Chapter 2: Second Day of Camp

Second Day of Camp Tuesday, August 15, 4:58 AM, Belews Lake

Stupid! Stupid! Miles’s heart jackhammered against his sternum. This was so unnecessary and stupid.

He trod the water, bombarded by the volley of thoughts contemplating what to do.

Swim to the other shore? No way, this lake is huge. I can’t do that. The soft sound of the water caressing the dock and shore didn’t soothe him like it normally would have.

Isn’t there an island in this lake? I could swim there. And hide out ... Forever? Mom would understand. Zo and I would have to really hone our Twin Telepathy. No. That’s stupid. Last time we tried to test that out we mixed up our messages and were grounded for months.

Another shift in the clouds threatened to showcase him to the stranger. What if I were to ... drown? Yup. Drowning is an option. But that means instead of one person seeing me naked, there would be ... who knows how many?

He crossed off each option as soon as he conjured them. There was only one choice that made any amount of sense to him. Swim back.

Who is this person? Are they watching me? It’s not like they haven’t seen and heard me splashing around.

He slowly made his way back to the dock. The clouds continued shifting. Again shielding the individual from any light.

Maybe I can just grab my stuff, get dressed, and go back to the cabin like nothing happened. He tried to convince himself as he got near.

He swam to the opposite side of the dock than where he’d seen the figure. Within seconds his fingers gripped the ladder to pull himself out, but a voice called out before he had the chance.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” it was a whisper, but Miles could still determine one thing.

A girl! Do I know her? Heck, I’m not sure I could pick out any of the voices from the girls I’ve met this week.

The realization caused him to hesitate. Another sound gave him further pause.

Splashing. Soft but getting louder. She’s coming around to this side of the dock.!

“I didn’t want to interrupt your swim.”

“I didn’t realize there was anyone here,” he blurted.

Climb out. Grab your stuff. Run back.

He felt like the dock had stretched a mile from the shore, and as he looked back towards land the clouds parted again, giving the impression the planks themselves were emitting light. He regretted deciding to go without his shorts.

“You don’t have to go,” there was a note of reluctance in her voice.

He relaxed slightly and turned towards her. It was too dark to make out any distinct features. For minutes, neither of them moved. The occasional moonlight cutting through the clouds only allowed him enough time to get a general idea. Their infrequent breaks didn’t provide his eyes the time needed to take in anything but the most superficial qualities.

Her face was lean, her skin pale, and her hair hidden beneath a swimmer’s cap. The light once again disappeared.

Now! Go now!

As his inner monologue screamed at him to escape, the sound of splashing startled him.

She’s swimming away?

He pulled on the ladder until his torso was out of the water, but stopped and looked towards the lake. As if the light sought her out, the skies illuminated her. She had stopped swimming at least 25 yards away and turned to face him. Though he felt he could see her more clearly, she was still too far away and the night sky too ill-defined to see her properly.

Leave! Run back to camp! She doesn’t know who you are. She can’t see you. She can’t catch you.

The voice in his head was deafening, but it was as if he had no control over himself as he pushed off the ladder and caught up to her in a couple of seconds.

“Woah, you’re fast,” exclaimed the mystery woman as she began back towards the dock.

“I couldn’t help admiring your form when you swam off,” he mused as he followed.

Upon reaching the dock, she pushed off again. They continued in this fashion for several laps, with him always just reaching her before she turned and swam away.

Unexpectedly, she stopped halfway and turned towards him.

He hadn’t anticipated her stopping so suddenly, causing him to nearly collide with her. Instead, they just found themselves treading water mere inches away from one another.

Why is she panting? Wait, why am I panting? We weren’t swimming that long. They tread the water, mere inches between them. She’s so close. I could touch her if I tried.

Again, they were at the mercy of the short bursts of moonlight to allow their eyes to function properly. He lost track of how long they floated next to one another. Every time the light shone through, his heart pounded harder.

She brought a hand out of the water and let her fingers drape gently down his cheek and chin.

“Scruffy,” she murmured.

