Page 9 of Make Out With A Merman

I stare at her for a full five seconds. “You’re serious.”

“As a noodle joust duel,” she says cheerfully.

Back at the dock, I catch sight of Callie leading cleanup. She’s got the kids doing a relay game to gather scattered floaties and pool toys, turning chaos into order in her own ridiculous way.

She catches me watching and tosses me a salute with a pool noodle.

“Captain Rules!” she calls. “Care to inspect the battlefield?”

I don’t answer.

But I do keep looking longer than I should.

She’s dripping wet, hair plastered to her cheeks, freckles brighter in the sun. Her laugh bounces across the water. It’s loud and messy and sincere. And it hits me like a punch to the sternum.

Disaster. Wrapped in freckles.

And now she’smydisaster to manage for a whole week.

As I’m gathering cones and resetting boundaries for the afternoon swim block, I hear footsteps slap onto the dock behind me.

“You know,” Callie says, voice way too chipper for someone who’s singlehandedly disrupted my entire week, “if you squint hard enough, you almost look like you’re having fun.”

I don’t turn. “I’m not.”

“Right,” she says, sidling up anyway. “Because ‘fun’ would violate subsection twelve of the Camp Lightring Lifeguard Grump Act.”

I face her. She’s grinning like this is a game.

“It’s not a joke,” I say. “What you did today? That float-jump stunt? Someone could’ve hit their head.”

She rolls her eyes. “They didn’t. You think I don’t know how to watch for that? I’m not reckless, I’m just not terrified of spontaneity.”

“No, you’re allergic to order.”

“No,” she counters, stepping in, “I just don’t think your version of control is the only one that keeps people safe.”

We’re close now. Closer than I meant to be. Her freckles are dusted with lake spray, and her eyes are fire.

“You’ve got one week,” I say, voice low. “You and me. Advanced Skills. Stick to the schedule. No unicorns. No surprises.”

“Sure,” she says sweetly, stepping back. “As long as you promise not to drown in your own ego.”

She spins on her heel and walks off, hips swaying just enough to make my jaw clench.

Disaster, I think again. Loud, chaotic,infuriatingdisaster.

And somehow, she’s under my skin already.

CHAPTER 5

CALLIE

The minute I step onto the Advanced Water Skills dock with Ryder standing next to me like a statue built entirely out of disapproval and muscle, I know we’re doomed.

“Morning, campers,” I chirp, tossing my clipboard into the supply bin like a frisbee. “Today we’re conquering the canoe challenge!”

“Today,” Ryder cuts in, voice like it’s been sandblasted smooth, “we’re beginning our joint instruction with a controlled multi-paddler navigation drill. Objective: teamwork, balance, and protocol.”

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