Page 19 of Camp Help Falling

Linda catches me in the lodge, where I’ve tucked myself into the camp office to finally spend some time responding to emails and working on a few more applications—something I thought I would get a little more time to do during the week. But with Oliver needing my help, it got pushed to the back burner.

“Are you not going home for the weekend?” she asks, stepping in and leaning on the corner of the desk. She’s changed out of her old jeans and t-shirt into a pair of wide-leg linen pants and fitted black shirt. Gold jewelry adorns her ears and wrists, and her strappy sandals don’t have a speck of dirt on them.

I give her a warm smile. Much like Oliver, she and Paul have done great for their first real week of camp, taking to everything a little easier than their son.

“No, my parents are in San Diego this weekend. Last-minute trip for Father’s Day.” I wave a hand at the computer in front of me. It’s older than the laptop I’ve been using for college over the last five years, but it works well enough for what we need it for here at camp. “Figured I’d get some other work done while I’ve got a few days of peace and quiet.”

“We’re headed into Garden City for the day. Why don’t you come with us? It would be so much better than staying here alone.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to crash your day with Paul.”

“It’s not crashing at all,” Paul says as he walks in, planting a sweet kiss on Linda’s cheek. “We’d love to have you with us.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” I’m scrambling for excuses now, not because I really want to stay here alone, but the way Paul is dressed to match his wife, it looks like the two of them are going into town for a date, and I don’t want to third wheel. Been there, done that. Not interested in doing it again with a happily married couple. A thought pops into my head. “We can’t leave Oliver here alone.”

“I’m not staying at camp today,” Oliver says as he rounds into the camp office as well. Were the two men hiding out in the hallway, waiting for those perfect dramatic entrances, or was it luck that they waltzed in when they did? Either way, the office is getting crowded as Oliver steps past his dad, coming to my side of the desk. I spin on the chair to look up at him.

He looks at me with that dazzling smile. “Come with us.” Paul and Linda watch me with expectant smiles, and I swear Oliver leans just a little closer, barely brushing my arm with his hand. I hesitate a moment longer, and his hand brushes along my shoulder again, purposely this time, and I have to suppress a shiver.

“A day in Garden City does sound more fun than staying at camp by myself.”

And that’s how I find myself in the back seat of Paul’s truck as he drives the four of us over washboard roads, down winding canyons, and into the picturesque little town of Garden City, Utah.

My phone is abuzz with text messages as soon as I get cell reception. It’s been a few nights since I’ve been to Cell Phone Rock—I don’t want or need any of the youth staff catching on to my late-night wanderings, so I don’t make the trek up there every night—and the texts are flying in. So many from the Sunny Girls, all chatting back and forth to each other, while I’m on the outside of the conversation. I respond to all the important ones, like Brooke’s mic drop about permanently relocating to California, and send a lengthy one to my dad, since I most likely won’t get to tomorrow, wishing him a Happy Father’s Day.

The back seat of the truck is big enough that, even though we’re jostled back and forth like the insides of a maraca, Oliver and I only brush shoulders on some of the bigger bumps. Which is a good thing. We flirted the purple line in the office when he convinced me to come, and even though Paul and Linda didn’t say anything about it, I would hate to blatantly break that rule in front of them after being so strict about it with the youth staff. And with their son, no less.

We go to a cute little restaurant for brunch and then walk through town, just one of many tourists that make their way up to Bear Lake for a weekend on the water.

“Is there anywhere I can get another pair of jeans?” Oliver asks me after we follow his parents down a pathway to one of the many beaches around the lake. I watch his hands run over his thighs, only now noticing that his jeans have a slight brown tinge to them. “I only brought one pair.”

“Here? Probably not. Things are pretty limited around Bear Lake, but it’s only about an hour into Logan, if you want to find something there.”

“Hey Dad!” Oliver calls to Paul, who is walking ahead of us with his wife. “Can I borrow your truck?”

Paul and Linda stop on the sidewalk, waiting for us to catch up. “Why?” he asks as he digs around in his pocket.

“Sadie and I have a little shopping to do. I need new jeans, and she needs a new watch.” Oliver shoots me a sidelong glance. A knowing little look that says I wasn’t as convincing as I thought I was the day we took a dive in the lake.

“Sure thing.” Paul pulls his keys out and extends them to his son. “Your mom and I will just walk around town until you get back.” He smiles at Oliver, then me, and then turns back to Linda and offers his arm for her to take.

I want to object—I can’t deprive them of their vehicle for the hours it’s going to take to get to Logan and back—but Oliver places a light hand on the middle of my back and steers me the opposite direction we’d been walking, back to where the truck is parked.

“They’ll be fine, Sadie. It’s not like we’ll be gone the whole day.” He smiles down at me, and I drop my fight, letting him guide me back to the truck. I don’t shake off his hand—we are off Camp Brower property, after all.

A little touch like this isn’t a big deal.

“Divide and conquer?” I ask as we step into Walmart. It’s busy with families, especially for a Saturday, but that’s most likely because of tomorrow’s holiday. Oliver steps toward me with a sly smile on his face as he takes my hand and wraps it around his elbow, pulling me into his side.

“Really?” I ask, half-heartedly attempting to pull out of his grasp, but it’s the other half of my mind that wins that battle. We are technically off camp property. There are no other camp staff around. Whatever this…thing…is between me and Oliver can come out to play for a little bit.

“Relax, Sadie.” Oliver pats my hand and pulls me farther into the store, following the department signs hanging from the ceiling. And it’s like he can read my mind. “We’re out of camp. This isn’t considered purpling, it’s considered…”

What? My brain screams, wanting to know if Oliver thinks what I think he’s implying.

“Regular human connection.”

My heart falls. Part of me was hoping that he’s just come out and say what he means instead of leaving these flirtatious, cryptic clues. But instead, I’m juggling his flirty actions during the week and his blasé dismissal of what could be a “serious offense” back at camp.

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