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Because fuck him, quite frankly. And not in a cute or sexy way.
Fuck Kayde for making me want him to stay. For making me want him to be more than just a psycho ax murderer intent on breaking me or killing all the kids at Camp Crestview.
And while I’m at it, fuck Darcy for making the week long break back at home miserable with the thought and promise that I’m not worth it.
I’m not worth staying for.
And I’m certainly, very clearly, not worth changing for.
My nails dig into the skin of my wrists as I sit back against the tree I’m sitting in, staring out at the mostly empty summer camp. I try not to climb trees when the kids are around, since it gives them dangerous ideas. But for now, when it’s just me and Daniel and maybe Liza setting up her cabin, I don’t have to worry about that.
It’s just me and the pathetic pity party I’m still insistent on throwing myself, even though I should be long over it by now. If my mom had seen me over the week-long break, and she’d known I was letting myself get like this over a boy, she would’ve jumped into action. There would’ve been stern talks, delicious dinners, movie marathons, and probably some off the wall activity like bowling or skydiving to take my mind off of this.
And of course, the lectures would have reminded me that I am better than this. That there’s nothing about a man who I hadn’t even been dating to cry about or to make myself miserable for.
But then again, my mom has always been an incredibly practical woman. Even after my dad, she hadn’t let herself stay a victim. She pulled herself out of the depression, the anxiety, and was mom of the year for every single year of my childhood.
And she still is, quite frankly. Even if we don’t always get along as well as we could.
Dragging my knees up to my chest causes the bark to scrape and bits of it to peel off under my feet. It rains down to the ground ten feet below me, though I barely pay attention or give it much thought. Maybe I’ll break my own rules this session and come up here to sit when I can. Darcy’s not always smart enough to look up, and most people don’t expect to find me ten feet up in a tree when they’re looking for me.
It works out in my favor, as long as my kids don’t start getting ideas about climbing trees and swinging from them like monkey bars. I’m sure that would lead to me getting a very unpleasant call from Mr. Fink, I can already hear the chagrin in his voice and see his pinched face at the mere thought of a kid breaking their arm, leg, or skull from a tree fall.
But surely I deserve something after getting bashed into the river a week and a half ago by Daniel’s boys.
My feet scrape along the bark again and I lean my head back against the tree trunk, closing my eyes with a soft sigh as I let one knee rest against my chest, while my other falls so my foot can hang in the open air. I love being up in my tree. There are about five around camp that I prefer to climb, and this one has to be my favorite.
Especially so long as no one finds me, since they don’t know where to look. If Daniel needs me, he can find literally anyone else. If Liza needs me, she knows my number. I’d get down out of my tree for her, probably. Well, I’d be likely to consider it, anyway.
Approaching footsteps don’t make my eyes open. I barely notice them, and only bring my hanging leg back up to the large, thick branch of the tree that I’ve always known will hold my weight and probably that of someone else.
Not that Kinsley is the climbs-trees type. I don’t think Liza is either, for all her danger warnings and safety precautions. The only person here who’s ever gotten into a tree with me was Daniel, and that was back when we were more like friends and less like acquaintances.
“Figured you’d be in the last place I checked.” Kinsley’s wry tone pulls my attention from the backs of my eyelids, and I glance down at her in surprise. The crooked grin on her face is just what I’d been expecting, and I match it with a hesitant one of my own that isn’t quite heartfelt.
But the least I can do is try.
“You could’ve texted me,” I remind her, leaning back on the trunk and staring down at my best friend with interest. She looks like she’s just gotten the best sleep of her life, and there are a few hickeys sticking out from the collar of her shirt that she can’t quite hide without either a scarf or a really obvious Bandaid like I’d used last time. “I see we’re still in love, huh?” I tease, happy at the thought that she and Liza so far aren’t just a one and done thing.
Now they just need to last the rest of the summer and into autumn, before I can start taking bets on who will propose to who.
Secretly, I think it’ll be Liza proposing. For all of Kinsley’s bravado, she can be a bit naïve at times and gets bouts of random shyness when it comes to super serious shit. And yeah, Liza is definitely in the category of super serious.
At least, I hope she is anyway.
“I could’ve,” she admits, reaching up and rubbing her fingers over the marks that show just above the neck of her tee. “But that would be boring and probably not that productive, given the fact service here is an absolute joke.”
“Not if you’re in a tree,” I tease, swinging both legs over the same side of the branch. It’s a bit too high for me to just jump down, but one of my favorite things about this tree are the stair-stepping branches that march downward at angles I can use to go up or down easily. I hop to one, then the other, and when I’m about four feet from the dirt, I jump down easily to land on the balls of my feet beside Kinsley.
“I hate when you do that,” she admits, glancing up at the tree. “I’m always afraid you’re going to fall and break your neck. Even Liza can’t save you from that, you know.”
“You sure? She’s a damn good camp nurse.” I laugh, brushing off my legs. “What are you doing here so early, anyway—” At the flush that creeps up her face while I speak, I realize the answer to my question long before I’ve finished. “Oh.” I sidle closer, wiggling my eyebrows. “Did we arrive with Liza? Have we been here for a bit?” I can’t help but let my words end up a little teasing, a little taunting. But it’s not like Kinsley minds. She’d do the same to me, given the chance.
“Maybe,” Kinsley sniffs. “Are you going to help me set up the cabins or not? Thought we’d do ours together, so it takes less time. And I have new edibles so we could, you know, go die in the staff cabin for a while?”
“God, I’m so in,” I mutter, setting off across the campground toward Redtail and Dormouse cabins. I can’t help but angle my head toward Owl Cabin, which is always Darcy’s, and I frown when I see both doors open. Yeah, okay, so I hadn’t gotten lucky with Darcy not showing up early this time. A fact that’s confirmed when I see her in her small cabin, putting her long, dark hair up in a thick ponytail.
As we pass, she turns to me, and our eyes connect for just long enough that I can see a small, cruel grin on her features before she turns back to the mirror over the armoire.
