Stealing Third

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Stealing Third Page 11

by Marta Brown


  Still covered with the remnants of this morning’s shenanigans, I pull my hair into a messy top knot and quickly change my shirt while Jenny finishes showering and redoes her hair, despite the fact she barely had a drop of sticky syrup or a splash of orange juice anywhere near her.

  I shake my head. What’s the point of getting clean when were about to get soaked at the boat races and then muddy playing tug of war? That is, if we make it down to the lake in time.

  “Hey, are you ready yet?” I call into the bathroom, tapping my foot against the wood floor, the sound echoing through the empty cabin.

  Jenny strides out of the bathroom, dressed like she’s about to sail Nantucket Bay instead of paddling a canoe across the lake, and tosses her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder.

  “Watermelon or Cherry?”

  “What?”

  Crinkling her nose, she holds up two tubes of chapstick and repeats her question again, this time dragging out every syllable like I’m an idiot. “Watermelon or Cherry?”

  I toss my hands in the air. “Does it really matter?” I ask, not even attempting to hide my annoyance. I’m actually surprised I’ve lasted this long considering how many hours I was stuck in the cafeteria watching as she threw herself, and her boobs, in Tyler’s face.

  She smiles, ignoring my frustration. “You’re right. Boys like anything that tastes like food, so I can’t go wrong either way.” Jenny slathers on the bright red one and then grabs a chubby eye shadow pencil from her makeup bag and tosses it in my direction. “Here.”

  “What’s this for?” I turn it around in my hand and read it’s name. Milk.

  “Go Team White, right?” she says, taking the pencil from me and uncapping it before writing ‘Team’ on one side of her cheek and ‘White’ on the other.

  I let out a surprised laugh. Despite my annoyance at her for flirting so shamelessly with Tyler all morning, her sudden enthusiasm for the color war—a side I’ve never seen of her—is contagious.

  Taking the jumbo eye pencil from her, I drag a wide white stripe onto the tops of my cheeks, like the black grease baseball players wear to help reduce glare, and frankly, look totally bad ass.

  I glance in the mirror, looking pretty bad ass, too.

  “Let’s go kick some color war butt!”

  …

  When we reach the edge of the lake, the relay race has already begun, but there are still a half dozen pairs left to go, so we slip into the back of the line.

  Like a mosquito being drawn to the glow of a bug light, I find Tyler easily, as he stands on the shoreline with the guys from his cabin cheering on their team.

  Wearing an easy smile and a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a fitted white tee-shirt that’s soaking wet—revealing his washboard abs and cut shoulders—and a red bandana tied around his wrist, I feel a jolt of electricity run through my body. Just like that bug.

  “Omg. Look. At. Those. Abs,” Jenny says, sending another jolt through my body, but this time it’s jealousy that sears.

  I clench my fists, and dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand to stop from telling her those abs are mine and to stop checking them out. Except, I get it. It’s hard not to look because he’s so freaking hot.

  The dock vibrates as our team’s canoe rams against it, jostling us both back into the present. It’s our turn.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” I say, hopping into the boat behind Jenny, careful not to tip it as the other two girls from our cabin climb out.

  Taking off, we row to the end of the lake in perfect unison, thanks to Jenny. Utilizing her skills as the coxswain for the crew team, she calls out our strokes as we go, our shared power and rhythm allowing us to take the lead on our way back, leaving the red team in our wake.

  At the edge of the water, a crowd of colors—white, red, blue, green, yellow, and orange—speckle the landscape as Jenny and I fly past the dock and into the shallow end of the lake. When we hit the sandy bank the crowd erupts, sending the white team rushing into the water, splashing and cheering our victory.

  “Congratulations on your win, ladies,” Tyler says, giving me a smile that’s better than any win I could imagine. He helps drag our canoe onto the shoreline after the crowd has moved on to the next competition. “Not sure you’ll be so lucky at the tug of war, though. We have a secret weapon, you know.”

  His teasing smile makes my heart skip a beat, but it’s the wink he gives me that makes it speed up like a fastball with some heat behind it.

