You know we’re not letting you stay at the lake house even if you win, right?
Me
yes. I’m well aware. I’ll be out of there regardless.
Dad
It’s not too late to call the whole fighting thing off and just come home. Running the auction house is a much more respectable choice.
I don’t respond, because his words only make me sad and angry. Sure, running the auction houses would be respectable. But doing that is his choice. And after making it this far, the last thing I want to do is quit.
I’m a grown man. It’s my life. For once, I need to make my own decisions.
We arrive at the woods before sunset. Cranberry Pines Campground is speckled with teenagers emerging from the set of vans idling ahead of us. The cabins are nestled among the bright and colorful Maple trees, and right in the center is a fire pit already lit with a crackling flame.
Romilly parks us near the vans and shuts off the engine. She stretches her arms and makes a soft groaning sound. I can’t help but stare at her as she does it because her eyes are closed and she typically looks put-together, but right now she’s so pretty in a rumpled, messy way.
I glance away before she can notice me staring.
“Ready to get checked in?” She asks.
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
We get out of the car and head toward a wood-paneled building near the cabins. Excited voices ring in the air around us as we find the youth pastor from Harvest Valley standing out front with a pen and clipboard.
When he sees us, he smiles. “Hey, Sebastian and Romilly.”
“Nice to see you, Hayden,” she says.
Hayden scans the list. “Alright, so I have Bash in Cabin A with Logan and Romilly in Cabin C. Does that sound right?”
Romilly frowns. “With Hadley, right?”
Hayden winces. “Actually, Hadley just called and she’s sick, so she’s not coming anymore. There are six girls in your cabin, but if anyone can handle it alone, it’s you.”
She nods, but I ask Hayden, “Isn’t there anyone else she can share a cabin with in case she needs help?”
Hayden looks surprised by my question, but consults his list once more. And then he shakes his head. “No. Everyone else is already partnered up.”
“Of course they are,” I mutter.
“It’s fine, Bash.” Her hand brushes across my arm. “Let’s put our things in the cabin.”
Of course she’s fine with it. But I’m not. It’s not fair that she’s the only one who has to work alone on this trip, so I silently vow to help her as much as I can while we’re here.
I follow her back to the car. She opens the trunk, but before she can remove our bags, I grab them all with ease, slinging the four duffel bags over my shoulders, two in each hand.
She stares at my arms. My chest. My feet. Anything but my eyes. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
She swallows. Nods. Am I imagining the way her gaze lingers on me?
Romilly speed-walks toward the cabins. I follow behind with her bags. When we’re both in the cabin, I set her bags on the floor. All the bunkbeds are empty, save for their uncovered mattresses. Romilly sits delicately on a random bottom bunk and exhales happily.
I shake my head. “How are you this optimistic? I can’t believe you have to be in here with no other adults.”
“I’ll befine.”
