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“Are you okay?” Melody asks bluntly, dipping one side of her paddle into the water to stay facing me. “You look upset.”
“I’ve never been better,” I lie, flashing her a quick grin.
“Is it because you’re kayaking alone?” another of my long-time campers asks, her eyes wide as she looks me over, like she’s also afraid I’m going to get dumped into the shallow river at any moment.
“Well, I’ve been kayaking with Liza long enough that surely some of her skill has rubbed off on me. So no, I’m not nervous.” None of her skill has rubbed off on me, and there’s not an ounce of confidence sticking to my bones today.
Part of me would rather go another round with Kayde than do this kayaking adventure in a single kayak. But that part of me deserves to be smothered out of existence, quite frankly. Still, I take another deep breath, trying to look something other than terrified, and cautiously steer myself closer to my cabin as Liza explains the rules of kayaking and the route we’ll take. Also giving the campers a few minutes to get used to using the paddles without tipping themselves into the water.
More than anything, I know it’s going to be a long fucking day.
Disaster waits to strike until the worst possible time, naturally.
It takes a little while for me to get comfortable, and I have more close calls along the river than I’d like to admit, though I manage to laugh all of them off like they haven’t happened. The river opens up, becoming deeper and wider the closer we get to the lake, and I know this is the point where I need to keep my eyes on the campers. The river is a little rougher this year than we prefer, and if someone falls in, a counselor will most likely have to go in after them.
For all that I’m a good swimmer, I’m also pretty sure that I’ll look like an idiot dragging a twelve-year-old to the shore. Not to mention, it’s not high on my ‘enjoyable’ list of activities that can happen during summer camp sessions.
It’s hard to focus on my own kayak and watch my girls, but thankfully, most of them have been here enough times to know what they’re doing. They’re able to follow Liza through the deeper water toward the shore and the small dock, where they’ll be able to step out and drag the kayaks to land. My girls haven’t been a problem at all, and I’m not worried about a spontaneous change to that now.
“Hey! Justin, Bryan, stop!” Daniel’s sharp bark from somewhere behind me barely registers in my brain. I’m deaf to other counselors reprimanding their kids, but when something taps against the back of my kayak, I look back, startled, to see the two boys splashing each other with paddles and generally not paying attention.
They don’t respond to Daniel’s words, and I roll my eyes where they hopefully can’t see. Daniel always was a pushover, and his kids’ behavior reflects that. None of my girls would be stupid enough to have a water fight with paddles, nor bump into someone else if they can help it.
Belatedly I use my paddle to push against their kayak, creating some distance between us and ending up parallel with the boys. “Enough, you two,” I snap, still barely paying attention to them. “At least wait until we’re on?—”
I only see the paddle out of the corner of my eye, and I definitely don’t see it in time to react with more than a pang of fear that chokes me. The boy in the back swings the paddle around, trying to slap his kayak partner with it or splash him with whatever water he can thrust out of the river.
Unfortunately, his friend ducks, cackling, and the momentum brings the paddle further in my direction than it should, until it collides with my cheekbone hard enough that I see stars and pitch to the left.
In doing so, I tip my kayak, and all the flailing in the world isn’t enough to keep me out of the water with a throbbing, spinning head and an open, surprised mouth.
Honestly, it’s the worst luck I could have. The rational part of my brain that’s not freaking out tells me, oh so helpfully, that this is the worst possible situation to be in, and at the absolute worst place because the current is stronger and the water is deeper.
My lungs are burning.
Not to mention I can barely think around the throbbing in my face and the stars I swear I see winking in and out of my vision. I flail—my best attempt at swimming upward—and with my eyes open, I can see the sunlight reflecting on the surface of the water that seems way too far away.
At least, until a dark shape obscures the light above me. It gets larger and larger in my vision until arms wrap around me, stopping me from flailing, before dragging me up and up through the heavy, ice cold water.
My head breaks the surface and I suck in a breath, lungs and nose burning as water mixes with the tears streaming from my eyes. “I’m fine,” I cough, the words probably slurred and barely heard. I try to help my rescuer, attempting to paddle my way toward the shore so that I’m not just dead weight in the water.
Not that they seem to mind.
“Stop, stop,” a voice that is definitely Kayde’s growls in my ear, his arm locked around my body. “You’re not helping like you think you are. I’ve got you.”
“I don’t need—” The words are out of my mouth automatically, my brain pushing back against getting help from the boogeyman.
“Sweetheart, you do. Now shut up for me.” He doesn’t sound angry, but I still can’t get a good look at his face. The moment my foot brushes the bottom of the river, Kayde stands, sweeping me up into his arms like I weigh as little as one of our preteen campers.
I’m never going to live this down.
Not when I’m being carried, bridal style, out of the river while three cabins of kids watch and Liza keeps my girls from killing the boys that dunked me.
Not when I can’t do much more than clutch at Kayde’ shirt, my face throbbing and my head still spinning.
I will never, in all of my life, live down Kayde Lane saving my life in front of a third of Camp Crestview. Fuck.
Gently, Kayde kneels, letting me slide to the ground in front of him before he brushes my hair back from my face.