  “Is that right?” I arch an eyebrow.

  “Hell, yeah, that’s right,” Todd says, walking up from behind me and flexing his muscles like he’s in a body building competition. He drops an arm over Jenny and I’s shoulders. “It’s me.”

  “I actually meant me, doofus—I’m kind of a pro since Coach makes us do tug of wars for strength training exercises every day.” Tyler kicks up a splash of water at Todd. “And get away from the competition.”

  I press my lips together to keep from breaking out into a full on grin at the way Tyler eyes Todd’s arm until he takes it off of me.

  “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see about that,” Jenny says, giving the guys a flirty smile before looping her arm in mine and sashaying us away. “And I bet that’s not the only thing he’s a pro at,” she whispers so loudly I’m positive it was meant for Tyler’s ears and not mine. But she’s right, which puts an extra sashay into my own hips.

  …

  Tyler wasn’t kidding. He is kind of a pro.

  Defeated, I watch him, Todd, and the rest of the red team celebrate their tug of war win, marveling not only at their total domination, but also at the fact their clothes are somehow still clean. I’m completely covered in mud.

  “All right, campers,” Walter shouts into a megaphone, “Lunch is à la carte today, so you can head to the cafeteria, which is now clean.” His tone takes on a disapproving note—just in case we were unsure about his feelings on the food fight earlier. “After that, there will be free time until the camp wide color war campfire tonight, where we will be serving hotdogs, hamburgers, chips and s’mores.”

  Yum, s’mores.

  A ghost of a touch on my hand sends goose bumps across my skin. “I’m not sure if you look cuter covered in whipped cream or mud,” Tyler says quietly, leaning over my shoulder.

  I whip around, grinning. “That’s funny, I was just wondering the same thing about you.” I laugh, taking a step closer to him, my muddy hands ready to ruin his perfectly clean shirt.

  “How about you meet me behind my cabin in a few minutes and we can find out,” he murmurs before turning around, shoving his hands in his pockets, and walking away like it’s no big deal.

  I watch him retreat, my eyes as wide as my smile. I’m surprised by his bold proposition considering were not under the cover of darkness like last night, or even earlier today. But I like this side of him. Apparently when Tyler commits to something, he goes all out.

  “Hey, Em,” Lucy shouts right before tackling me with a bear hug, her orange tee-shirt and white knee high socks completely covered in mud as well. “Tied for first with the red team, good job!” The enthusiasm in her voice and her honest excitement for my victory is exactly why she’s going to make a great elementary teacher one day.

  “You guys did great, too. Technically you’re in second place.”

  “Not for long.” She smiles rubbing her hands together. “It’ll be a three way tie before the end of the night. We have the hotdog eating comp in the bag.”

  I laugh. “You know it’s totally gross your boyfriend can eat so many hotdogs in one minute, right?”

  “Oh, you’re just jealous he’s on Team Orange this year.”

  I nod because she’s totally right. He’s a machine. “Well, I guess we’ll have to wait and see how the rest of the week shakes out. You know the egg toss and dodgeball are my specialties,” I say, mimicking tossing a ball, or an egg in this case, and causing a chunk of dried mud to fall off my arm with a plunk.


  “Ew. It looks like you need to go get cleaned up worse than me.” Lucy wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes tight before skipping off towards the dining hall. “I’ll see ya later tonight, okay?” she calls back, waving.

  I smile and wave back until she’s out of sight before heading down the trail to Tyler’s cabin. It’s quiet, since most of the guys are either eating lunch or already down at the lake ogling girls, but I steal a glance over my shoulder just in case, before dashing off the dirt path and into the woods behind Tyler’s cabin.

  Leaning up against a tree, Tyler jumps when he hears me. “Took you long enough,” he says, reaching out and wrapping his hands around my hips to draw me into him, unfazed by my muddy appearance.

  He drops a soft, sweet kiss on my lips as I rest my chin on his chest, my arms around his waist. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself,” he says back, brushing his nose against mine before kissing me again, this time long and deep.

