Camp Lore - 20. Chapter 20

So even though we had it set up, and I figured we could pretty well walk unnoticed to the girls’ camp some evening after Rec, with the excuse that Andy needed to show me something for the next day, we didn’t make it that far. Saturday night, walking back to the bunks after the Canteen closed, Andy and I continued to the waterfront. We were talking about something, and the lake was just a few bunks from his kids. I was leaning on the slide to the Beginner’s Cove, and he was standing nearby, when my hand accidently brushed his arm.

“That wasn’t intentional?” he asked.

“What?”

“No. I guess not.”

I knew he was looking at me, but I couldn’t clearly see his face.

“But this is.”

And he dropped his hand on my shoulder.

“Not here,” I said.

“Of course not. The whole camp could see.”

I walked to the open dock.

“Well, the boys could,” he said, following.

“That would be an education.”

“And our ticket out of here.”

“You don’t want to go.”

“Not before seeing you without your trunks.”

“You could do that right now. If we dove in the water.”

“Without ruining our clothes.”

“They could be folded.”

“Your... er... profile might ruin the smoothness of your dive.”

“That was rude. And guessing.”

“Not exactly.”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t dive so smoothly right now, either.”

“And I’ve never seen you in your shorts.”

“Just without my shirt.”

“Want to swim?” I offered. “We’re allowed.”

“We’d get distracted and drown. Which’d wreck our futures.”

“You think we have one?”

“I think – if we don’t stop talking – I’m gonna make a mess that’ll send me to the shower. And we don’t like to run the water late in our bunk ‘cause it wakes the kids.”

“Where?” I asked instead.

He pointed to the woods. They bordered both sides of the waterfront, and we went to the closest.

“You think this is safe?” I asked.

“It’s a quarter mile to the parents’ cabins.”

“And your bench?”

“Not going there.”

“Why?”

“Too ordinary.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

“Isn’t there poison ivy?”

“Who told you that?”

“I don’t know... Someone.”

“Nate?”

“Let’s keep him out of this.”

“Linden?”

“Maybe it’s a rumor.”

“Maybe it’s something he planted.”

We both laughed.

“One of us can lean against a tree,” he suggested.

“Fine.”

Though he went first – because we were already kissing. And when he stepped back, he found his way blocked.

“Tree,” he muttered.

I glanced begin him.

“Tree,” I confirmed – and took the moment to slip my glasses into my pocket.

“They won’t get lost?” he asked, possibly mocking me from the Canteen.

I was busy.

“Or broken?” he went on.

“I have spares.”

He pulled his face away from mine and was staring.

“Why’re you worried about my glasses?” I asked.

“It gives me a chance to think. And look in your eyes.”

“Can you really see? You’re just a blur.”

“My eyes’re better.”

“I don’t need to see.”

I was opening his belt.

“Now what ya gonna do down there?” he joked.

“Camp physical. Mandatory three-week check.”

“You’re cute when you babble.”

“Babble and grovel.”

And I dropped to my knees before he did.

He brought me back up.

“What about equals?” he asked.

“I thought you weren’t interested.”

“I’ve very interested – just have a different image in mind.”

I laughed.

“One of us would have to hang upside down,” I said.

“Monkey boys.”

“From that tree.”

“Since it’s handy.”

“And since we can’t touch the ground.”

“You were about to.”

“Not really.”

“Yes.”

“My knees have my jeans around them.”

“Not in my imagination.”

At that point, we both had our jeans around our knees.

“Andy...”

“What?”

“If you touch me once more...”

“Yeah?”

“You know...”

He laughed.

“Too late,” he said.

“Not quite.”

“For me.”

I laughed.

“You didn’t?”

“Uh-huh.”

“When?”

“While we were talking,”

“Talking?”

“While I was trying to stall.”

I reached toward his knees.

“You really did – you louse.”

“I’m not sorry. Now stay still for a second.”

“Gonna take longer than that.”

It didn’t

“Ohhh – mannnn.”

I didn’t say that.

Not aloud.

Just felt it.

All through.

He held on to me.

“See... I’m gonna have to teach you to talk while you’re doing that... Be civil... More social... You’re a little self-centered.”

When I finally stopped blowing air out my mouth, I mumbled something stupid like “Practice away.”

And he did.