Page 49 of Nerdplay
By the time I arrive inside the safety of my cabin, I am falling to pieces. More to the point, I am falling for Courtney Abernathy.
Chapter Seven
After a lakeside lunch, Gloria and I heed Esther’s call for ‘all hands on deck’ in the arts and crafts cabin. We collect our trash, careful not to leave anything that might attract wildlife, and amble through the residential area.
I slow my pace to listen. “I hear singing.”
Gloria’s brown eyes widen. “I think it’s coming from Charlie’s cabin.”
We exchange excited looks and creep toward the source of the sound. Sure enough, it’s Charlie’s voice raised in song.
Even better, that song is “Defying Gravity.”
We lean against the exterior wall outside his bathroom to listen. Gloria whips out her phone and hits record.
“Do you think he’ll go for the high notes?” she asks.
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
His voice strains and squeaks.
We burst into hysterical laughter. “He’s taken that song to new heights,” I say.
“Should I share the video in the group chat?”
“That seems cruel.” I pause. “Yes, let’s do it.” At the very least, we can hold on to it as leverage in the event we need any. No matter what he says, I don’t fully trust him. He’s a man, after all, and a lawyer to boot.
“Angela will be very pleased with herself,” I say. “That seed she planted has borne fruit.”
“He was really belting it out,” Gloria adds. “I think he was enjoying himself.”
I snort. “I guess we know what his karaoke song will be.”
“If he doesn’t sign up, we’ll do it for him.”
My stomach pinches. “Do you think this is hypocritical of us? Camp is supposed to be a safe space.”
“And Charlie came here to take that safe space away from us. We could do a lot worse than sharing his impressive vocal range.”
My resolve strengthens. “You’re right.”
We enter the arts and crafts cabin to find a small crowd gathered.
Wendy pushes a basket toward us. “Come on, ladies. These plushie penises aren’t going to crochet themselves.”
“I overcommitted, I know,” Esther says. “I won’t do it again, I swear.”
I hold up my hands. “We all know micro-coordination isn’t my thing.” The smaller the movement, the harder I find it.
Hunter glances up from the table with his usual intense expression. “If I can crochet a dick, anybody can.”
Esther studies me. “Cricket’s right. I remember the time she tried to use the emergency sewing kit on Ben’s shorts.” She offers me a curt nod. “You’re excused from duty.”
I don’t wait to be told twice. I exit the cabin and head straight to my office to get through a few more administrative tasks. I constantly put them off, which means they continue to build up into an insurmountable mountain of work.
Not for the first time since he arrived, Charlie’s face flashes in my mind. Gone is the cocky, hitched-up mouth, replaced by something far more earnest and, as much as I hate to admit it, far more appealing. The more vulnerable Charlie gets, the more dents he puts in my emotional armor, that bastard.
I will not soften toward Charles Widmore Pennyloafer VI. He isn’t one of us. In fact, he’s worse. He’s the antithesis of us. Charlie represents the establishment. The status quo. He’s the kind of guy who would’ve mocked us to his jock friends in the high school cafeteria for sport. For the hundredth time, I remind myself that he’s only pretending to be interested now because it’s the means to an end. I refuse to be fooled by another man pretending to be someone he isn’t. Been there, got the oversized Mumford & Sons T-shirt he left behind.
