Southern Storms (Compass #1) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,26

I couldn’t have cared less about what people thought of me, especially my dad, but for some reason, I cared what he thought about me more than anyone else in the world.

As Miss Jessie walked Kennedy back to her cabin, the weird girl danced the whole way there.

For the most part, I hated camp. I hated the sports, and the games, and the group activities. I hated being away from home—well, kind of. I missed Mom because I figured she missed me, too. I didn’t miss Dad because it seemed as if I was never good enough for him even though I tried my hardest. Dad loved my older brother, Derek, a lot more than he loved me. Derek wasn’t even his biological son, but still, he got Dad’s love the most. They liked all the same kind of stuff—football, hunting, action movies. I wasn’t a good son like Derek, and Dad made me feel bad about it all the time, too.

He sent me to camp hoping I’d get better at certain things and man up. Mom sent me to camp in hopes I’d make friends.

I wasn’t good at manning up or making friends, even though that was all I’d ever wanted.

People called me weird—kind of like how I called Kennedy weird, I supposed, but I didn’t dance in the rain and build castles out of mud. I was actually the complete opposite of Kennedy Lost. She was loud, and I was reserved. She dressed in all the colors of the rainbow while my clothes were black, white, or gray. She always yapped on and on about made-up stories while I stayed mute. She even wore her curly hair wild with the tips dyed purple while mine stayed brown, tamed, and in place.

It was odd how two weird people could be complete opposites.

“Let me go!” I shouted as my camp bunkmates dragged me out of the room in the middle of the night. James, Ryan, and the leader of their pack, Lars freaking Parker, wouldn’t let me go. Lars was from my hometown, and he bullied me during the whole school year. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he kept bullying me at camp.

It was pouring rain, and the three guys were pissed at me for making them lose at flag football earlier that day. I hadn’t even wanted to play, and my team hadn’t wanted me to either, but the camp had a stupid ‘nobody left behind’ rule that made me a bully’s prime target.

My dad would’ve liked them all because they were good at that guy stuff.

“Shut up, cry baby!” Lars hollered, wrapping his hands around my wrists as Ryan and James each grabbed one of my ankles.

I hadn’t even wanted to play flag football. I hadn’t even wanted to go to summer camp!

I hated it! I hated it so much I could have cried.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” I shouted.

“Oh, we’ll let you go—right after we throw you into the trash bin like the garbage you are,” Lars said. It was clear he was the ringleader of the circus of jerks. Ryan and James pretty much did anything he said. I wondered how people got powerful like that, how they could just get anyone to follow anything they said.

“You’re not throwing anyone anywhere,” a voice said. I looked over my shoulder to see Kennedy standing there in the pouring rain with a bow and arrow in her grip. She held the arrow pointed straight at Lars’s face and ohmygosh weird Kennedy Lost was a freaking psychopath. “Drop Jax and no one gets hurt.”

“Oh look, Jax’s freaky girlfriend came to save the day!” Ryan mocked.

“Oh look, Ryan is so basic he couldn’t think of a better comment to make. Really, Ryan, work on your insults. They lack authenticity, much like your whole persona—or should I call you Lars number two?” Kennedy mocked them right back before I could express that she wasn’t my girlfriend.

That was another difference between her and me—she wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself.

“Will you just go away, Kennedy? This has nothing to do with you,” James said.

“Sorry, Lars number three, I can’t let you do this. Just put him down, and no one will get hurt.” She shot an arrow that landed right between James’ feet.

“Are you insane?” he barked, jumping in the air and dropping my foot to the ground.

Kennedy didn’t reply. She simply reached into the backpack she was wearing, pulled out another arrow, and shot it

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