The Last July: A New Adult Romance

by Breanna Mounce

  I stop talking because I feel like I’m saying too much and boring Kenny.

  “Well, sorry things didn’t work out. Breakups are hard no matter what.” He seems mature beyond his years, which is something I think I’m naturally drawn toward.

  I chuckle and roll my eyes. “Nah, it wasn’t bad. It was a long time ago anyway. Well… long time ago in my eyes. I just wish we could have stayed friends.”

  When I look up at Kenny, he’s just about to sit down next to me when the door to the cabin slams open and we both jump at the sound.

  Viv is giggling and has her arms wrapped around Sampson’s neck, enveloping him in a kiss. She glances over at me and her eyes look sinister.

  “Oh hey, you two. Sorry for barging in, we’ll be down the hall if you need us.”

  When I glance to Sampson, his cheeks are red and he appears to be trying to remove himself from Viv’s clutch. She ignores his efforts and pulls him down the hall by the hem of his camp polo.

  Once the door closes to Viv’s chamber of lust, Kenny and I look at each other. His face is just as red as Sampson’s, as if he was just caught doing something that he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

  “I should get going, sounds like the storm has calmed down,” Kenny says, rubbing unseen tension out of his neck.

  I nod. “Yeah, I’ll see you around then.”

  Kenny smiles and waves good-bye, leaving me to sit and try to ignore the whispers and unmentionable sounds coming from the cabin’s designated private room. I try not to think about Sampson’s lips on mine at the pool, especially now that they’re back on hers.

  I’m startled awake, finding I’ve taken an unplanned nap while trying to ignore Viv and Sampson. When I jump up, I almost hit my head on the bunk above me and quickly lay back down.

  Sampson is kneeling next to my bunk, and I reach down to pull my cover over my head in embarrassment. “Jesus, haven’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘don’t wake a sleeping bear?’” I scold him.

  “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier.”

  I pull the blanket down so just my eyes are peeking out. “Which part? When your crazy girlfriend threatened me or when she stormed in and made my friend uncomfortable?”

  “All of it. I know she’s a bit much, but she’ll grow on you.”

  To me, it sounds like he says the same thing to a ton of people because I don’t see Viv ‘growing on me’ at any point in my life, but I won’t say that to Sampson.

  “Where is she right now? I’m sure you’ll get in trouble for speaking to me,” I mumble under the blanket.

  “In the shower. I was just heading out to get ready for dinner.”

  He stands up and fiddles with the collar on his polo. I notice a small bruise on his neck, along with some smudged pink lipstick.

  “Hey, I’m probably in the wrong for saying this, but keep your guard up with her. I know I just met the both of you, but make sure she is who you think she is before things go too far,” I say, and I mean it.

  He glances back toward the hall where we both hear the shower turn off and then looks at me with understanding in his eyes.

  “Do you know something?” he whispers. “You would tell me if something was going on right?”

  I want to tell him what I saw the first day when I got here, how I saw her with Mr. Casanova, but I’m also terrified of her following through with her threats. She’s turning my happy place into hell on earth.

  “All I’m saying is to keep your guard up. I’m not looking to get in between you two and start any drama. I’m just saying that you might not be seeing what everyone else is seeing,” I try to explain.

  The hair dryer turns on and Sampson gives me a simple nod before he turns away and heads out the door, just as a lingering peal of thunder sounds.

  After five more days of training and hazing from Viv, I’m in need of a day off. I just want to be alone for a while. Most of my fellow counselors got away from camp while they still could. The parking lot only held about five cars, mine included. I spent most of the morning not running into anyone, not even the cooks because they got the day off.

  After I make myself some toast in the kitchen, I head off for the small lake hoping to have it to myself so I can relax. I already feel so much better considering Viv left last night after dinner. She said she was going to a college party and she’d be back late Sunday.

  Not that I care.

