Last Chance Summer - Shannon Klare Page 0,73

These kids weren’t their labels. They deserved a second chance.

18

Let It Out

I left dinner that night, walking the path with my girls.

My conversation with Jess had me focused on getting to know these campers for who they were, not what their attitudes or stupid choices decided they would be.

“You’re telling me Jess managed to do this whole thing by herself?” Brie said, glancing at her wrist.

Despite the occasional mix of colors and flaw in the pattern, I had to give credit where credit was due. Jess left our conversation and finished up the bracelet with zero help from me. It was better than anything I could make. Brie seemed to like it too.

“Why are you acting so shocked?” Jess said, nudging her in the side. “It’s like you don’t know how insanely awesome I am at pretty much everything.”

“Okay, but you’re the furthest thing from a crafter I’ve ever seen,” Brie said. “Didn’t you say you’d rather die a million deaths than do another thing of sand art? I could be trippin’ but I’m pretty sure that was you.”

“This isn’t sand art,” Jess said. “It’s bracelet making, and I’m a boss at it.”

We stepped onto cabin two’s porch, still talking as the guys from Grant’s side lingered outside their door. Curfew would be later on in the night, after another whole-group amphitheater hangout. If I was lucky, it wouldn’t last long. I hadn’t seen Grant all day, and being forced to be in the same place was the last thing on my want-to-do list.

“How long we got to get ready?” Brie said, pausing outside the door. “Enough time to curl my hair and do my makeup, or do I have to pick one?”

“We’re supposed to be there right after dark, so you’ve got forty-five minutes. Whatever you squeeze into that time frame is up to you,” I said.

“Makeup it is,” she said.

I grinned and shook my head as she crossed the threshold, then scanned the outside of the cabin for any indication of Grant. He deserved better than me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t miss him. I could’ve used him today, when the world seemed to be against me, and I was once again on my own. But I could move on. I had to.

I crossed the porch and stepped into my side of cabin two, beelining for my bed, where my sketchbook lay on the plastic bin beside it.

“You sketching again?” Jess said, sitting on her bed.

“I started working on something about a week ago. I haven’t had much time to finish it,” I said, shrugging. “Since I had to leave that canvas in arts and crafts, it’s the best I can do.”

I flipped through the pages, bypassing the torn and tattered ones from my earlier counselor days. Those aggressively scribbled pages were a reminder of how bad things could get, when I kept my walls up and refused to let anyone in.

“Question,” Brie said, pulling my attention from the sketchbook. “What are our plans for the Fourth of July? I know we’ve got a little under a week, but I like to pre-plan my outfits. I need to save the cutest one for that day.”

“You act like it’s a huge event,” Jess said.

“Not as big as the camper talent show, but close.” Brie looked at me again, brow arched. “Plans? You got ’em?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Loraine hasn’t finished the schedule yet. I won’t get it until the first.”

“So you have zero intel.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure I saw in the counselor cabin that we’re doing something at the lake. Fireworks, maybe? I don’t know.” I grabbed a pencil from the bin beside my bed, mulling over where to go with the picture.

After trying for another thirty minutes to make something out of the mess of lines, I sighed and closed the book. Through the window on my right, the sun had disappeared beneath the trees. Dusk was here. Regardless of what I wanted, seeing Grant was imminent.

I slumped off the bed, letting out a long sigh as I faced my girls. My stomach was already spinning with anxiety, flip-flopping over things I couldn’t change.

“We’ve got about five minutes before we probably need to head out,” I said. “If you aren’t done getting changed, doing your makeup, whatever, get it done or I’m leaving without you.”

“I feel like that’s directed at me,” Brie said, staring at me from her spot on her bed.

That was a fair guess. Makeup palettes, foundation, and a handful of beauty products