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Whenever I close my eyes, I can’t help but see the memory of the showers. I can’t help but run through every single moment in my head even as I curl even more tightly into a ball under my blankets. I know the second I get up and look in the mirror I’ll see the bruises that had already been blooming when I’d stumbled back to my cabin. And any hope that it was a dream will be chased away with the last dredges of sleep still trying to pull me under.
Somehow, I’ve managed to wake up ten minutes before my alarm. Instead of laying on my pillow until the last possible moment, I swing myself to my feet and stretch, arms linked above my head and going on tiptoe to work the kinks out of my muscles. Sure enough, the small look I get of my side in the mirror shows me that Kayde left as many marks on me as he could.
As if he wants me to squirm and be uncomfortable when remembering last night.
As if he wants to make sure I can’t forget.
“I hate it here,” I murmur in a sing-song voice, changing out of my oversized tee and boyshorts. From my dresser I pull out another Camp Crestview t-shirt from the mountain of them I’ve collected over the years, and I shake out the bright red fabric before slipping it on over my head. Thankfully, by the time my black running shorts and sneakers are on, I’m more awake and not as dragged down by the memory of last night as I had been when I first woke up.
At least…not until I give myself a once over in the large mirror near the foot of my bed. My fingers wander up to my throat, stroking over the bruised flesh above my collarbones. Anyone with eyes will know that the bruises are hickeys, and I don’t have any makeup to cover it.
“God,” I sigh, closing my eyes hard. I can already hear Kinsley’s questions, and if Darcy finds out, then I’ll be deader than I’ll probably be at the end of this summer camp session. No, I have to do something about them before that can happen.
And, unfortunately, Band-Aids turn out to be my only option. I slap three of them over my throat, covering most of the bruising even though some of the lighter, mottled red and purple still shows around the edges. But the bandages obscure the shape enough to give some doubt about what they are, and there’s no way I won’t be able to explain it away to anyone who asks.
I just hope no one asks.
What will Kayde think?
The thought bounces around my head suddenly, causing me to freeze in place even as I hear the girls in my cabin talking as they get ready. They’re better at getting up on time than I am, and I know I can’t let them have too much independence if I don’t want them setting something, or more likely someone, on fire.
“Please kill Kayde this week,” I mutter, putting that out into the universe just in case something is listening. “Please, Melody, if you’re going to turn the other girls feral and commit your first murder, please let it be Kayde.” It’s not like I’d miss him. Hell, if he is what he says he is, I don’t know if anyone would miss him.
Once my hair is up, I leave my cabin and close the door behind me, then stride to the door that leads to the girls’ bunks and knock on the wall. “I know you’re up,” I call, hands on my hips. “Ready to go raid the dining hall?”
The words are barely out of my mouth before the door is slammed open, nearly bouncing back on its hinges and causing me to give a sympathetic wince. Naturally, Melody is out first. The pack of girls that follow her always seem to bow to whatever innate dominance the girl possesses as she marches them toward the dining hall with a giggle in the ear of one of her friends.
I follow behind them, glancing toward the other cabins to see if any other kids are headed the same way just yet. Admittedly this is a little early for us. But this morning, I don’t care. I’m wired, as much as I hate it, and it’s hard for me to limit myself to clenching and unclenching my hands in my pockets.
“What?” I blink, realizing the girls are talking to me, and when I glance at them, I see they’re all clustered around me, keeping me from going further. “Did you say something?”
Judging by Melody’s look, it was her. Sure enough, she frowns like I’ve inconvenienced her by not giving her my constant attention, then taps the side of her throat. “What happened to your neck, Summer?” she asks, eyes wide with a concern I almost believe.
“Umm…” I hate how observant she is, and I reach up to brush my fingers over the Band-Aids. “Yeah. I fell,” I lie lamely, not knowing what else to say.
“On your neck?” Clearly, Melody doesn’t believe me in the least, and I roll my eyes at her incredulous look.
“Not exactly, but close enough. It was outside after you guys were hopefully asleep. I fell, my neck found the rocks, and boom. Bruises.” I wiggle my fingers in front of me like jazz hands, trying to use my own sarcasm to push the point past being argued.
She doesn’t believe me. That’s clear by the look on her face, and the way she narrows her eyes shrewdly, like she’s trying to catch me in a lie. But I’m used to Melody by now, so I just narrow my eyes right back and will her to start heading for the dining hall again.
Thankfully, she just shrugs, apparently losing interest in my spontaneous injuries before trudging towards the food and coffee I desperately need right now.
My feet scuff in the gravel as we go, and it’s hard not to look like a pouting child when I make my way into the dining hall behind my cabin of girls. I swipe a mug and quickly fill it with black coffee topped off by the smallest amount of cream.
It’s not enough. Especially since I’ve finished the searing liquid by the time I have my plate in hand and I’m striding for one of the counselors’ tables.
The one without Kayde, naturally. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s already there, and it shocks me even less that he’s a social fucking butterfly with the counselors sharing his table. Thankfully, that doesn’t include Kinsley, who sits at the other one with Liza on her far side.
It feels almost like I’m intruding, since it’s clear they each harbor an equal crush on the other. I slow my steps, looking at the way Liza and Kinsley sit close together, and a pang goes through my chest when Kinsley giggles and shifts just a little closer to the camp nurse.
I’m jealous.
Safe in my own thoughts, I can admit the shock that travels up my spine is pure jealousy at its finest. Not specifically of Liza; I don’t have a crush on either of them and Kinsley has assured me that while she thinks I’m ‘cute,’ I’m not her type either.
I’m just jealous of this thing that’s building between them. It’s new, and delicate, but sweet and I mentally cross my fingers and toes that it works out. Kins has been crushing on Liza for a couple of years now, and while I have no idea what finally gave her the confidence to take things a step past friendship, I’m thrilled for her. She deserves this.
But apparently I don’t.
