Page 23 of Camp Help Falling

We don’t hold hands on the way down the mountain, but the air between us is charged with an electricity that crackles around my body with every step.

We made our decision at the top of the mountain, so we don’t say anything more about it as we cross back onto Camp Brower property. We don’t say anything about it as we join Paul and Linda for a simple breakfast, although we talk plenty about the hike and the views. They don’t give us any suspicious looks, and I wonder for a moment what they would think if I told them I liked their son.

If we were anywhere else, I’m sure they would both beam. Linda would pull me into one of those tight hugs. And Paul would probably roll his eyes, reminding his wife that Oliver and I are are only dating, not getting married.

But here, at Camp Brower, they’re not just Oliver’s parents. They’re the camp owners. My bosses. The final enforcers of the Purple Rule that Oliver and I are skirting on a technicality.

After eating, we all go our separate ways to prepare for the returning staff. I hang out in the lodge, doing my laundry while I use the camp office computer to check emails and apply for a few new jobs. I haven’t heard back from anywhere I’ve applied so far, but I have almost two months left at camp—there’s still plenty of time for something to come through.

The little devil on my shoulder whispers, “Who would know?” every time Oliver passes through the lodge, tempting me to purple with him. Just a little. My hands itch to grab his when he leans over my shoulder while I sit at a table, preparing for the coming week’s participants. His breath on my cheek as he asks about what I’m doing makes me want to turn and find out how he kisses.

But I can’t. We can’t.

When the first car rolls into the parking lot, Oliver’s open flirting becomes furtive glances and secret smiles. A wink here and there when everyone’s backs are turned. Anything and everything to get a reaction out of me—all of which work—while trying to keep anyone from suspecting what we talked about at the top of the mountain that morning.

Monday dawns bright and clear, like even the weather knows something shifted between me and Oliver yesterday and it wants to celebrate. Despite the early morning, the entire staff is excited for the second week of camp, and with a week of experience under our belts, everything from unloading the food truck to participant check-in runs smoother than the week before.

Before I know it, we’ve made it through a full day of meeting, greeting, and orienting a new batch of camp participants. I hardly had to step in and help Oliver, who looks more comfortable with the campers than he did last week. I’m able to wander around the camp and check on the other areas, take a break and chat with Danielle while her two kids play fight with sticks in front of the lodge, and go over camp business with Paul and Linda.

The campfire goes off without a hitch (the fire lights on the first try) and it’s shaping up to be the beginning of a perfect week.

But Tuesday morning, crap hits the fan. At least for Tyler and Danielle. Tyler looks like he hasn’t slept a wink when he finally descends from his family’s room long after the breakfast line has vanished.

“The kids must have brought back a stomach bug from spending time with their cousins this weekend,” he explains as he pops a covered plate of food in the microwave—one of two plates I made for him and Danielle after neither of them made it down to help cook or serve breakfast. “I don’t think any of us slept until sometime around six.”

“Dang, Tyler, I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?” Stepping in and lending Linda a hand this morning was just the beginning. If there’s any way to help my friends, I will.

“Could you take my spot on the excursions today? I don’t want to leave Danielle with the kids like this. I’ll help out around camp, but I want to be here, in case they need me.”

His sentence is punctuated by a wail from upstairs. “Tyler! Finn is throwing up again!”

Tyler pushes past me, food forgotten in the microwave. I follow him down the hall. “I’ll handle the excursions. You worry about your family.”

Tyler turns when he hits the stairs, mouths a quick “thank you” before dashing up, calling back to his wife. “I’m coming, Danielle!”

One day turns into two; two turns into Danielle and Tyler catching the bug their kids brought to camp, and them choosing to quarantine in their room—Finn and Harmony entertained by tablets and the notes Linda passes under the door.

I take over Tyler’s responsibilities while he helps as much as he can around camp with a sick family. Paul and Linda dote on them like they’re their own kids, and I catch Oliver smiling at the notes Linda takes upstairs and slips under the door for Finn and Harmony.

All my thoughts of flirting with Oliver without getting caught go out the window, even though I chaperone an excursion to Paris Ice Caves with him on Wednesday. But there’s not really much time to stand around and make doe eyes when you’re spelunking with a group of twenty-four teenagers who think throwing icy snowballs at each other is their idea of a good time.

By the end of each night, I’m too tired to do anything more than stay up late enough to do the final curfew check before I hide myself away in my cabin, desperate to get some rest to prepare for the next day.

Chapter Fourteen

Oliver

It would be just my luck that after Sadie finally agrees to give something with me a shot while we’re off Camp Brower property, she takes Tyler’s place on the out-of-camp excursions. Yes, we’re out of camp, but the Purple Rule is still in effect due to the proximity of the campers. While I want to have some moments with Sadie, I also don’t want to be ratted out to my parents by a twelve-year-old with braces.

So I tuck every thought about pulling Sadie to me into the back of my mind and spur our group of participants and youth staff along the boardwalk to the cave entrance.

The area surrounding Minnetonka Cave is beautiful. Pines tower above us and a winding road cuts through the mountains. Unlike Camp Brower’s, the road is paved all the way to the parking lot, which is heaven on the suspension of the two large vans Sadie and I drive to transport the campers.

We gather near the cave entrance, and I stand at the back of the group, herding curious teenagers away from the drop off behind me and toward the cool air wafting out of the cave mouth.

The tour guide, a young college student named Naomi, gets the group’s attention, and we all squeeze forward in an effort to hear her better.

“I’m so excited you guys came out to Minnetonka Cave today! We’re going to see some really cool things inside, but first we have to go over an important housekeeping rule. Minnetonka is a live karst limestone cave, which means the formations you are going to see today are still growing. Due to this, we ask you to be respectful and to not touch any part of the cave walls or formations unless you are given explicit permission to do so. The oils on our hands can interfere with how the minerals in the dripping water interact with the formations, which can halt their growth.”

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