  The lake is empty when I get to it, fog rising from the water, creating an eerie feel. All the paddle boats, canoes, and kayaks are still propped up alongside the shed where we keep life jackets. I search for a life jacket that fits me, pull it off the clothes line, and pick my kayak and an oar out of the bin. Every noise I make breaks the silence.

  I drag it over and gently slide it into the lake, making ripples across the calm surface, the tadpoles hanging around the dock quickly swim away. Once I’m situated, I push off with my oar. A few ducks swim by hoping for some bread crumbs, but I finished my breakfast on the way over. Once they realize I have nothing to offer, they move along.

  I paddle around slowly, in no rush to be anywhere, just enjoying the peace and solitude. The shed doors slam closed behind me, and I almost tip over in a panic to see what’s happening. I try to stay calm and assume a deer bumped into it in confusion.

  Turning around, I see Sampson coming over to the observation deck with a fishing pole and some bait, a tackle box already sitting opened and ready to be rifled through.

  “Sorry, mind if I fish for a bit? The fish bite more in the morning,” he asks.

  “Just you?” I respond.

  He nods.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” I say, and turn away pretending like I have somewhere to go, but the lake isn’t big at all. You can only put about six canoes on it at once before it feels crowded and everyone’s bumping into each other. To call it a lake is honestly an over exaggeration. It’s so small that any fish caught has to be released.

  Sampson and I say nothing else for a few moments that feel like an eternity, but when I look at my watch, it’s been only thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of me paddling in a circle and him not catching a fish. Not that I was paying attention.

  “You’re a crappy fisherman,” I comment as I paddle over to him. “If you were in the apocalypse, I’m sure you wouldn’t make it long.”

  He smiles down at me. “Maybe you’re just scaring them away with your terrible paddling.”

  “If anything, I’m helping by pushing them toward you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

  “Meh, I haven’t studied the life of fish, so I wouldn’t know,” I start paddling back to the loading deck.

  “You done?” he asks.

  “Yeah, figured I’d find something else to do. No one’s here, I’ve never had the camp all to myself.”

  He meets me over at the smaller deck and sits down to hold the kayak with his feet as I pull myself out and up. He also pulls the kayak out of the murky water for me, and I slide the life jacket off and take it back over to the line.

  “Want to get lunch later? There’s a nice bar back in town…” he asks, pulling the kayak back to its resting spot.

  I hesitate at the word bar. “I’m not sure I can get in,” I say, feeling embarrassed by my age.

  “It’s more of a bar and grill. Kids go there all the time… not that you’re a kid. It’s just not a normal bar until late. Under 18 is allowed in until 10, I think.” It’s kind of cute when Sampson stammers on, but I scold myself for even thinking such things.

  “Yeah, sure. When and where?” I ask.

  “I’ll drive, it’s easy to miss. Just meet me at my car at noon. It’s the blue Ranger,” he says with a smile.

  “Kay, sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  Lunch is fine, I tell myself. What Viv doesn’t know won’t kill her, right? I just hope she doesn’t kill me.

  After changing my outfit five times in an attempt to look nice, I’m running a
bout five minutes late. All I brought to camp was about two weeks’ worth of t-shirts and gym shorts. I finally settle on a plain black tank top and a pair of khaki shorts that somehow made it into my bag, then make a note to bring back nicer stuff the next time I go home to visit.

  After running all the way from my cabin to the parking lot by the welcome center, I’m out of breath and can feel the dry dirt covering my toes. I cough and can practically taste the dirt in my mouth. Everything in the camp is dusty, especially if it hasn’t rained in a few days.

  Sampson is patiently waiting at his Ford, leaning against the bumper. Then he sees me, and his face brightens up a bit.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” I say when I make it to him. “Lost track of time.”

  “You’re fine, hop in. Hope you’re hungry. They have fantastic food,” he says.

  I smile and climb in the passenger side and pull my seatbelt across my chest to fasten it. Sampson has already put the top down, and I’m thankful I kept my hair in a ponytail instead of fussing with it.

