"Fine, but I don't want to sit anywhere near his smug self," I grumbled as we made our way to our cabin to clean up before dinner.
"Don't worry, my sista from another motha, I got your back," she teased, nudging me with her hip.
"Right, like I don't see your ploy."
"What?" she asked, feigning innocence.
"Um, let's see he's tall, has long auburn hair, eyes that could only be described as bedroom eyes and oh yeah, grins like a goon anytime you're around."
"Travis and I are just friends," she protested for the hundredth time over the last few days.
"Right, and I'm married to Channing Tatum," I teased.
"How can you be sure he doesn't just think of me as a friend?" she asked in a voice filled with insecurity.
"Because, Silly Nilly, those sexy eyes of his light up the instant you enter a room," I said.
"How come I don't see it?"
"Because some meek spirit from the Victorian era takes over your body anytime he's around. I swear, you become a shy, blushing girl who's hardly recognizable. I was tempted to do a séance last night after your body was taken over yet again."
"Gahhhhhh, I know. I don't know what is wrong with me."
"Face it, you're smitten," I teased.
"Smitten?" she said, making a face like it was sour word.
"I figured your inner Victorian spirit would relate better to that term," I said, dancing out of the way as she took a swing at me.
"Shut it," she said, laughing with me.
"Hey, at least you know Travis likes you," I said sourly.
"So you say," she said, still not ready to accept it. "Besides, I still think Mason is harboring a secret desire to do the nasty to you," she quipped, racing to the cabin when I swung at her this time.
"As if," I muttered to myself. More like, has the desire to pitch me off a cliff.
Dinner was the usual noisy affair as the campers compared their days and caught up. I was in my customary seat, sandwiched between Rick and Amy, with Travis and Mason sitting directly across the round table from us. Mealtime had become my own personal hell anyway. If I wasn't working to avoid meeting Mason's continuous glare, I had to watch Travis's starry-eyed gazes at Amy, and her blushing shy metamorphosis. I mean, seriously?
"Are you excited about your night off?" Rick asked, buttering a roll before dipping it into his hearty stew.
"Yeah, it should be fun," I said, still not completely convinced.
"They're always a hit," he said, taking a swig of iced tea. "Of course, you guys might get rained out when the cold front moves in tonight," he added.
"Cold front?" I asked. The last few days had warmed up significantly, and for the most part, a hooded sweatshirt was all I needed.
"Yep, looks like Mother Nature wants to give us one more blast of winter before she lets go."
"But it's almost the third week of June," I protested, hating the idea of wearing the heavy parka again.
"Welcome to global warming," he said, laughing at the irony that we were getting the exact opposite of warm. "Don't worry though, if you guys are lucky, maybe it will hold off until your campout is over."
"I hope so," I said half-truthfully. Getting rained out seemed like the perfect excuse. By the excited chatter around our table that night, I could tell my feelings were solitary.
"You don't sound very enthusiastic," Rick stated.
"I was just contemplating the idea of wearing my parka again just when I thought I was going to be able to bury it," I lied.
He laughed. "Yes, I've noticed cold weather doesn't seem to be your thing. You're a California girl through and through," he said.
"Not really," I said, kicking myself. I had made it my goal to fit into Rick's world as much as I could. Bitching about the cold weather wouldn't go a long way in helping my cause.
"Kimmie, there's nothing wrong with preferring a certain state," Rick said quietly.
"I want to fit in, in this state," I said looking down, not liking how vulnerable I felt.
"You're doing amazing," he said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "You've adapted wonderfully to this lifestyle, better than most people thrown into the same circumstance," he added.
I flushed with pride at his words. "Thanks, Rick. It really is an amazing camp, and the kids are great," I said, letting my gaze linger on Lyssa and Quinn who happened to be sitting together at the next table over.
"Yeah, it's hard not to get attached," he said, turning serious as he followed my gaze.
"Everything okay?" I asked, puzzled by the sudden tension radiating off him. I wondered if it was because a boy and girl were sitting next to each other.
He sighed and lowered his voice. "I got a call from Alyssa's court advocate and the loony-ass judge has granted her father temporary custody again, effective immediately," he said grimly.
"What does that mean?" I demanded, not liking the sound of it.
"It means they're coming to get her tomorrow," he said, defeated.
"What?" I screeched, pissed beyond further words.
"Shhhhhh," he said, trying to quiet me down as everyone in the dining hall turned to look at me. "She doesn't know. Louise and I plan on telling her after dinner and we want you and Amy to join us."
Uncharacteristic tears filled my eyes. The judge was a moron. What the hell was he thinking putting her back with her father?
"That sucks ass," I said, not bothering to watch my language in front of him.
"I know," he sighed. "But it's our job to make it as easy on her as we can."
I nodded my head, knowing he was right. "We'll be there," I said.
"Good, I knew I could count on you," he said, squeezing my hand one last time.
I turned my gaze from his and found Mason studying us with interest. For the first time in days, I didn't glare at him. Right now, our apparent animosity toward each other seemed silly. We were insignificant in the whole grand scheme of things.
I pulled my gaze from his when Amy said my name on the other side of me.
"What was Rick saying about Alyssa?" she asked quietly.
"They're sending her back to her dad tomorrow," I whispered back.
"Mother of focking hell, are you kidding me?" she hissed.
"I wish," I said miserably. "Rick wants us to join him and Louise when they tell her."
"Of course, but dang it to hell," she said.
"I know. Hard-Knock Girl strikes again," I added.
The rest of the meal passed quickly as the three of us contemplated the impending unpleasant task ahead of us. When the meal was over, Amy and I headed over to Lyssa.
"Hey girlie, we need to talk with you for a few, okay?" Amy said.
She looked at us apprehensively and I tried to smile at her reassuringly, but it came out more as a grimace. Together we headed to Rick's cluttered office.
Amy and I perched on the small loveseat on the far side of the room with Alyssa sandwiched between us. Rick sat on the corner of his desk while Louise leaned against the wall looking like she wanted to strangle someone.
"Whatever it is, spit it out," Lyssa said in her usual abrasive way that I had come to realize was nothing more than a shield.
Without asking permission, I reached over and grabbed her hand. I expected her to pull it away in her normal sassy way, but she surprised me by gripping it hard in her own hand.
"Judge Lewis has awarded custody back to your father," Rick said, not beating around the bush.