Page 85 of Nerdplay
“Why do you think she lives for these two weeks at camp? Once she goes home, it’s another year before she does anything for herself. The memories of the fun she had at this year’s camp will help sustain her for the next twelve months.”
He releases a breath. “What about the other campers? Do they all have stories like that?”
“Everybody has a story, Charlie. That’s why it’s so important to cut people some slack. You never know what they’ve been through. Ben’s wife died a few years ago while he was battling cancer.”
“What happened to her?”
“She went for a walk on a windy day. Got hit by a tree branch and died.”
Charlie falls silent. I don’t blame him. It’s a tough story to hear. The brutal randomness of it. I marvel that Ben found the strength to keep fighting, but he did.
“These aren’t secrets, by the way. They’re very open about their struggles.”
“This isn’t a nerd camp. This is a wellness retreat.”
I feel my body relax. “You’re finally getting it.”
“Thank you for telling me. I feel like I know them a bit better now.”
“And they’d like to know you better, too. Everybody likes you, Charlie. Swag swap was an excellent start, but we both know there’s a lot more to you than a cherished baseball card.”
I feel the shift in energy the moment I mention the baseball card. His eyes shutter and I wish I could snatch back the comment. I was finally chipping away at that wall of his and now this one offhand remark would set me back a few bricks. Lesson learned.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It takes far more than that to upset me, Courtney.”
His use of my real name isn’t lost on me. Despite his protestation, he’s resetting a boundary. One more brick firmly back in place.
“It’s late. I should get some rest,” he says abruptly. “Stefan challenged me to a wizard duel for tomorrow. I have to prep.”
“How do you prep for a wizard duel?”
“For starters, find out what it is. If I need my own wand, I’m SOL.”
“Wands are provided, so don’t worry about that.” As much as I long to recover our lost ground, I recognize that I need to let him go. Charlie isn’t someone you can push. The more I press him, the more resistant he’ll become. I know this because I do the same thing, and the last time I let my guard down for someone I found attractive, I paid the price.
He exits the lake, his clothing stuck to his skin. I wait a couple minutes before following suit, to give him space.
“You two have gotten chummy. I guess he isn’t working for the Empire anymore,” Fiona says as she strides past me with her clothes tucked under her arm. Her Batman glow-in-the-dark camisole and underwear are dripping wet.
“I guess not,” I say, but I honestly have no idea.
No surprise that tonight I dream about Charlie. This isn’t the first time he’s been featured by my imagination, but it’s the first time his appearance involves sexy times. I think it’s because of his recent vulnerability. Of course, afterward, he reverted to his robot form and acted like we’d been formally introduced over a tray of caviar, or whatever they served at fancy lawyer parties.
He finds it hard to share his feelings, that much is obvious. Based on what he’s revealed about his family, I get the impression that he didn’t hear the words “I’m proud of you” very often, if ever. And I was proud of him for sharing at swag swap and for participating in karaoke. He was clearly reluctant, but he joined in, and even better, he was authentic, and that’s all I wanted for him. Maybe he’d feel better about our lake conversation in the light of day.
On the other hand, maybe I should consider his behavior a warning not to get emotionally involved. If he’s determined to be an island, let him be one instead of trying to establish a peninsula or an archipelago. I already serve as a bridge to my campers. If Charlie wants to join civilization, he’ll have to build his own.
Chapter Thirteen
Last night was … a lot. I’d never wanted to kiss a woman more in my life while simultaneously wanting to run from her. Cricket confuses the hell out of me, or more accurately, my own feelings confuse the hell out of me.
I manage to avoid her by spending the morning with the fan fiction club. To my surprise and relief, I find myself enjoying the collaborative nature of the work as well as the creative process. I may not have watched Supernatural, but I know enough about Sherlock to contribute. Of course, Fiona insists on showing me social media clips from Supernatural, allegedly to give me a better understanding of the show, although I suspect she simply likes ogling the actors. When the Internet connection acts up and we’re forced to abandon what must be the fortieth reel of two admittedly good-looking guys exchanging quips, I act disappointed.
When the activity block ends, I walk outside to heavy cloud cover and my phone bleeps with a weather alert for heavy rain, which Cricket must’ve also received because she cancels the evening’s fireside chat. Everyone decides to cram into the Danger Zone cabin. I’m not a fan of crowds in tight spaces, so I opt to go back to my cabin. Avoiding Cricket may also be a factor in my decision.
I catch sight of her entering the cabin with Stefan as fat raindrops begin to fall. No one’s outside at this point, which makes it the ideal opportunity to snoop in Cricket’s office. I make a beeline for the vacant cabin.