  Sampson and I are both quiet on the drive. I just enjoy checking out the countryside and listening to the music he selected. I’m a strong believer that lyrics can say so much about a person. I recognize the song and it makes me relax a little.

  “Here we are,” he says, turning the music down as he turns into a small parking lot and into one of the open spots.

  “Irene’s,” I say reading the sign. “So, does Irene actually work here?”

  “Not anymore. She opened this bar before I was even born, but passed away a few years ago. It’s family owned and almost all of the employees are relatives,” Sampson says, sliding out of the Ranger

  I slide out and follow him inside the dark bar. I’m expecting to be hit with a huge cloud of cigarette smoke when I walk in, but the air is actually easy to breathe. There’s a bartender cleaning drinking glasses at the bar where only three people are sitting, and a waitress comes out from what looks like the kitchen just as we’re sitting down at a booth in the far corner.

  “Hey darlins’,” she says as she lays two drink napkins in front of us and hands each of us a menu. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “I’ll just have a Guinness,” Sampson says easily.

  “I’ll have a Sprite,” I say, feeling lame for not ordering a beer.

  The waitress nods and heads over to the bar to get our drinks. I look over the menu, trying to find something that I like other than chicken nuggets. Kids eat chicken nuggets. Boneless wings are the same thing but more grown up, right?

  “They have amazing sandwiches and burgers here,” Sampson says. “I usually get the Reuben.”

  The waitress comes back with his beer and my pop. “You guys know what you want?” she asks with a thick southern accent.

  Sampson nods and tells me to go first, so I glance back down at the menu and order the first thing I see under the pasta header. He orders the Reuben with a side of wings and the waitress heads off to the kitchen.

  “So…” Sampson says, not followed by anything.

  “So…” I say too. “What’s on your schedule for the rest of the weekend?”

  He takes a sip of his beer and then puts it back down, licking the foam off his lips. “Not much, just planning on hanging out. You?”

  “Same, can’t go home. It’s not worth it because of the drive. Are you planning on going home?”

  Sampson hesitates before he answers. “I might tomorrow for lunch. Want to join me?”

  Two dates in two days? But… are they dates?

  Viv’s face comes to mind and the thought of what she would do if she knew I was spending the evening with Sampson and his parents, what she’d do if she walked into this bar right now, flashes through my mind. Her recent threats on getting me fired seem legit, but I agree to go for lunch at his parents anyway.

  “Awesome, I can just pick you up at your cabin.”

  “How far of a drive is it?” I ask, wondering if we’ll have time to get back before Viv questions why either of us disappeared.

  He takes another sip of his beer and I’m thinking he does that to give himself time to think. “Not far at all, actually. We’ll be back to camp before you know it.”

  “Someone said your parents bought Camp Arthur, is that true?” I ask, sipping my Sprite.

  He blushes. “Yeah, I should have told you, but it just never came up and I don’t like telling people. They’ll end up thinking I get special treatment because of it.”

  “Aren’t you…” I say, but I’m not sure about how to phrase it so I just let the words tumble from my mouth. “Aren’t you afraid of what Viv will say if she finds out that we’re hanging out two days in a row? I don’t want to get between the two of you. I’m not looking for drama this summer…”

  Before he can respond, the waitress comes by and drops off our food. I thank her and wait for her to walk away before turning back to Sampson for an answer.

  “She won’t be back until late Sunday,” he says. “When she’s not required to be here, she doesn’t return until she’s needed. You honestly probably won’t see her until Monday afternoon.”

  “How reliable,” I say under my breath before taking a bite of my food.

  “I’m sorry for how she’s treated you so far,” Sampson says, taking a bite of one of his fries. “I’ve never seen her be this shitty to a person. She can be a bit snobby normally, but this is a new level. I’ll talk to her, I’m not sure what has gotten into her.”

