Camp Payback (3 page)

Read Camp Payback Online

Authors: J. K. Rock

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Social Themes, #Dating & Relationships, #Camp Payback

A shrill whistle cut through the sudden rush of noise, and the camp director barreled through the kids toward me.

“What’s the problem here?” the guy demanded, still holding his whistle in one hand. Beady eyes darted back and forth between the girl and me. “Ms. Martineau? Mr. Kovalev? Care to explain this?”

“She kissed me.” I pointed at the dark-haired girl who gnawed on her lip, her eyes troubled but defiant. “I was just standing here.”

Behind the girl, a couple of guys doubled over in silent laughter. What was that all about? I had a vague sense they were to blame for setting her off, given the dirty look she sent them. But I couldn’t think about that now when my job at camp might be over before it began. My shoulders tensed. Fists tightened.

“Is this true, Alexandra?” The camp director—finally letting go of his whistle—took out a notepad from his shirt pocket and scribbled. “Your parents will be disappointed if I need to call them.”

The girl’s face went white as she nodded. I shouldn’t feel sorry for her, but it was obvious that a parent phone call was the last thing she wanted.

“As for you, young man.” The guy’s attention turned back to me, and he stepped closer and pointed a finger in my face. A crunch under his hiking boot suggested he’d destroyed a few lanyards in the process. “You’re off to a precarious start here.” He gestured to the mess on the floor and the crowd of gawkers watching him yell at me. “If you want to keep your job, I suggest you look sharp from now on, Javier, or you’ll be sent right back to foster care. Understood?”

Fury crawled up the back of my neck at the guy for announcing my status. Not that I cared about fitting in, since that was a lost cause for me. And the only time I’d see the other kids was when I bunked down with them or served them meals. Still. My situation was no one’s business.

“Yes, sir,” the girl—Alexandra, apparently—answered for both of us while I gave a stiff nod.

I couldn’t afford to lose my temper now. But, oh, man. The tic behind my eye was racing at lightspeed.

“Alex, since you are the instigator, you’re assigned to breakfast cleanup all week.” The camp director tapped the side of his nose. “You’ll work with Helena, our new kitchen director, and miss your first activity to fulfill the duty. Let this be a lesson to everyone else about public displays of affection and inappropriate touching.” He glared around the room until his eyes stopped on me. “And staff members are reminded to reread page twelve in the employee handbook about appropriate conduct with campers.”

My body tensed. Like I’d asked for her kiss? And yes, I’d read page twelve. I had read the entire handbook to make sure I wouldn’t lose this last chance I’d been given before being sent to a group home.

The director turned on his boot heel and stalked off after warning me to get my butt to my cabin. I was about to do just that, had even made a few steps toward my bag, when Helena rushed toward me. I wanted to keep walking. But if it hadn’t been for her stepping up and giving me a place to stay this summer when my foster parents kicked me out…

I ground my teeth and forced myself to stop.

She clamped a hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes, her wiry blonde hair showing signs of going prematurely gray. She wasn’t much older than my mom, and it killed me to think of my mom going gray before she’d ever get out of prison to have any fun. Saddled with a kid before she could even get to college, Mom had sacrificed everything for me. She would be hurt if I blew this chance at the camp that Mom’s old prison friend, Helena, had secured for me until my problems with foster care could be worked out. Again.

“Javier.” Her gravelly voice was matter-of-fact, but her face was bright red. “Do you have any idea who you just kissed?”

Around us, activity returned to normal. A bunch of girls surrounded Alexandra. They all comforted her while the counselor tried to resurrect her lanyard display. Every now and then, one of them looked my way, and I glared daggers back at them. Did they have any clue how much their friend might have messed up my life?

“I don’t care. Look, I didn’t do anything.” I wanted Helena—needed her—to believe me.

“Well, you should care. Alex’s parents are famous for raising wholesome kids. They write blogs and books about it. Messing around with her is even worse than messing around with any of the other campers. Not only would you lose your job, but the negative publicity would be horrible. Even your mom would hear about it.”

I froze. I’d caused Mom enough grief. I would definitely stay clear of Alex.

