Page 44 of Until Next Summer

We said goodbye to our second group of campers this morning, and I’m no-bones exhausted. But this isn’t the time to rest. Not when Jessie’s counting on me to make an impact on her bottom line.

I’m sitting at a table near the lake, enjoying the view while brainstorming ideas. It’s a shame the Valentines are set on selling the camp—if I was able to implement some bigger structural and systematic changes, I have no doubt I could turn this whole operation around.

I’d need to study the finances, but based on what I’ve observed, there’s a lot of untapped potential. Take the cabins—a little winterization would make them livable for another five months each year, opening additional revenue streams, like corporate retreats or artist residencies. And weddings! From the looks of all the canoodling by the farewell campfire last night, several campers arrived single, but left as couples. It seems you’re never too old to fall in love at camp.

I shiver, either from the breeze coming off the lake or from the memory of Cooper’s eyes finding mine over the campfire last night, like he was singing just for me.

As expected, Cooper had his fair share of attention from the lady campers this week, but from what I saw—and yes, I was watching—the interest wasn’t reciprocated. At least, it wasn’t acted on.

He hasn’t acted on his offer with me, either.

I’m pretty sure the ball is in my court, but I have no idea how to initiate a conversation, to let him know I’m interested in taking this fling from theoretical to actual. I suddenly sympathize with Aaron having to broach the topic of our so-called break.

No.I push the thought of Aaron away; he doesn’t belong here, even in my mind.

It’s telling how little I’ve thought of him since I arrived. How unbothered I am by the idea of him sleeping around. I’m more bothered by the idea ofCoopersleeping with other women, which makes no sense. But the thought of him sleeping with me and a rotating roster of campers just feels…icky.

Not very “fun” of me, I know. I need to get over my stupid hang-ups and go for it. I had a chance two nights ago back at the Lodge—Cooper’s room is across from mine, and we came into the hall at the same time. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. I was about to say something when Zoey opened her door, went to the bathroom, and spent a million years washing her face. Then Dot came out and the two of them started talking about how tonic and bananas are great natural remedies for leg cramps. Bananas!

My thoughts are interrupted by Jessie screaming, “Get out of here, you witch!”

Quickly, I slip my notebook into my bag and head back up to the main lawn to investigate. The campers should all be gone by now.

“Who are you calling a witch, bitch?” a male voice is yelling.

He doesn’t have an accent, so it can’t be Zac, and I can’t imagine Mr. Billy yelling. I pick up the pace, hoping it’s not Cooper. I can’t be friends, let alone friends with benefits, with a man who screams at a woman like that.

As I round the corner of the Arts and Crafts cabin, I see Jessie standing on the lawn, her hands on her hips. And she’s yelling at Luke. Luke?

“You’re such a coward,” Luke yells.

“At least I have a heart!” Jessie yells back, furious. “I hope a house falls on you!”

They pause, and Jessie’s body language relaxes. “That was great!” she says. “It’ll work perfectly for the scene with the Lion, the Scarecrow, and the two witches.”

What the…

I may have said that out loud, because Jessie turns to look in my direction.

“Hey, Hill!” she says, waving me over. “Want to help us workshop the script for the musical?”

Now this makes sense. Jessie has been working on the camp musical for the last two weeks—a spoof onThe Wizard of Oz. I wonder how she convinced Luke to help—he hasn’t participated in a single camp activity since he got here.

“Thanks for the offer,” I say, not wanting to be a third wheel. “I think I’m going to go for a walk. Good luck!”

Jessie gives me a quick wave, then focuses her attention back on Luke. I’m pretty sure she still has the hots for him. Hell, I’d have the hots for him if I didn’t already have a camp crush.

Which I think I do.

Not only is Cooper easy on the eyes, but every day last week, he saved a plate of leftovers for me. There is nothing sexier than a man who listens to what you tell him about yourself.

As a thank-you (and an excuse to spend more time with him), I’ve been drawing the menu board each night. I love playing with the colorful chalk and adding a little flair to whatever Cooper’s cooked up.

But now, since I told Jessie I was going for a walk, I guess I’m going for a walk.

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Just before six, I’m the first one to the dining hall for our staff dinner. If anyone asks, it’s because I’m starving—between the fresh air and the exercise, I really worked up an appetite—and not because I’m eager to talk to Cooper alone.

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