The Lake

by Natasha Preston

  “What happened?”

  “They were the wrong people to try it with; we weren’t tight enough. We grew apart, but we all know each other’s secrets so we’re all fake nice to each other, talking about the weather and how lame school is. I don’t even think school is lame.”

  I pour two mugs of coffee. “So why did you do it with us?”

  She shrugs. “I just felt, like, I don’t know, that we clicked. Our little group of six. I’ve never had that. The only thing I had in common with my high school ‘friends’ was that we were all running from the same bully.”

  “I’m sorry high school sucked.” I was never bullied, but I know it’s traumatic, never being able to get away from the people making your life a misery, not even at home thanks to social media. Feeling alone is awful; feeling alone and hated must be unbearable. “You have us now.” I hand her a coffee. “And soon you’ll be in college.”

  “Thanks. I sure hope college is different.”

  From what my mom has told me about her office environment, I don’t think anything is too different from high school. But I don’t tell her that.

  Kayla and I weren’t part of the popular group. Well, she could have been, but she stuck with me. We were somewhere in the middle. It was the best place to be. We didn’t have to pretend the way the popular people did, and we didn’t have to fear anyone like the unpopular people did.

  Rebekah and I grab some breakfast and sit down. I sip my coffee and dig my spoon into my cereal.

  Over Rebekah’s shoulder I see Olly walk in. The khaki shorts and white T-shirt look great on him. He scans the room and his bluey-green eyes settle on us. I get a mild electric shock.

  “Olly’s here,” I say as he makes his way toward us.

  Rebekah takes a quick look and turns back. “He so likes ya,” she sings quietly.

  I wide-eye her, telling her to shush as he approaches.

  “Morning.” He sits down next to me. “You two okay?”

  “Yep,” we reply at the exact same time.

  His smile widens. “How’s the coffee?”

  “It’s fine,” I reply.

  Rebekah adds, “It’s no Starbucks, right, Esme?”

  I groan. “Don’t remind me about Starbucks. I would kill for a vanilla latte.”

  “Kill is a little strong, isn’t it?” Olly asks, lifting his eyebrow.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Rebekah eats her banana in silence, watching us like we’re in a play.

  “We have a whole day to hang out…and do final final checks, apparently. I’m going to grab some food, and then we’ll head out there, yeah?” Olly says.

  “Sure,” I reply as he heads for the cereal.

  Rebekah smirks.

  “Don’t say a word.” I’m pretty sure I’m blushing a very unflattering shade of red.

  She puts her banana peel in her bowl. “Okay, I’m going to see if Tia is up. Meet you at the dock?”

  I know exactly what she’s doing.

  “Rebekah!”

  Laughing, she adds, “Enjoy breakfast.”

  She leaves just as Olly puts down a bowl and coffee. He sits. “Hey, where’s she going?”

  “To find Tia.”

  To leave us alone. Why? What does she think is going to happen over breakfast? He kisses me? Announces love at first sight? No. Insta love is dumb.

  “Do you know what jobs we have to do today?” I ask.

  “I don’t think we’ve been assigned anything yet. Andy did say we could get on the lake, explore the camp and the forest if we want, get to know the place before the campers arrive.”

  We have a grand total of seven cabins. I don’t think anyone is getting lost.

  I nod. “Good. I’m going to spend the whole day chilling around camp. There won’t be much chance for that later.”

  “That’s true. What have you and Rebekah been doing this morning?”

  “Not much, I haven’t been up long. She seems really nice.”

  Nice and…something. I haven’t figured it out. It’s probably her shy nature and desire to please. When someone is like that, it’s hard to know the real them.

  4

  My eyes are saucers.

  That is a lot of children.

  Today the campers are arriving—all fifty-six of them. Although I knew how many were coming, actually seeing them all in one place makes it seem like a lot more.

  I tie my hair on top of my head and smell the coconut-scented SPF 50 on my skin.

  I’m both excited and nervous. Then I suddenly realize that I’m one of the people responsible for keeping all these kids alive for six whole weeks. My chest tightens.

  What if I lose one on a hike? What if one drowns?

  They’re everywhere, hugging parents and chatting enthusiastically with their new camp friends. Andy and his clipboard are out in force. He’s frantically ticking people off and telling them where to take their things. No one else has been trusted to do that. He’s a bit of a control freak, I think.

  The camp is buzzing with excitement and nerves.

  “What were you expecting?” Kayla asks, taking in my panicked expression.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  She laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “We’re going to be fine. We’ll have a small group each and be with counselors the whole time.”

  “You look like you’re going to pass out,” Olly says, stopping beside Kayla and me. “Second thoughts, or Andy’s cooking last night?”

  “No, I’m good. Got a little worried there, but I’m over it now. I will not lose a child,” I say.

  He dips his chin. “Good. That’s good.”

  While the campers get settled and say their final goodbyes, half of the counselors stay outside and half are in the cabins helping. We want it to look like there are plenty of CITs and counselors. The parents of these children are trusting us.

  My eyes drift to the shortcut through the woods. Are we terribly irresponsible to sneak off? I mean, we’re not on duty every night.

  Stop overthinking!

  A little girl, probably eight or nine, clings to her mom’s waist. Her big green eyes shed tear after tear while her mom tries to reassure her that she’ll have a good time.

  A lot of the parents are leaving or have already left.

  In the clear blue sky, the sun shines down, making this the most beautiful day for the campers to arrive. The whole camp looks bright and inviting.

  “Hi,” I say, walking over to the little girl and her mom. “I’m Esme.”

  The mom looks up. “Oh, Esme. Andy just told us that you’re Isabel’s CIT.”