  A loud, rambunctious laugh from the other side of the cabin breaks through the quiet and makes us still. Listening to the laughter come closer and closer, Tyler grabs my hand and pulls us out of the woods and into the hidden space by the back door of his cabin as two guys, dressed in all blue, emerge from behind the cabin next to Tyler’s and start to toss boxers onto the tree limbs.

  “What are they doing?” Tyler asks under his breath, making sure the guys don’t hear us.

  “Color war pranks,” I say like it should be obvious.

  “Oh, is that so, Camp Champ know it all?” Tyler grips my sides and starts to tickle my waist.

  Doubled over and trying not to make a sound I press back, away from his reach, and end up falling through the back door of his cabin and onto the ground as he continues his pursuit until I can’t help but laugh out loud.

  “Wait, did you hear that?” Tyler stops, his hands hovering just above my belly. I clamp my hand over my mouth to stop the lingering giggles as the sound of footsteps echo against the front porch.

  “Oh, shit,” Tyler breathes as the front door starts to creak open, panic surging through the both of us at the likelihood of being caught.

  “What are we going to do?”

  Tyler grabs my hand and helps me to my feet, his eyes shooting between the front door and the back door like a trapped cat. “Here,” he says, yanking me into the bathroom.

  I glance around the tiny room. “What now?”

  He whips back the thick plastic shower curtain, pulls me in, and slides it shut before the sudden spray of water drowns out my pounding heart.

  Chapter 20

  Tyler

  Pressed against the plastic wall of the tiny shower stall while someone rummages around in the main cabin is not exactly the way I imagined having Emily in my shower for the first time. But I’ll take it.

  Trying to calm my heart, I pull in a deep breath and glance down at Emily. Her body—flattened tight against mine as a steady stream of water pours over us—doesn’t help the cause. My heart doubles in speed.

  “I think we’re good,” I mouth when the noise finally stops, and the front door to the cabin slams shut.

  Relieved we didn’t get caught, I sag against the wall and let rivulets of warm water run over my tense shoulders as I mentally berate myself for being so careless.

  What was I thinking? Oh yeah, I haven’t been. At least not logically ever since meeting Emily. And right now is no exception.

  Leaning down until my mouth is at her ear, I tighten my arms around her waist and pull her so close my excitement is obvious. “I want you so bad right now,” I breathe, stealing Emily’s words from the dock and wondering if she’ll remember, because I can’t forget.

  She tips her head back and lets out a breath I think she’s been holding ever since I yanked her in here with me, and gives me a mischievous little smile.

  “You know what I want?” Her whispered voice is low and breathy and makes me want her even more by the second.

  I brush my lips against hers. “Anything.”

  “To get dry,” she says matter-of-factly, “and for you to not get in trouble.” Smiling, she lifts up on her toes, kisses my shocked face, and then slips out of the shower, leaving me stunned.

  “Oh, and, Tyler,” she says, popping her head back in, as droplets of water drip down the sides of her face. “That was for teasing me on the dock—but this,” she yanks the hot water dial all the way to the coldest setting and giggles, “is for throwing me into the cold lake.”

  My jaw drops, along with my body’s core temperature as the freezing cold water douses me. Yep. She remembers.

  Shaking my head back and forth, I laugh. Man, that girl is crazy. And I’m crazy about her.

  …

  After nearly a week of color war competitions—which has kept me from spending any real time with Emily, besides a few stolen glances, and even fewer stolen kisses since she left me to take a much needed cold shower—I’m anxious to finish up in the clinic with Doc and see her.

  “Good work today, Tyler.” Doc scribbles on a stack of papers attached to his clipboard before setting them down on the counter next to the glass jar of tongue depressors I just finished restocking.

  “Thank you, sir. I, uh, mean, Doc,” I correct after earning myself a look.

  “That’s more like it.” He smiles before gesturing to the window with the hairline fracture running down the middle of it. The remnants of the rogue egg hitting it less than an hour ago splattered across the glass. “I’m sure you would have had more fun out there today, as opposed to treating another case of poison oak.”

