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They’re not Kayde, or my dad; and while words may hurt my feelings, nothing these two can do could ever hurt me physically.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Iguess I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m back in one of my five favorite trees. Without the distraction of Kayde or the kids being here, sitting in trees is one of my preferred things to do.
Especially now, with my feelings in disarray, to put it lightly.
But like yesterday, more and more of my hurt and longing have turned to hate for the ax murderer that wanted to break me, kill Kinsley, kill the kids and everyone else. It’s supposed to feel this way, I remind myself, one earbud firmly in my ear and my arms around my legs as I lean back against the trunk of the tree.
I’m supposed to hate him. Not long for him.
Deftly I put my other earbud in, checking my phone one last time to crank my volume up higher and check the time. I have another twenty minutes or so before the first kids start showing up. So I can sit here for maybe ten more.
Or maybe nineteen and a half.
One of my legs drops off of the side of the branch, foot swinging back and forth in the air seven feet over the ground. This tree is harder to hide in, since my branch only sits around six feet up instead of ten. Though I suppose, on the bright side, if I were to fall out of this one, I might not die or break my collarbone.
As “Talking in Your Sleep” blares in my ears loudly enough that I couldn’t fall asleep even if I’d wanted to, I lean back and glance up at the sky. Or at least, what I can see of it between the dense leaves of the trees. There are very few places outside of camp or the lake where I can see the sky unobstructed here, but that’s always been okay.
I like the dark. I like the moonless dark in the trees, when I can barely see anything further than a few feet in front of my face.
Songs change, blending from one to the next, and it’s not until I’m halfway through “Bad Moon Rising” and considering getting down that I realize I’m not alone here.
Though, Shawn’s method of getting my attention leaves a lot to be desired, as the quiet counselor grabs my ankle that swings through the air and yanks.
My eyes fly open, and I drop my other leg to balance with my thighs on the branch, looking down at him as a gasp leaves my throat unbidden. “What the fuck, Shawn?” I snarl, fingers digging into the trunk of the tree. Then I yank the earbuds from my ears and shove them in my pocket, though my attention never leaves him.
Especially with his hand still on my foot and a smile on his lips.
“Kinsley’s looking for you,” he tells me in that quiet, sly way of his. With olive skin that always seems to hold a tan and wavy black hair cut around his ears that somehow makes his green eyes look impossibly bright, I’m not above admitting that I’d had a crush on him my first year here.
Until I’d really talked to him, anyway.
Shawn is unnerving, and that’s the best compliment I can think of to give him. Anything else sounds suspiciously like an insult in my head, and certainly will on my tongue.
“So you thought you’d drag me out of my fucking tree, you psycho?” I yank my foot away from him, bracing it back up on my branch.
“I figured you weren’t in any danger.” He shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. “You’re the one climbing trees and jumping down from them all the time. Come on.” He tilts his head to the side, still eyeing me shrewdly. “Are you going to go find Kins or not?”
“Why don’t you, I don’t know, take a few steps back first?” I retort, preparing to jump down. Though I’m certainly not going to jump right now, while Shawn can do something to make it worse or make me fall.
Shawn shrugs and takes three steps away from me, deliberately, with his hands up in surrender. “I’m not the one who hates you at this camp, Summer,” he reminds me, watching as I jump to the ground before he shoves his hands back into his pockets.
“Oh, yeah?” I push my phone into mine, making sure my earbuds are still there before I straighten. “Well, you certainly don’t like me much, huh?”
At that, Shawn tilts his head to the side, studying me. “You don’t think so?” he murmurs, and for some reason, the hairs on my neck stand up in both anticipation and something else that I don’t love.
But I refuse to be afraid of Shawn.
“I think if you do, you have a shitty way of showing it,” I mumble, rubbing my hands along my arms that have broken out in gooseflesh. “Where’s Kins?”
“Well, maybe I do have a poor way of showing it if you’re going to stand there and try not to shake,” Shawn teases, stepping forward. “But I’m not the one who sat at the fire last night and tried to embarrass?—”
“I didn’t start it,” I’m quick to cut him off, my eyes narrowing in warning as I glance up at him. Then I close the last of the space between us before he can, meeting his gaze and refusing to look away. I am certainly not afraid of Shawn.
No way on this earth would I ever fall that low.
“And I don’t know what this is…” I gesture between us before dropping my hand. “But I definitely didn’t start it either, Shawn. If you want in Darcy’s pants so bad, I can name about six better ways?—”
