The Fantastic Eight and Their February Surprise - 1. Beneath The Surface

Altair Bran already wanted to chuck the stack of clipboards in his hands into the lake of the Mystic Camp Grounds. Adjusting his crisp new staff shirt, he clutched the whistle hanging from a cord around his neck and ran his free hand through his blond hair as he surveyed the bustling arrival of campers. Their coach had volunteered half the basketball team to serve as youth coaches, and Altair had only gone along for one reason: college applications.

His grades and athletic achievements weren’t nearly good enough to give him an edge, so he hoped this summer stint would help him get into at least the local community college. If wrangling a bunch of kids with Cane at his side was what it took, so be it.

Speaking of the devil, Altair watched Cane’s messy red bedhead bob through the crowd of new arrivals at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, all easy charm and big, warm laughs. The mere sight made Altair want to gag and punch something at the same time. Cane made everything look so damn easy, and it drove Altair up the wall; though he’d never admit that to himself, let alone anyone else.

Especially not to Cane.

“Wilson! Better Bran!” Cane called out, and Altair glanced over to see his brother approaching.

Lee and Raven walked in hand in hand, their dynamic so natural that Altair’s stomach twisted with envy and admiration. Raven nodded in greeting, but Altair made a show of ignoring them both. No way he’d ever let them see the relief he felt at their arrival.

“Ready for the chaos, or are you two gonna kill each other before lunch?” Lee joked, though his gaze flicking between Altair and Cane suggested he wasn’t entirely kidding.

Altair forced a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “As long as Cane keeps his circus act out of the mess hall, we should survive.”

“You mean as long as you don’t go full drill sergeant on day one,” Cane rebutted with a grin, bumping Altair’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll save the fire-juggling and fire walking for tonight.”

For a split second, Altair almost smiled for real, but he caught himself before anyone could see. He handed a clipboard to each of them. “We’ll be cat-herding four campers each,” he explained, sighing as he saw the listed ages and kept the older group for himself. “Gotta love how the campground manager dumped these teens on us.”

“Aww, mine are 13 year old kiddos,” Lee commented.

“Mine are 14,” Raven said.

“I just turned 19. I can handle 15-year-olds, no prob,” Cane added, craning his neck to peek at Altair’s clipboard. “Whoa, 16? Don’t know if those guys will respect someone who’s only three years older.”

“Worry about your own campers, Cane,” Altair scoffed.

“Suit yourself.”

The mischievous glint in Cane’s aqua eyes made Altair’s stomach quiver, though he hoped it didn’t show. Lee’s eyes were bright like the sky, but Cane’s reminded Altair of tropical waters—shifting color in different lighting, like ebbing waves. Altair was desperate to keep himself from drowning in them.

“I’m gonna go find my brats,” Altair announced, heading toward the knot of campers at the entrance. Their excited chatter was endless, so he didn’t hesitate to blow his whistle to silence them. “Campers! I’m coach Altair Bran. If you hear your name, you’re coming with me,” he called out. “Demon and Angel Newboy! Erik White! Wi- What kind of spelling of Winter is this with two N's? Winnter Black! ”

“Call me Demi!” Demon greeted as soon as he rushed over and motioned towards his brother. “And this is my bro, Angel, though I like to call him Ace.”

Altair had to force himself not to roll his eyes, his patience already waning as he spotted his two other campers struggling with oversized duffel bags on their way over.

“I’m Erik White!” the dark-skinned teen said.

The fourth camper struggled too much tying his long, black hair back to bother giving his name.

Altair wondered how the pale youth didn’t melt on the spot, wearing so much black.

“Right,” Altair drawled. “I’ll take you to your cabin. If you don’t pay attention to the path and get lost, it’s not my problem.”

Angel couldn’t help the snort of amusement that escaped him. Out of all the youth coaches Demon and Angel had over the years, he already liked Altair best. He seemed to lack as much enthusiasm as Angel himself did.

The path to their assigned cabin was easy enough for the twins to memorize, since this wasn’t their first rodeo. But the childhood friends Erik and Win were looking around at every shrub and stone on the path as if that would help them remember the way.

Angel smirked and handed them both a map pamphlet. “Demi and I practically live in these woods by now,” he whispered. “We’ll make sure you won’t get lost.”

“Thanks,” Erik responded with a grin that lit up his features.

For a moment, Angel just stared at the expression on the taller camper’s face. Erik’s green eyes and white hair contrasted with his dark skin. The squared glasses on his face did nothing to mask his good looks.

“A-Anytime.”

“And we’re here,” Altair announced loudly. “Every wall posts the rules, but the gist is: you break it, your parents buy it. If you don’t want to be grounded for life, you’ll be wary not to cause any damage whatsoever.”

“Are the beds assigned?” Angel asked.

“You can either play rock, paper, scissors for them or wrestle each other to death. That’s all on you,” Altair responded. “Lunch happens at 12pm sharp. Go get settled in.”

The younger teens watched Altair leave before walking inside.

“Anyone mind if I take the bed closest to the bathroom?” Win asked. “I’m not entirely sure if the food provided will be at peace with my intestines.”

Demon laughed aloud. “I think that can be arranged, right Ace?” Angel nodded. “That leaves the other three. Should we flip a coin for each?”

“That works,” Erik agreed.

After a few coin flips, Demon ended up in the upper left bunk with Win on the bed underneath. Erik was on the upper right bunk with Angel underneath. The Newboy twins helped the other two decode the map pamphlets and warned them about some of the rough paths.

“I love hiking, so the rough paths won’t be a problem for me,” Erik said.

“I prefer flat, shaded paths,” Win chimed in. “The shadier the better.”

Demon couldn’t help but laugh again. “Dude, that sounds so wrong out of context. ‘The shadier the better.’”

Win shrugged in agreement. “You’re not wrong.”

Something about the goth guy made Demon feel at ease. A strange, familiar feeling. “So, do you guys know each other?”

Erik broke out in another grin that caused all kinds of butterflies to break out in Angel’s stomach.

“We’re childhood friends and neighbors,” Erik said. “Practically grew up like siblings in the same community despite our families being so...different.” His expression changed when he mentioned their families, but he offered no further explanation.

“Different ‘bad’ different?” Angel found himself prompting.

Erik shook his head. “More like different cultures and traditions. Nothing I’d consider ‘bad.’”

“Speak for yourself,” Win said with a wide yawn. “Mine’s fucking nocturnal, and yet they shipped me out to camp at the crack of dawn. That sounds plenty ‘bad’ to me.”

Demon broke out into laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him laugh so hard. “Oh man, you’re hilarious.”

Win sent him a sheepish smile. “If you think that’s funny, Erik over there can spin some wild tales that’ll have you laughing for days.”

“Oh?” Angel asked.

“Yeah,” Win insisted, his smile turning sly. “You should tell them about the one with the flying otter and the vampire-penguin.”

Angel tensed briefly at the word ‘vampire’ before he tried to play it off. “I’ve never heard of a vampire-penguin before.”

“I’ve always had a bigger imagination than most kids my age,” Erik admitted.

“Was the vampire-penguin a ‘bad guy’ in your story?” Angel asked.

“Nah,” Win interceded. “The penguin, the otter, and the unicorn became besties by the end, if I remember correctly.”

“Very much so,” Erik affirmed with a nod.

The tension that spiked up in Angel softened as his purple eyes locked with Erik’s green ones. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to latch on to the idea that Erik didn’t consider vampires to be ‘bad guys.’ At least, not in his stories. And, if Erik didn’t mind vampires in lore, then maybe he wouldn’t mind becoming friends with a mixed vampire in real life. Angel really hoped that was the case beneath the surface.