Page 11 of Some Kind of Forever
“Wow, your eyes arereallyblue,” she gasps, gripping tighter as she steps in close and peers into my face. “Like, deep, dark blue… Sorry.” She smiles apologetically as I lean back in surprise. “I forget about the personal bubble sometimes.”
With a chuckle, I respond, “No worries. I could sit down if that makes it easier to see them…”
“Is that a short joke, Chase?”
I pinch my fingers together. “A little bit,” I tease again.
She wheezes a laugh and bumps my arm with her shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she says. “And funny. Where are you from?”
“I grew up in LA, but I just finished school down at Gradford.”
“Ooh, private school. You’refancy-fancy! I’m from here, but I go to ULA.”
“Born and raised?” I ask, wondering if she knows the mystery waitress at Patti’s Place. A couple more people have filtered in, and they sit in the chairs set up in the middle ofthe room.
“Nope, we moved from Vegas when I started middle school?—”
“Let’s get started with some housekeeping items,” Claire calls from across the room, closing the double doors to separate us from the noise down the hall. “Kayla’s on the way with lunch, and then we’ll do icebreakers and begin first aid certification.” She stands in the middle of the semicircle of chairs as we all gather, reading from an itinerary on her clipboard. “Tomorrow, we’ll do CPR, Thursday is both survival skills and mindfulness day, and Friday we’ll head to the art museum.”
I take a chair on the end, and Ashlie sits down next to me. “Since you’re from here, have you worked at this camp before?” I ask.
“Ew. No. I’m not a camper. The whole bug thing just…ew.” She shivers, sticking out her tongue. “I’m not even working for Camp Bender. I needed to renew my ‘certs’ for the museum, and this was the only training in town. After tomorrow, I’m all done.”
“Oh, nice. Which museum? My buddy and I are looking for things to do here.”
“The one on Main. The Visitor’s Center and Museum, across from Patti’s Place?—”
The slow creaking of the heavy metal door as it eases open across the room turns our attention. “Ugh, this stupid cart!” The door closes and creeps open again, the person on the other side clearly struggling. I make my way over and hold it open, standing behind it to hopefully help with the process. “The wheel is stuck. Hang on…” the voice says in an exasperated tone.
I peer around the door and freeze as the familiar scent of vanilla washes over me. Her back is turned, but I recognize the locs flowing down around her shoulders.
“Patty?” I ask, smiling wide.
She turns slowly, brows creased in the middle. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m one of the camp counselors,” I explain, moving back to make way for the cart.
“No…” Shaking her head, she glances over her shoulder at the group. She moves the cart over the threshold, toward the long tables on the wall, and expertly arranges disposable plates and utensils around the table. “Where’s Seth?” she asks, looking between the group and me, aluminum pan in hand.
“Hey, Kayla!” Claire bounces toward us. “Seth broke his wrist while backpacking in Iceland. Chase here so graciously stepped in last minute.” Changing gears, she looks toward the lunch spread out on the tables. “This food looks amazing! Dig in, guys!” Claire calls to the group.
“Kayla, eh?” A sly grin settles on my face.
She scrubs her hand over the frustration on her face and sighs. “Yes, Kayla. My name is Kayla. Surprise…” She makes a less than enthusiasticta-dagesture with her arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like the cat that ate the canary.”
“This is just how I look.” I shrug. My smile grows as I’m struck by how well her name suits her. Those piercing green eyes, the warm scent of spiced vanilla, and something else I can’t place, with one stray loc falling against her cheek.Kayla. I like it, and my fingers twitch just thinking of brushing that hair from her face.
“Hey, girl!” Ashlie sidles up to us.
“How do you know Kayla?” I ask.
“Uh, she’s my best friend.” She throws a sassy hand on her hip. “How doyouknow Kayla?”
Kayla groans while watching the exchange. As she brings her hands together, I notice she scrapes at one thumb nail with the other.