Miles had always been told to smile when talking on the phone because people would be able to hear it in his voice, the sound of her’s proved this theory to be true.

Emboldened by her establishing physical contact, Miles brought a hand under her chin and guided her face closer to his own. She made no effort to pull away, and leaned towards him instead.

Any shred of reluctance evaporated as her tongue invaded his mouth. He enthusiastically brought her the same experience. Instinct took over, and he wrapped an arm around her to pull her against himself.

She led his other hand to her chest. There was no fabric guarding it from his touch. His fingers encircled her erect nipple and tugged.

She let out a soft moan and plunged her tongue deeper into his mouth in response.

Without even realizing it, they began grinding their pelvises toward one another.

He was so enraptured in the sensation he wasn’t aware of his own erection until it brushed against her.

He expected her to pull away.

To say ‘no’.

Instead, her hand found its way to his hip.

She was guiding him to her.

The alarm on his watch going off snapped his focus away from the moment.

Immediately, they both came back to reality and pulled away.

“I don’t know what came over me,” she stammered. “I ... uh-”

“Me neither,” Miles confessed, glancing at his watch to turn off the alarm.

Shit! Did I set it wrong? This thing was supposed to go off 20 minutes ago.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he stated before racing towards the dock. His adrenaline from the rollercoaster of fear of potentially getting caught turning into a sexual encounter, caused his brain to fail to consider anything apart from getting back to the campsite.

I still have over an hour before anyone is going to expect me to get up. Even if some of the chaperones get up particularly early, there’s little chance for them to catch me.

Despite telling himself these things, he didn’t slow a bit. He scurried towards camp while haphazardly getting his clothes on. He held his arms in front of him as he scrambled through the woods. It didn’t keep him from tripping over a tree root, though it did spare him from plowing through a thorn bush. The vacant space next to the bush turned out to be a mud puddle. In spite of mother nature’s efforts, nothing prevented him from getting back to camp. He emerged on the other side and entered the bathrooms nearly at full speed.

He stood under the shower head and eyed the handle in front of him.

A hot shower does sound nice, but... He thought about what transpired. Cold shower! Definitely needs to be a cold shower.

He turned the handle and stood under the water, replaying the past two hours in his head.

What the hell just happened? Who was that? What kind of person skinny dips while wearing a swimming cap? A crazy one, that’s who. And you almost...

A million thoughts careened through his head, too fast to process.

He washed until his heart was no longer pounding in his ears and his breathing returned to normal. He exited the bathrooms and headed back to his cabin, feeling more nervous about getting caught than he had when he left.

The door to the cabin creaked louder upon his return. Every rung on the ladder to his bunk, a gong being hit as his feet made contact. The zipper on the sleeping bag, the whirr of a saw blade as his fingers pulled it down. As he climbed inside, he couldn’t help but compare his sound to that of a dog trampling dried leaves before lying down.

Miles looked around, expecting to see every person in the room glaring at him for the cacophony he had just conducted. Instead, everyone was sleeping soundly. The questions were still racing through his mind, though they were slower now and capable of being deciphered. Alas, he still had no answers for them. The one thing Miles knew for certain was that he wouldn’t get any more sleep tonight.

The night had gone so differently than she’d imagined. The bed in her cabin brought little comfort. She may have been unhappy with her life, but that was no excuse to make out with a complete stranger. Push him to feel her up. Who knows what would have happened if he didn’t pull away when he did. She was simultaneously humiliated that he ran off and extremely grateful things hadn’t gone further. She turned to face her pillow, let out a sigh, and began to weep.

6:30 AM, Belews Lake Campground

Zoe had been nervous when she found out they’d have to go on the retreat. She was a capable drummer and she loved music. But she wasn’t Miles. This wasn’t her passion. She couldn’t pick up an instrument and have it sound good after fooling around with it for 30 minutes.

She grabbed a couple of towels, a pair of gym clothes she’d been assigned the day before, and her toiletries bag before heading out to the bathrooms.

She showered, got dressed, and perched in front of the mirror waiting for it to unfog as she pat her hair dry. At least a dozen girls yesterday had mentioned how incredible her hair looked, or how on-point her makeup had been. Today would be no different.

