swing, slinging his arm around the back of it while I took a seat. In the dark, the features of his face were softer. Either he was tired, or he had lost some of the edge he’d worn earlier in the day.
I settled in beside him, relaxing against the swing while his long legs rocked it back and forth. Night had grasshoppers chirping on the path below. I listened to them for a minute, keeping my eyes more focused on the porch than on Grant.
“I think the biggest part of doing this job lies in being able to walk a very thin line between being their friend and being the authority figure,” he said after a minute. “If you drift too far to one side, they see you as an equal. If you stay too far removed, they can’t relate to you. It’s hard to balance, even as someone who’s lived both sides.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, staring at me. He rocked the swing back and forth, eyeing me quietly. “Step one is to focus on the very real campers who will be walking this porch in the very near future. Worry about them. Worry less about me.”
“Fine,” I said, scrunching my nose. “What’s your best advice on counseling these kids? Bribery? Empathy?”
“Empathy first,” he said, chuckling. “Take an interest in who they are and what they’re here to get, but when all else fails bribery is a solid second choice.”
“Sounds easy enough,” I said.
“It is easy, as long as you’re receptive,” he said. “Don’t judge them. Don’t think you know them. Listen. Learn. Adjust. Remember, you set the temperature of your cabin. You want them to warm to you. Don’t distance yourself from them.”
“Except I distance myself from everyone,” I said.
“Out of habit?” he said.
“Out of necessity,” I answered.
I swallowed, pushing images of Nikki from my mind. Distance was the easiest form of protection. Letting people in left room to get hurt. I learned my lesson with Mitch, then Nikki. Keeping things shallow, superficial, was my best option. Always would be.
“Letting myself get attached to these kids is definitely going to be the hardest part,” I said, staring at him. “If I can’t, what’s another option for making this work?”
“There isn’t one.”
“Great. Might as well pack my bags,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Take it from someone who spent the greater part of his childhood putting up walls. If I can let these kids in, so can you,” he said. “You’ll realize the lessons they have to teach you are way more important than protecting yourself from whatever you’re trying to keep out.”
“Wow. You actually sound like you know what you’re talking about,” I said, nudging him.
“I told you. I’m the best counselor out here,” he said. “The more you listen, the more you’ll learn.”
“You’re also incredibly humble,” I said, grinning.
“The most humble of them all.” After a moment, he stood, offering me his hand. “Just know things are never as hard as you think they are, but if you ever start having legit issues with your campers I’m just next door. Get me anytime.”
“Who are you and what did you do with the sarcastic, intolerable version of you?” I said, taking his hand.
“There are more sides to me than that one. I just happen to like that one the best.”
I straightened to full height, surveying him in the stillness of the night. Truth be told, I did too.
“Good night, Grant,” I said, peeling myself out of my place in front of him.
“Good night,” he said, moving toward his door.
I closed the door to my side of cabin two quietly, drinking in the hum of the window unit and the wisdom in Grant’s words. If getting attached meant surviving the summer, I guess I really didn’t have a choice.
* * *
“There’s always another choice,” I said, glancing at the strangers filling my side of cabin two.
What was once a clean and organized side of cabin two was now an explosion of plastic tubs, multicolored blankets, and too many duffel bags to count.
Another camper pushed her way through the screen door, carrying two more duffels and another blanket. She tossed the blanket haphazardly on one of the two remaining beds, then dropped her duffels on the floor and stared at the girls beside her.
Short, with dirty-blond hair down to her lower back, perfectly contoured foundation, a trendy graphic T-shirt, and blue-jean cutoffs, she was me version 2.0. The version before life hit me with a sledgehammer.
Outside, the