also, I figured you’d basically have the whole handbook memorized, and I’m guessing we’ll spend the summer with me doing dumb shit and you yelling at me. You know, like usual.”