Other girls just aren’t willing to put forth the effort. She told herself as her image started coming into focus.

Once the mirror was clear, she began working on her hair. It was the most time-consuming part of her routine. The trickiest part was using the hair itself to hide where the bobby pins went.

Clips are for displaying. They’re ornamental. Bobby pins do the real work. And should never be seen. She smirked as she recalled the first time she’d read those instructions. That had been years ago; when it took her over an hour to get her hair perfect. It started with meticulously looking up how pin-up models wore their hair and doing her best to emulate it. After many years, she could do it without any guidance.

It was one thing to be pretty. Which she was more than aware she was. Pretty was never something she set out to be. She wanted to look like something more, and she was willing to put forth the effort to make it happen. She wanted to be the person who walked into a room and made heads turn.

She wanted to be a bombshell.

Zoe was always careful to be friendly with boys but never flirtatious unless she intended to be pursued (she would never be the one to chase) and once she had a boy truly interested, she enjoyed playing hard to get. She didn’t consider it a “sport” or a “game”, but she thought of herself as a lady, and the last thing anyone would think of this lady was that she was “easy”.

Or at least she intended for it to be that way.

But she had yet to meet a guy she felt was worth the effort. It wasn’t too big of a deal though. She and Miles had just turned 18 earlier in the summer, and she felt no social need to lose her virginity. If only her hormones would get on board, it wouldn’t even be a concern.

Girls were often harder to befriend. Some girls didn’t care and were easy to get along with. Cleo seemed to fit into this category.

Others only appeared that way until the guy they wanted couldn’t keep his eyes off of Zoe.

It’s not my fault. If those girls put the same effort into keeping their man interested as they do worrying about me then I shouldn’t even be a blip on their radar.

She finished her hair and glanced at her watch. Still 20 min before everyone woke up. She had plenty of time to put on her primer, foundation, concealer, bronzer, highlighter, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara, give her eyebrows some finishing touches, apply her lipstick, and then set everything with a powder and spray. Top it all off with a bandana.

She smiled at her reflection. The face in the mirror would catch the eye of anyone she came across. To her left and right, no one who could make the same claim.

Yeah, other girls just aren’t willing to put forth the effort.

7:30 AM, Belews Lake Cabin

Cleo didn’t understand what she was looking at. She climbed down from the top bunk, expecting to see her new friend struggling to wake up, and instead, she saw someone who jumped off the page of a magazine.

“Wha- How? When the heck did you do this?” As she asked a bit of drool that had dried to her chin flake off.

“Do you really want to know?” Zoe replied with a sultry grin. Her fingers twisting a Rubik’s cube into its natural position. Cleo stared in wonder, having made little progress on the cube she’d been gifted after returning from the bonfire the night before.

“Well, if she doesn’t I sure as heck do,” Amber announced from the bunk across from them. A couple of the other girls leaned in to hear the answer as well.

Zoe put the object away and looked the girls over. She brought a hand up and crooked her finger, beckoning the others to get closer, she glanced both ways as if she were concerned someone might overhear government secrets, then leaned forward.

“I’ve been up for over an hour,” she whispered.

The faces that did not turn to disgust instead looked horrified. The whole group then turned to laughter, which just earned them scowls and groans from those who hadn’t been close enough to be in on the conversation and were barely awake.

“So ... it’s not ‘beauty sleep’?” Judy, who had the bunk above Amber, asked.

“Hate to break it to ya,” Zoe chuckled as she paced between the nearby bunks.

“So ... could you not sleep?” Amber asked. “I know the cots aren’t the most comfortable-”

“Comfortable?” Judy laughed. “The way these things sag when you lay on them, I’m half expecting to fall through when I lay down. No one could think they’re anywhere near the realm of ‘comfortable’.”

“They’re not so bad,” Zoe said. “You ever tried sleeping on a boat? You get used to a lot worse.”

“A boat?” Cleo sat up at the thought. “Why were you on a boat? Does your family own a boat? How big of a boat? Is it just one boat? Ohhhh, what’s the difference between a boat and a yacht?”