  I glance into the room across the hall where the three middle school boys covered in globs of pink calamine lotion are still denying it was a dare gone wrong. “No, I appreciate this opportunity so much; I’m just happy to help out any way I can.”

  “Well, I appreciate having you here.” Doc smiles. “Now go on and have some fun,” he says, waving me away before strolling out of the room and into the next. “All right, boys, anyone ready to confess yet?”

  I laugh, leaving Doc to it, as I fly down the stairs and out the front doors of the office.

  The rank smell of eggs, warming in the early afternoon sun, hits me harder than Emily’s curve ball did during our pickup game, making me relieved I missed getting covered in yolk. Despite the fact I would have totally crushed it at the egg toss.

  As I make my way towards the red team, through the crowd of campers fastening on their capture-the-flag belts and gearing up for the final color war competition, I can’t help but scan the packed field for Emily.

  “You made it!” Andy says, tossing me a belt; his unnaturally natural red hair is the only thing he needs to show his team spirit. I—on the other hand—decided to rock a red plaid button up, a plain white tee, and my favorite red Chucks.

  I fasten the belt around my waist and position it so the red vinyl flag sits closer to my hip than my butt, so I can better defend against sneak attacks.

  A sudden wash of bright white in my peripheral vision diverts my attention away from everything except Emily in a pair of jean shorts, a tight white v-neck tied up on the side so her belly button ring is showing, and a pair of white tennis shoes. Damn.

  Resting her hands on her hips, she juts out one of her long, tan legs. “Ready to go down, Team Red?”

  “You’re the…going…um…” Andy stutters, sounding the way I must look—like my jaw is detached and hanging loose.

  Trying to stop him from ogling, I swing the back of my hand into his stomach and knock the rest of the words out. “I mean…you’re the ones who are going down,” Andy finishes, finally tearing his eyes away from my girl. Atta’boy.

  “We’ll see about that,” Emily says, tossing her long dark hair, the red tips completely washed out, over her shoulder. She gives me one last smile before turning around and heading back to her team, confident and shining.

  “Yes, we will,” I call after her, stopping her short.

  She glances over her shoulder, cl
early catching me checking her out and winks. “Good luck with that, Slugger.”

  …

  With nearly two dozen flags in various colors stuffed safely in my pockets, I set out to find the one flag I want most. Emily’s.

  Off the main path, I move through the trees and towards the batting cages where I have a pretty good idea Emily is hiding considering how much of her free time she spends there practicing her swing.

  The sound of twigs snapping behind me sends me spinning on my heels to defend my flag, just in time to catch Jenny trying to hide behind a bush.

  “I can see you, you know,” I call out, relieved she wasn’t stealthier, since my mind was off wandering about Emily and I could have been an easy target.

  “Wow, you’re good.” She stands and brushes the leaves off the back of her shorts. “Having any luck?” She moves in my direction, not really seeming all that interested in capturing my flag.

  “A few.” I shrug off how successful I’ve been, just in case this is all an act and she still plans on taking my flag, and as a result, getting to keep all of the other flags I’ve already captured. “You?”

  “Only three. It’s too hot, and I’m tired of running after a bunch of twelve year olds who are faster than me.” She smiles, and it seems too sweet—like aspartame—so I take a step back to keep some distance between us. “Want some company?”

  No.

  Well, yes—but not exactly hers.

  “Hey, I know where Andy and Todd are hiding, if you’re looking for some easy pickings.”

  She furrows her brows, obviously skeptical of my help. “Why would you give up two of your own teammates?”

  That’s a good question. Why would I? I scramble to come up with something other than the truth—that I don’t want her tagging along and ruining my plans to find Emily.

  “Counselors before campers, right?” I say, reaching up to give her a high five like we’re in this together.

  Her smile brightens and she slaps my hand. “Totally.”

  Letting out a huge sigh of relief, I rat out Todd and Andy’s hiding spot at the horse stables clear across camp. I figure they won’t really care since it’ll be the highlight of their day to be chased around by Jenny in the low cut tank top she’s wearing.

 

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