Page 20 of Lady and the Camp
Cute, though. A real chill vibe existed here, despite the bare bones look to the place. I was super curious on these Trail Blazers. I reached for my non-existent phone and swore.
Gasps cascaded around the table.
“Language,” Maggie declared.
Seemed obvious. “English?”
She gave me a stern look. “Yourlanguage. Around the girls. No salty words.”
It wasn’t as if I’d dropped an F-bomb. But yeah, I should have been more aware being around impressionable young minds. “Sorry. If you have a swear jar, I’ll add to it.”
“What’s a swear jar?” a girl with crooked front teeth asked.
Maggie appeared less appreciative than she had earlier. “It’s where Miss Hudson will put her money if she says bad words again.”
Oh, bleep.
Okay, I needed to watch my mouth. And quit reaching for a phantom phone. As for my curiosity about the other camp, I’d just have to go over there myself.
For the remainder of the day, I joined each new camp activity, all with an accompanying commentary by the teen counselors and Maggie.
The girls got swim time at the lake that afternoon. A rocky section of sand bordered the water. Nothing to rival Venice Beach, but I scoped a few more-sand-than-rocks patches that could make for a decent spot to park a patio chair. Would a bikini be too much here?
Buoys bobbed in the water, marking a swim zone. As the campers took to the lake, I heard all about the water rules—and there were a lot of them.
Across the lake, a large windowed structure with a mega deck gaped at us. “Is that—”
“Trail Blazers’ lodge,” Maggie finished for me.
“Wow.” I clipped my adoration short. Being a Junebugger made the other camp the enemy. Seemed odd to be loyal so quickly, but something about Bianca’s recap of the camp split felt both cruel and familiar. People with money and power excluding others with that money and power.
As swim time ended, Maggie and Amy took the girls to their cabins to dry off and change.
Bianca hooked an arm into mine. “We have some free time. Let’s go to the Mess.”
I couldn’t wait to hear whatthatwas. Given I had nothing but time, I followed her willingly.
The Mess Hall, aka the Mess, instantly gave me flashbacks to elementary school. Like a cafeteria stock photo pulled directly from my memory.
The kitchen staff appeared obscenely chipper. Bianca introduced me to the head cook who wore a faded shirt from a famous metal band.
“Hey.” He nodded my direction. “I’m Pocket Pete.”
“Pocket?”
“Used to be two Petes here. Now I’m the only Pete. The name stuck. Because I’m short.” He shrugged. “Any dietary restrictions?”
Oh, good call. “I do a light Keto with Mediterranean influences. Fermented juices if you have them, but if not, I have a probiotic supplement in a pinch.”
Bianca steered me away from the kitchen. “You sound like a snob. The cooks are cool, so just eat what they have or give them a normal suggestion.”
Normal. What a word. Nothing was normal here. We were pretending to live in the woods while using a cafeteria with food cooked by paid staff. Camps were a real trip.
“Sorry,” I found myself saying as I scratched my legs. They were so darned itchy. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult.”
“No problem. Anyway, here comesLuke.” She snickered as none other than Lucas Russo himself entered the Mess.
“I know his name is Lucas…” I trailed off as my gaze followed him in.