Zoe smirked, “Have you never been on a boat?”

Cleo blushed and shook her head.

“Is it really that bad trying to sleep on a boat?” Amber asked.

“I used to have a heck of a time with it. Now, nothing puts me out like the gentle rocking of the waves.”

“Pretty sure I’d get seasick if I tried that.”

“Yeah,” Cleo nodded. “Wait ... I’m pretty sure my parents used to drive me around if I couldn’t sleep when I was a baby.”

“Could accomplish the same thing by putting a car seat on top of the dryer,” Lindsay spoke up.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“What sounds dangerous is the amount of laps Tamara is going to have us running if you don’t get out of bed in the next two seconds.”

Cleo looked around and realized everyone else was up and about.

“Shit, give me a second. I’ll get changed real quick and we can head out,” Cleo said as she pulled her sleep shirt above her head. “It’s bad enough everyone is going to be gawking at you for looking like a beauty queen. I don’t need them also noticing us arriving late.”

Cleo has a lot going on, Zoe observed. Yeah, she’s short, but she’s busty. She needs to stop hiding those mahogany eyes behind her hair. Her hearty lips are just begging for some lipstick to emphasize their shape. And... Cleo kicked off the shorts she’d been sleeping in. Oof, she’s gonna wanna do something about that!

As Zoe turned to avert her gaze, she noticed Lindsay had seen her watching Cleo stripping. Lindsay shook her head and mimed turning a key in front of her mouth.

Great, now she thinks you’re into Cleo. Note to self: Don’t gawk at the other girls when they’re naked.

“Hey,” Zoe whispered, trying not to be overheard by the others. Cleo looked over. “Would you ever want me to do your makeup?”

A quick series of emotions displayed across Cleo’s face before landing on something contemplative.

“Just makeup?”

“I ... uh ... you want your hair done too?” Zoe hadn’t anticipated the follow-up question.

“Mm-hmm,” purred Cleo.

Cutting and styling was a bit out of Zoe’s wheelhouse, but she figured they could make a day of it.

“Wanna schedule a trip to a stylist when we get back?”

Cleo gasped.

“I know just the place!” The small girl exclaimed. “The one where Sarah goes. Oh, this is going to be so great! What a way to start the year. I always wondered how I’d look with straight hair and ... and...”

Cleo lunged from the cot and wrapped her arms around Zoe. The other girls in the room briefly stopped what they were doing to glance at the disruption.

“Uh ... Cleo?” Zoe said tentatively. “Can we make a rule that in the future you’ll have pants on when you hug me?”

“Oh, God,” Cleo scrambled to grab fresh clothes to change into. “I got carried away.”

“That’s an understatement. Just be glad no one was opening the door at the time.”

As Zoe laughed she caught Lindsay giving her a thumbs-up.

I can see this going so well.

Once Cleo was fully dressed, they made for the field for the pre-meal exercises.

“Can you really make me look pretty like you? Or at least as pretty as Seph or Sarah? Do you think I can be pretty enough for Miles to notice me? Wait, is Miles seeing anyone? Oh! My! God! Are you seeing anyone? Do you have a boyfriend back in Portland? Are you gonna try long distance? Or did you end things before you had to move away?”

In the short time they’d known each other, Zoe found the more excited about something Cleo was, the more questions she’d ask in rapid succession. It was endearing and exhausting. It also made it a nightmare when she’d truly caught interest in a subject.

“Let me see if I can decipher everything you asked,” Zoe took a second to process the girls questions. “You’re already pretty, and if I ever hear you say anything that sounds like you don’t believe that again, I’ll give you a swift kick to the butt. And if I hear anyone else say something like that, I’ll gouge their eyes out since they clearly aren’t using them.”

The compliment caught Cleo completely off guard, she took a deep breath as she tried to come up with a reply but resolved to just offer a simple “Thank you,” and a smile.

“You’ve mentioned her twice now. Have I met Sarah? Or is it ... is it two girls named Sarah.” Zoe was flipping through her mental Rolodex of all the girls she’d met recently.