My eyes strayed to the dark curls waving over her slender shoulders when she picked up a piece of the broken display. “Trust me. She’s the last girl I’d be interested in. The only thing I want to do this summer is make money and stay off the director’s radar.”

Helena made a face. “Well, I hope you have some fun, too. You’re only seventeen. For that matter, I still wish you’d reconsider working in the kitchen. You could have picked an outdoor job.”

“I like cooking.”

Helena sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best. Mr. Woodrow told us that BLISS Network is showing up unannounced this summer to film her. You do not want to be the guy caught fooling around with the
Wholesome Home
girl. Understand?”

I nodded, a pang of sympathy making me look up at the cute girl whose mouth I still tasted. Strawberry lip gloss and bubblegum. It must suck to be followed by cameras wherever you went. But like Helena said, even more reason to forget the feel of her soft body and the taste of her.

Helena’s fingers snapped in front of my face, and I tore my eyes away Alex. “Stick with your goals, and you’ll be able to help your mom when she’s released this fall. The last time you ran off to see her, your foster parents threatened to report it and send you to a group home. And if this camp job hadn’t come through, that’s where you’d be. No more bad reports.”

My teeth clenched. “I won’t go to the group home. It’s on the opposite side of the state from Mom. I’ll never get to visit.”

Helena’s face softened. “We’ll sort it out, Javier. But for now, better head to your cabin. Okay?”

“I need to get my stuff first.” I’d left my bag near the registration table.

“I’ll have it sent over to you later.” Helena turned me toward the door. “It’s my fault I kept you here talking when Mr. Woodrow asked you to get to the cabin.”

I had a real problem with other people touching my stuff. Maybe it came from leaving behind a lot of my things when I went into the foster system.

“It’ll only take a sec—”

“Please go before anything else happens.” She gave me another nudge. “Mr. Woodrow is about to leave, and I don’t want to miss my chance to talk to him.”

She hurried after the camp director. I didn’t want to upset her for a second time today, so I trudged outside and hoped she wouldn’t let anyone mess with my bag. It was all I had. All I could call my own. Home for me was a duffle bag I carried one-handed.

“Javier?” A muscular dude in a fishing hat and camouflage cut-offs called the second I stepped outside. Had to be a counselor.

“Yeah?” I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

“I can show you where the cabins are,” he offered.

I could figure it out by the sea of kids streaming away from the administration building with their suitcases, but I figured this was just the guy’s polite way of giving me a warning or some advice that wouldn’t help.

I shrugged.

“I’m Bruce. They call me Bam-Bam.” He offered his hand, and I shook it. “I’m the counselor for the Wander Inn, but you’re not on my list.”

“I’m sleeping in the Warriors’ Warden.” I had no idea if that was bad or good, but this Bam-Bam guy seemed all right. “Guess they didn’t think I was old enough to sleep in the staff cabin.”

“Right. One of the campers cancelled last minute, and Mr. Woodrow thought if you took his bunk, you’d have some camp experience when you’re not working. My cabin’s right next door.” He pointed out a baseball field and a few other kinds of athletic fields nearby. I could see the Nantahala River in the distance, shimmering in the bright afternoon sun.

If I didn’t
have
to be here, maybe I wouldn’t mind this place so much. But I could almost write the script for the rest of my time at Camp Juniper Point now that I’d been branded as the staffer accused of kissing one of their precious girls. What the hell had she done that for? Whatever her reasons, I wasn’t planning on getting too comfortable.

After taking the scenic route, we arrived at the boys’ cabins. Apparently, the girls bunked on the far side of camp. The log cabins were different shapes and sizes, as if they’d added on as the camp grew. For the most part, they were in a circle, with the kiddie campers separated by the boys’ showers. Now, kids hung out the windows and aired out the buildings. Every now and then a pair of sneakers flew out of a door or guys wrestled in the common area between the buildings.

“You’re over there.” Bam-Bam pointed out the Warriors’ Warden. “Rob’s the counselor in charge. He’s a good guy, but if you need anything…” He shrugged. “Let me know.”

My guess? Bam-Bam was former military. You could tell by the way he carried himself. And while that was cool and all for him, I wasn’t going to be the kid that got recruited out of poverty to earn fame and glory in the service.

