"Aw, if only I hadn’t left my magnifying glass back in the cabin, so I’m going to have to say no," I answered cheekily, hurrying down the path before he could counter.
"What took so long?" Amy asked as she opened the door to let me in.
"One guess, and here's a hint, it starts with 'D' and ends with 'head.'" I said, tossing the packages of socks onto the bed. "I seriously don't know what his deal is," I added, slumping down on my bed.
"You need a hint?" she teased.
"You're wrong." Amy was convinced that he had the hots for me and was just acting like some schoolboy with a crush.
"Oh yeah, that would be so hard to believe because you’re not gorgeous or anything,” she teased. “I guarantee he’s thinking the same thing you are."
“And what am I thinking?” I asked.
“Uh, that you wanna jump his bones.”
"Please," I sputtered. "He's sooo not my type," I lied.
"So, you expect me to believe that broad-shouldered, blond-haired, blued-eyed Greek Adonis replicas aren't your type? Right, I believe you—NOT."
"I'm serious..." I started to continue until I realized our conversation was being greedily eaten up by the preteen campers in the cabin. "Oh great," I muttered as they all giggled. Amy burst out laughing.
"Not funny," I said, hitting her head with the pillow I clutched in my hand. How mortifying would it be for Mason to hear that I had the hots for him?
"Don't worry, Kimbe," Amy said, calling me by the newly-coined nickname she made up for me.
"Right, why should I worry, now that ten impressionable girls, who are all about swoonworthy stuff, think I have the hots for my half/step/foster whatever the hell he is, brother?" I hissed.
Amy laughed as I continued to fume. I debated hitting her with the pillow again, but knew it wouldn't have the effect I was aiming for.
Maybe she sensed how close I was to the edge because she raised her hands. "I'm serious, Kimbe, it's all good," she said, turning to the girls whose noise level had increased as they mooned over my supposed love life. "Girls, tell Kimbe what the rules of the cabin are."
A petite girl with sparkling brown eyes and mousy brown hair stepped forward, still giggling. "This is the circle of trust," she said in a high-pitched voice as she swept her arms out to indicate the other girls.
"Circle of trust, huh?" I questioned.
"Yeah, what happens in Raven, stays in Raven," Parker piped in, giggling again.
That’s a relief. The last thing I needed was for Mason to have one more thing he could hold over my head. He was arrogant enough as it was. If he thought I actually liked him, he'd be unbearable. Luckily, I hate him, I thought to myself. Sure you do, a small voice at the back of my head taunted me.
Chapter 6
The rest of the morning flew by with one activity after another. Rick began the day by covering the camp rules, like never venturing beyond the camp without a partner, staying within the confines of the camp once the sun set and no visiting the cabins of the opposite sex.
"The trails here are marked relatively well, except for the expert trails we have set up for the older campers’ survival classes. You have to be in your last year to take the two expert trails. I have this set up for your own safety. Got me guys?" he asked, looking at a group of teenage boys who were grumbling about not being babies. I heard one of them brag that he could do the hardest trail with his eyes closed.
"Right, of course, tumbling down the mountain doesn't count as a completion," Mason teased him as he nudged him with his shoulder.
Mason's teasing started a chain reaction as the older guys became rowdy as they wrestled around.
Rick put two of his fingers in his mouth and blew out a shrill whistle that rang out around us. The guys stopped wrestling and straightened up their clothes, but I saw the original instigator nudge Mason one last time, earning him a stern look from Rick.
"Mason is right. The trails are labeled from easy to hard for a reason. Falling off the mountain may seem like a far-fetched idea, but the conditions along the trails can become dangerous from weather conditions and erosion. Even expert guides have been known to get injured on these trails. So, once again, the two expert trails are for our fifteen-year-old campers only, and only after they have completed every other trail with an average score of an eight or better.
"Score?" I whispered to Amy.
"Yeah, Rick came up with a checklist of certain things he expects the campers to accomplish with each trail they take. It rates you by aptness, speed and general knowledge of your surroundings. Most of the girls really don't care and never make it to the harder trails, but to the guys, it's like the Holy Grail or something," she whispered loudly to me, earning us a glare from Mason.
Without thinking, I stuck my tongue out at him, earning giggles from Parker and the blonde camper, Grace, who had asked me about Rick earlier.
"That’s mature," Amy teased, smiling at me.
"I can't help it, he brings out the worst in me," I grumbled, slouching down on the rough bench underneath me. I refrained from wiggling around. With my luck lately, I’d find a way to get a splinter in my ass for sure.
Rick closed up the opening comments by handing out schedules for the campers. I grabbed one of them and saw that I was scheduled to do arts and crafts in one-hour blocks. I had one session before lunch and three afterward.
"I'm off to row with the munchkins," Amy quipped, pointing toward the canoes by the lake.
"You teach rowing?" I asked, surprised. I somehow expected that to be Mason's forte.
"When it's cooler, like it is this summer, I do rowing. When it's warmer, I do swim lessons. By the way the weather seems to be acting this summer, I don't see a whole lot of opportunities for getting in the water."
"That's cool. I would have expected rowing to be more Mason's kind of thing," I admitted.
"LOL, I could see that. God knows the guy has the pecks and arms for it, but he teaches archery and is a guide," she said before loping off for the lake.
I made my way to the mess hall where the art room was located. Anxiety began to set in as I went through a mental checklist, reviewing everything I had spent the previous day setting up to my liking. At least I had an impressive amount of supplies at my disposal and had planned different projects that would take several days to complete.
My first group arrived as I was pulling out the necessary supplies for the day. It was the older boys, definitely the most intimidating group I would have. They were only three years younger than me, and it was obvious I was being blatantly checked out. I expected to hear some kind of innuendos, but at least they were remaining respectful, even though I could feel all their eyes watching every move I made. I couldn't help wondering if that was due to Rick.
"Okay, so today I thought we’d work with clay," I said, indicating the chunks of burnt orange-colored clay I had set on each table. "I've worked with this kind of clay before and it's pretty cool because it doesn't require baking to set..." My words were cut off when one of the boys chucked a rolled-up ball of the clay at his friend across the room. I knew I needed to say something, but it seemed awkward getting onto someone so close to my age. I was debating the best approach in my head to let him know I was in charge when another blob of clay flew across the room, nearly pegging me in the cheek. Before I could get a word out, an all-out clay war erupted among the rowdy boys who were all trying to tag each other. A boy across the room picked up one of the folding chairs to use as a shield and another climbed on top of the table for more accuracy. I ducked under the table, out of the line of fire after a small piece pelted me in the forehead. I knew I'd suck at this, I thought to myself as the shrieking and whooping hit painful decibels.