“Oh right, I guess not,” Cleo began explaining. “No, it’s just one person. She’s not in band, but you’ll meet her at school. She’s probably the only girl prettier than Seph. Well, until you got here. And she’s been class president the past two years. She’s the smartest, most popular girl in school. Seriously, when you meet her, you’ll wanna be her best friend, and suddenly, it’ll be like, ‘Cleo who?’.”

“Are you really that determined to get me to kick your butt?”

“What? No. I can say with confidence I don’t want that.”

“Cleo,” Zoe said in the most serious tone she could muster, “You made me feel welcome when I was scared and alone. I’m not going to just forget about you.”

“I ... It’s just that ... Everybody loves her...” her tone took on a very introspective property. “If she hadn’t gotten me into the Misfits, I don’t think anyone would even notice me. And I never would have developed my confidence.”

Did Cleo see absolutely no value in herself before meeting this Sarah girl? I’m definitely going to need to learn more before I have a clear understanding of the picture. Also, aren’t The Misfits a band Miles has talked about? How do they fit into all of this?

“Cleo, you just said-”

“Everybody loves her? I know. I’m not even being hypnobolic, like ... every guy has a crush on her.”

“Pretty sure you mean hyperbolic. And is it only guys or am I detecting a bit of a girl crush?”

“What?” Cleo whipped her head around, panic in her eyes. “No! No. It’s not like that. I just- you’ll understand when you meet her.”

“I’ll develop a bit of a girl crush?” Zoe smirked.

“No. That’s not what-” Cleo looked her new friend up and down. “Maybe she’ll get one on you. OR maybe...”

“Cleo?”

“Shhhh. I’m picturing something right now.”

Zoe playfully swat her arm. “Don’t be mean.”

The girls lined up among the other percussionists at the side of the field. Tamara stood in front of them and barked orders about the activities they’d be doing before breakfast.

“What were the other questions?” Whispered Zoe once the instructions ended.

“Your brother?” The optimism in Cleo’s voice was palpable.

“Right. If we’re going to do this, it’s not going to be for a boy. We’re going to do this because you’re a beautiful young woman, and it’s about time you and the rest of the world knew it.” There was a bossiness to Zoe’s voice she hadn’t intended to be there.

For the first time since they’d met, Cleo seemed to be at a loss for words. Her eyes unfocused as she considered Zoe’s words.

A smile took over her face.

The whistle blew and they took off running.

9:30 AM, Cafeteria

The percussionists filed out of the cafeteria quicker than they had the previous day.

Miles to Zoe. Come in, Zoe. Are you reading me? If you’re getting this then meet me outside the cafeteria. An image from the morning’s swim popped into his head. Shit! No. Don’t send that. Disregard. I repeat disre-

“Dude!” Chris finally caught up. “You got a headache or something?”

Miles brought his fingers away from his temple. “No, I was just ... thinking.”

“You ditched me after the sprints.”

“Oh, uh ... are we eating together?”

“I mean, not if you’ve got someone else to eat with. From what we saw yesterday, we figured you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“We?”

Joe flanked Miles’s free side. “Uh-huh. And I’m pretty sure until they get to know you, or at least get over Tanner being a dram queen, you’d appreciate our company better than the rest of the section.”

“Right,” Miles chuckled. “It’s just ... I- uh ... nevermind.”

“Something you wanna talk about?”

You’re nice and all. But practically a stranger.

“Aside from how you can stand this humidity while still wearing sweats and a hat? I don’t think I’m ready to share,” he tried to take the attention off himself.

“You get used to it when your dad believes that a summer spent indoors is wasted.”

Miles forced himself to not roll his eyes. Joe is better at avoiding answering questions than I am.

“If you need to talk about something, we’re not a bad audience,” Joe offered.

“Zoe is usually my sounding board,” Miles said before admitting. “But it’s not really a conversation we would usually have.”

“That’s gonna be tough dude; we usually don’t get to meet with the drum line until after dinner,” Chris stated. The last of the percussionists exited the room and the trio made their way in.

“Ah, right ... shit!”

