Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I’m sure it will.” Derrick threw an arm around me, easy as if we did that all the time, easy like the tension in our cabin never happened, easy like he truly was that supportive. If only.
“Aw. You’re so cute together.” My mom arrived at our table, wearing a visor from our last reunion and toting her clipboard and a pen.
“Thanks.” I forced a smile. We were cute. I might as well try to enjoy it. “You’ve got a clipboard. Should I be worried?”
Mom didn’t laugh at my tease. “Did you check your messages?”
“Uh...”
“I’m betting they had better things to do before dinner.” Aunt Sandy laughed a little too loud.
“Indeed.” Mom had the grace to blush. And honestly, I wished they were right. Making out would have been a far better use of our time than debating who was going to sleep in the tub. Mom dragged a chair over next to me. “I had an idea for awards night on the last night of camp.”
“Yeah.” My face scrunched up. I wasn’t a fan of the annual awards, which celebrated both recent accomplishments outside of camp like promotions, but also silly stuff like fastest canoe time, best hiker, and other awards I’d been destined to never win as a kid.
“I want to add a talent show for the children. With prizes, and I brought some cheap trophies.”
I couldn’t hold back my groan. “Of course it would have to be a competition.”
“Well, prizes make it fun.” She beamed, clearly in love with her big brainstorm. “And you could get them to do some sort of group musical number too. Something cute.”
“But with a winner. Everything needs a winner.” I tried to hide my bitterness behind a tease, but judging by Derrick’s frown I hadn’t entirely succeeded.
“Winning is—” My mom continued earnestly before her eyes narrowed. “Wait. You’re joking.”
“Yup. Sarcasm, Mom. But I’ll do it.” If I didn’t, someone else would, someone who shared the family obsession with crowning winners. Better to go along with the idea, try to subvert it from the inside, and if I was lucky, rehearsals might keep me from horrors like volleyball and horseshoes.
“You will?” Sitting up straighter, she tilted her head like she’d expected a lot more resistance from me.
“If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s picking songs and scripting award shows.” I made my voice all cheerful. It wouldn’t do to let on that I had my own agenda behind agreeing. “All that RA experience should be good for something.”
“Excellent.” She reached between Sandy and me to squeeze my shoulder.
“I can help,” Derrick volunteered, clearly making a bid for more good-boyfriend bonus points. At this rate, no one I brought around in future years would ever measure up. As it was, finding something to top that kiss was going to be a challenge and a half. I should have thought this through more.
I nodded, though, because that was what a besotted boyfriend would do. “Thanks.”
“Even better.” Mom beamed at both of us before standing. “Now, I better catch Maureen before we transition to the fire circle.”
“I’ll help with rounding people up,” Aunt Sandy said as she too left the table.
“You don’t actually have to help,” I whispered to Derrick after they were both gone.
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged, expression hard to decipher. Probably he was simply doing what we’d talked about in the car, practicing being an attentive partner. Which meant I should probably release him from the obligation, but before I could, Calder came around the table to stand at Derrick’s other side.
“Hey, man, come grab a beer with us before the campfire.” Calder knew perfectly well that I wasn’t a drinker and that I’d rather be roasted like a marshmallow than hear more military talk, so it wasn’t surprising when he didn’t even glance at me. Derrick did, however, darting his eyes toward me as his mouth quirked.
“Is—”
“Go ahead.” I made a dismissive gesture. He’d racked up enough good-boyfriend karma for one evening. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with some sort of sign-up sheet for the show, see which kids are interested. You go enjoy your drink.”
I didn’t see Derrick again for about an hour as I found some paper and a pen in the resort office and set about talking to different families, signing up eager kids and persuading those more reluctant or shy to give it a try. Meanwhile, snippets of songs kept parading through my head, possibilities for a musical number that might have meaning beyond another opportunity to crown a winner.
At the fire circle, which was located in a clearing between some of the larger buildings, Calder’s crew was already there, Derrick included, beer in hand. Shoulders loose and relaxed, he looked content. No sense in me dragging him away from his friends, so instead I assisted in handing out the ingredients for s’mores and settled for catching glimpses of him in the flickering firelight.