I just wanted to keep my head down and get through camp without getting booted. If I could keep my nose clean until Mom got out of jail this fall, then I could get out of the foster system, get a year-round job, and help her go back to college. She’d put off that dream long enough for my sake. But that’d be hard to do if my record showed I’d been fired and sent to a group home—or worse—for discipline reasons.

“Sure.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

I wanted to get my bag and make sure no one messed with it. Seeing all those sneakers fly out of the cabins made me suspect my bunkmates could be doing the same to my stuff.

When I walked in, a couple of bunks were already made up—claimed by early arrivals. Three guys were sitting on one vacant bunk, the uncovered mattress squeaking as they shifted to see who came in.

Right in the middle of them?

My green duffle.

“What are you doing?” No chance I was going to last out the summer. A girl kissing me…these guys handling my stuff…

There was no respect for boundaries in this place. Tension vise-gripped my shoulders.

One of the guys—a tall, slick-looking dude in a faded red polo—stood. “Just carried your bag up here for you, man. I’m Cameron.”

I was less interested in Cameron than the guys behind him, still way too close to my things. I flexed my fingers, trying not to get bent out of shape too fast. “Anger issues” was one of the labels I’d seen in that thick file of mine. But I was working on that. I had to.

“Javier,” I informed him, angling to drag the canvas sack toward an empty bed in the far corner. I flung the bag up onto the mattress and folded my arms, staring them down.

“I’m Eli.” A squirrely red-headed kid practically leaped to his feet. “Welcome to the Warden.” He darted toward the door, nodding at the other guys. “We’re going down to the beach before dinner if you want to come.”

The other guys fell in line. Cameron and some big, silent musclehead.

I shook my head.

“Too bad.” Eli slid out the door. “I’ll bet your girlfriend will be down there!”

The other guys snickered while I fumed.

I tossed out some clothes and reined in my temper. If I let things get worse, there’d be a fight before bedtime. Besides, the person I should be mad at was the dark-haired girl.

But as I remembered the look on her face while those guys laughed at her behind her back, I half-wondered if she and I had something in common. At that moment, she hadn’t looked like she fit in any more than I did.

Alex

I so did not want to be here. At least, not stuck in the administration building, crawling on my hands and knees, searching for missing lanyards. I was ready to get the camp party started. If only Emily would let me off the hook so I could scoot over to the arts and crafts building and make over my wardrobe from drab to fab. After Vijay’s put-downs and the tornado of rumors swirling around me, I needed to look amazing for tonight’s bonfire. Day one of my best summer ever was going down in flames, and I’d have to work fast to correct that.

My fingers connected with a braided leather piece under a desk. Finally.

“Here’s the last one.” I straightened and waved a tan bracelet with green beads.

Emily held out an overflowing cloth bag. “That makes fifty-two. Thanks, Alex.” Her large eyes ran over the shattered driftwood display she’d placed back on the table. “Hours of work gone in seconds. It’s hard to believe.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again, meaning it. It sucked when you worked at making something special only to have it shattered into millions of pieces. Like Vijay did to my heart. I pictured the lanky, endearing boy I’d fallen for last summer and wondered where he’d gone. He used to have a good side—but calling me a prude, asking me if I still wanted to be a virgin and planned to keep my legs crossed…it didn’t even
sound
like him.

Emily’s eyes crinkled, and she extended a fist my way. “Don’t worry—be happy. Right, home girl?”

We bumped knuckles, and I returned her broad smile, relieved she’d forgiven me. Her thin arm hooked around my waist as I hefted my gray suitcase. “You can help pass these out at the bonfire.” Emily swung the bag and shook back her tangled blonde curls. “But first I want to hear the dirt on Vijay.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “And your new boyfriend, Javier. Fast moves, girlfriend, but be careful there. He’s totally quasi-staff this year.”

“Can we wait until we get back to the cabin? I need to stop at the arts and crafts building,” I stalled. My kissing partner-in-crime had definitely been hot, but he’d been a weapon against Vijay. Nothing more. I didn’t need more boy trouble at camp, even if I couldn’t stop replaying the feel of Javier’s full lips on mine. I planned to pay back my parents by having fun and raising some hell. Not by getting kicked out before I so much as toasted a s’more.

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