So much for twin-telepathy.

“Woah, what’s with the language?” Chris chided.

“Sorry. Frustrated.”

“Okay, if it’s that serious, we’ll sneak off. But if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you,” Joe said with a frightening amount of enthusiasm. “Chris, how do you feel about Operation: Upchuck?”

“No! No! Never again!” Chris insisted.

Clearly I don’t want to know.

“Hold your horses, or whatever the Southern expression is,” Miles said. “I was just annoyed that I didn’t see Zo when they were exiting the cafeteria.”

Chris scowled at Joe, “And you wanted me to initiate Operation: Upchuck.”

Miles grabbed a tray and a slice of sandwich. Please don’t explain what that means before we sit to eat.

“Was it gonna be that quick a conversation? It doesn’t even sound like you know what, if anything, you wanna say,” Joe observed while grabbing a sandwich and a fruit cup.

“Yeah, but it’s like ... it’s a twin thing. Every so often we just sorta know what the other one is thinking,” Miles explained as the group planted themselves at an open table.

“I dunno how I’d feel about that,” Chris tried to picture someone reading his thoughts.

“Yeah, like imagine ... if you were in the middle of-” Joe’s voice was shaky

“Don’t be gross!” Chris had thought the same thing.

“How’re you guys holding up?” Persephone asked as she sat down next to Miles.

“Oof, why did it have to rain last night? It sucks running in mud,” griped Chris.

“How’s the school field? It get muddy?” Miles was grateful for the change of subject.

“You might say that,” Chris said coyly.

Miles glanced around the table and noted both Seph and Joe chuckle to themselves.

“Am I missing something?” Miles murmered.

“Eh, we should spare you the details for now,” Seph decided for the group. “You’ll hear about the ‘Mud Bowl’ for months.”

“Mud Bowl? Wait, it gets so bad they named an event after it?”

“Oh yeah! You better get used to it,” Topher appeared out of nowhere, accompanied by a couple of girls who joined them at their table.

Seph took over the role of host.

“Girls, this is Miles. New trumpet player.”

He turned to see whom he was being introduced to.

“Miles this is Pixie, she plays flute and, in jazz band, sax.”

Miles recognized but couldn’t place her. He took a second to study her. Her face was developed and womanly, unlike the rest of her body. Her haircut matched her name and was accentuated by her natural brunette roots, contrasting her otherwise bleached hair.

Even seated, there was no hiding her small size, that wasn’t merely a vertical issue. He questioned whether she’d even weigh 100 pounds if she were soaking wet and holding weights in each hand. Regardless, when he looked her in the eyes, there was no mistaking it. She was absolutely stunning.

“Hello-o,” The girl seemed to sing the greeting at him.

“Pixie?” Miles wondered aloud, fearing a blush may have overtaken his face.

“I’m not going to live in North Carolina and go by Charlotte,” she put up a shrug that included a smile and a bit of a flourish, accompanied by batting her long-lashed baby blues at him.

“The name seems to suit you,” she smiled approvingly at his comment. Miles was fairly certain she was wearing lipstick, though it was nowhere near as bold as the shades his sister and Seph seemed to favor; there was no missing the eyeliner that she utilized to give herself cat eyes.

“Thank you,” she beamed at his observation. “You just moved here, right? House on Oak Street?”

“How’d you know?”

“You moved in on the fifth. You live with your mom and your sister. You have a motorcycle. You ride off before 5 AM each morning. Come back a little after 9.”

Miles looked at the other people at the table. Their smiles just added to his discomfort.

“I’ve been watching you, Miles,” the small girl said. “I know all your dirty little secrets.”

The hairs on the back of Miles’s neck stood on end. He found himself unable to maintain eye contact with those seated around him.

How can a girl so small be so scary?”

“Alright, Pix,” Chris chuckled. “You had your fun but enough is enough.”

“You ruined it, Sport,” Pixie laughed. “I totally had him going.”

While the others at the table burst into laughter and agreed with her statement, Miles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

“Relax, dude,” Chris pat him on the shoulder. “I got your back.”