Page 91 of Never Will I Ever

After all, he’s still the guy who was expelled for outing two innocent people.

And I’m still the guy who turned him in for it.

But despite it all, I still want him.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do with that.

Twenty-Four

Avery

Week Six

With the second half of our time at camp in full swing now, apparently it’s time for a staff review with Colin. According to Kaleb, he does this every year: pulls in all the counselors one by one, regardless of how long they’ve worked here, for a “check-in” before heading into the final three weeks.

“Check-in,” I echo, staring at him from across the dining table.

Kaleb smirks. “Stop worrying, it’s gonna go fine.”

I glance to where his brothers are sitting, close enough to hear despite them conversing themselves, and lower my voice to a level only for Kaleb’s ears.

“For you, maybe. You’re the camp golden boy. Meanwhile, I’m the idiot who still can’t manage to bait a hook without wanting to puke.”

To his credit, Kaleb does his best not to laugh at my dramatics. He even manages to hold it in for a solid three seconds before he fails miserably, but I appreciate the effort regardless.

Of course, it does absolutely nothing to assuage my anxiety.

“You’re no fucking help,” I mutter under my breath.

“No swearing,” Dayton, who is sitting directly beside Kaleb, chimes in between mouthfuls of eggs.

Ah, so theyarelistening.

Eyes still locked on me, Kaleb arches a brow. “I’m gonna say it again: You’ll be fine.”

“If that’s true, why do I feel like I’m about to face the firingsquad?” I ask as I rise from the bench. Then I raise my hand to my forehead and give him a mock salute.

Amusement gleams in his eyes while he watches me.

“Don’t worry. If I’m wrong and you get fired, I’m sure you have a future on Broadway. Your theatrics would be put to good use there.”

I roll my eyes. “Like I said. No fucking help.”

I’m about to leave when Elijah appears out of nowhere and drops his tray on the table right where I’d been sitting.

“Avery! Where are you going?”

“Meeting with Colin,” Kaleb answers for me.

Elijah frowns, glancing between the two of us. “Really? But we’re playing Capture the Flag after breakfast.”

I pat him on the shoulder a couple times. “I know, kid. But I gotta attend my own funeral first.”

And with that, I leave them, allowing my feet to carry me toward my impending doom. All jokes aside, the nerves are overwhelming. Weak knees, sweaty palms, arms weighing a thousand pounds; the only thing stopping me from being Eminem is that I’ve managed to not puke on myself.

Yet.

My pulse thuds in my ears as I head down the hall to Colin’s office, dulling my sense of hearing to the point where I can barely hear my fist knocking on the door, let alone his voice calling me into the room. Of course, once I’m inside, the door closed behind me, the deafening pounding may as well be a group of monkeys banging cymbals. I’m not even sure if Colin told me to take a seat when he motioned toward the chair across from him or if I took the gesture and ran with it.

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