  In that moment, I know I should probably tell him what I saw that first day when I walked in our cabin. How she’s probably treating me like crap because I saw her hooking up with someone that’s not her boyfriend, someone who isn’t Sampson.

  I’ve spent the last week going over ways I could tell him and trying to predict his possible reactions, some ending up with Viv cornering me in the bathroom and beating the crap out of me like a bully in an 80’s teen movie to Sampson telling me I’m a liar and me getting kicked out of camp for ‘starting drama’.

  I twirl pasta onto my fork and just shrug my shoulders, not wanting to tell him. “You don’t need to say anything. I’ll accept being her punching bag for the time being.”

  “You shouldn’t though,” he says. “No one deserves to be treated the way she’s treating you.”

  I shrug and twirl another section of my pasta, not making eye contact with Sampson. “So tell me, why are you with her? What makes Viv so… desirable?”

  When Sampson doesn’t respond, I look up to see if there’s any sign of me upsetting him with my question. He’s glancing away and chewing on a bite of his Reuben. A bit of thousand island dressing has escaped to the corner of his mouth. When he finally swallows and looks at me, I see hesitation in his eyes.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. I guess it’s because we met in college, at orientation actually. No one was talking to either of us, so we banded together. See, Viv wasn’t always a social butterfly, she was pretty chill before college started. By the second semester though, she had joined a sorority and we only had time to hang out on Sundays. I finally got up the nerve to ask her out when she dragged me out of my dorm to go shopping for a dress to wear to her first formal.

  “She was complaining because none of the Sigma guys were available, and she didn’t want to go alone, but she was required to go. She heard one of her pledge sisters talk about how ‘if you didn’t show up with a date, it was social suicide’ so I told her I would go.”

  “And she agreed?” I ask.

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Hell no! She told me if I ever wanted to go with her to a sorority party, I had to be in a frat. I ended up doing what any man with ‘puppy dog syndrome’ would do…”

  “No,” I say, my jaw dropping and slamming my hand on the table. “Tell me you didn’t join a frat just for a girl.”

  He smiles. “But, of course, I did.”

  “So, you got the girl. Are you still in the frat?”

  “You’re looking at the VP,” He tells me,
wiping his hands on his napkin.

  I stare at him in awe. “You don’t even look like a frat boy though, where are your dockers, your boat shoes, and your Greek shirt? Do you have your letters tattooed down your neck?”

  “Whoah, hey,” he says putting his hands up in a playful surrender. “Stereotype much?”

  “Sorry, but seriously, you don’t fit the mold. I mean, you have the possessive, psychotic girlfriend...”

  “Don’t let Vivian represent the whole Greek system. We actually do a ton of charity and community activities. She’s pretty good at helping her sorority be more involved around town, even during the summer. She works hard…”

  “Why do I feel like you’re always making excuses for her?”

  Sampson pushes his plate away and laces his fingers together, putting them in front of him. “Let’s forget about her right now. Let’s hear more about you, Miss Secretive.”

  “What do you want to know? I’m an open book.” I say, taking a sip of my drink and looking at him through my eyelashes.

  “The first night, you know you don’t have to try and impress anyone, right? Most of these people are secret train wrecks anyway,” he says.

  Ah, I was hoping we would never have to speak of that night again, but it was bound to come up sooner or later. “Live and learn, right? I never do that by the way… that was a big mistake,” I tell him.

  “No harm done,” he says. “We all have our moments.”

  I nod and finish my lunch as we banter back and forth about home life, friends, school, and what we’re hoping to get out of this summer. I feel the anxiety of Viv’s threats slide away the more Sampson and I talk. I almost wish that Viv wasn’t in the picture so he and I could at least have a friendship.

  “I can’t believe you’ve only been at camp for like, a week, and you’re already meeting your new boyfriend’s parents,” Janine says from my cell phone speaker. Her voice fills the empty cabin, making me feel like she’s actually here, which is a good thing. It’s calming my nerves.