  I smile, trying to look friendly and reassuring. “Hi, Isabel. This is my first time being a counselor here, so you’re not alone, okay? It’s new for me, too.” Her eyes meet mine, but she still keeps a tight grip on her mom’s T-shirt. “We’re going to have the best summer ever. Remember you can write your mom anytime you like, so you’re not saying goodbye right now, you’re only saying see you later. Would you like to come with me?”

  Isabel presses her lips together, completely unsure.

  I add, “I think we’re going to do some ‘getting to know you’ games before we cook a welcome lunch on the campfire. You could help me until you feel like joining in, if you like?”

  “Go on, Isabel. You’ll be fine, my darling,” her mom prompts.

  “The trees are scary,” Isabel says.

  I shake my head. “I promise you, there is nothing scary in the woods.”

  “Okay.” Isabel lets go of her mom, giving her one last kiss on the cheek before she leaves.

  “Let’s go find the rest of our group. We’re looking for Maisie, Addison and Audrey,” I tell her.

  “Do you know who they are?” Isabel asks.
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  “Not yet, but we can find them. They’re also part of the E Team.”

  Isabel follows me as Andy shoots off more instructions, calling out names and telling children which staff member to go with.

  I find the three other girls, then stand with Kayla and her group.

  There are a lot of children. I hope I can remember them all. Or at the very least remember the ones I’ll be spending the most time with.

  I wipe my forehead as the heat scorches my skin. None of the campers care how hot it is.

  I don’t know why Andy insists on cooking on a fire in this heat.

  Tia rocks on her heels, grinning at her little group like she wants to corrupt them all. I’m sure she won’t. Well, I’m not sure. She’s standing next to a petrified Rebekah, who periodically glances at one of her campers, a girl with makeup, glossy, straight hair and low heels. A queen bee type. She’s going to have to change into tennis shoes soon.

  I can’t help feeling sorry for Rebekah as she glances worriedly at a girl nearly ten years younger than her. The kind of girl who probably made Rebekah’s life miserable in school. That’s unfair, though. The girl isn’t necessarily a bully just because of her stereotypically popular-girl appearance. Kayla isn’t.

  We’re split, Kayla and me with Cora’s group. Three adults and twelve children. Olly and his group head toward the lake, but we’re staying near to the tennis court to play our “getting to know you” games.

  Cora takes over, but Kayla and I stand with them. Cora explains what we’re going to do. We’re playing All About Me tennis. Each time you hit the ball, you have to call out something about yourself, like your favorite vacation destination, animal, color, food, class at school, celebrity, etc.

  I remember playing the exact same game when I was a camper.

  The girls split easily into groups of two, each twosome taking a tennis racket. I stand on the sidelines with Kayla. The girls call out random facts with every hit of the ball. Laughter fills the stifling-hot air, and none of the campers seem to care about the heat.

  “They’re all so adorable,” Kayla says.

  “Remember when that was us? You spent the first few hours crying because you missed your mom and then forgot to write to her the rest of the summer.”

  “Oh, but she wrote to me. All the time!”

  “She’s your mom.”

  “And you,” Kayla says, “were so cute, the smallest one here with the biggest green eyes that matched the leaves on the trees. You looked around as if you’d never seen a lake or forest before.”

  “Okay, so I didn’t get out much. I was way less tragic the second year we came.”

  But we don’t need to talk about that second time.

  Kayla laughs. “All right, I’ll give you that. I’m so excited these girls get to experience this. They’re already making friends.”

  “So are you,” I say, arching an eyebrow.

  “You’re talking about Jake.”

  My smile widens. “Ding, ding, ding.”

  “He’s hot.” She side-eyes me. “Almost as hot as Olly.”

  “Don’t start.”

  Andy calls an end to the games after an hour. Most of the kids have swapped partners and met new people. The rest of the afternoon is spent splashing in the lake, and the evening toasting s’mores on the campfire and telling crazy stories about killers in the woods.

  There aren’t killers in the woods, but I did lie to Isabel.

  Bad things do happen there.

  5

  Yesterday was tiring, yet here I am, wide awake at five a.m. Below me, Kayla’s deep breathing vibrates through the room. If I didn’t love her, I’d throw something at her.

  No one is getting up anytime soon, and I’m bored. There is no rule about me leaving the cabin in the morning. I won’t go far, just outside to see if anyone else is up. Besides, Kayla and Cora are still here.

  Twisting my body, I carefully climb down the ladder, holding my breath as if breathing is the part of my escape that could wake Kayla. I don’t think a marching band could wake her this early.

  My feet touch the cool wood floor. I quietly change into my camp T-shirt and shorts and creep out of the room. The door creaks when it opens and I wince. I’m sure it doesn’t do that during the day. After a quick head count—every camper is still in their bed—I leave the cabin.

  Even though the sun won’t rise for at least another hour, it’s not too dark.

  I pull my jacket on and walk down the few steps to the grass.

  Rebekah is up early again. She’s sitting on the beach, by the firepit. She has a blanket around her shoulders and her eyes are fixed on the center of the lake.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I ask, walking toward her.

  She jolts and looks over her shoulder. “Hi. Esme. Yeah, I’ve just never been able to sleep late when I’m away from home.”

  I sit on the sand and curl my arms around my legs. Me neither, apparently. “Nothing beats your own bed.”

  “How come you’re up so early?”

  I shrug. “I can’t sleep. Excited, maybe?”

  “I wish the hall was open so we could at least make coffee.”

  “Andy probably sleeps with the key on a chain around his neck.”

  That gets a laugh out of her. “He loves it here. He’s not so bad, though.”

  Rebekah seems like the type of person who would bite her tongue so that she doesn’t end up in the middle of any kind of conflict. Hopefully, that’s something she will leave here. It doesn’t seem like she stood up to her bullies.

  “The lake is eerie first thing in the mornin’. Dark and quiet, like it holds a lot of secrets,” she says.

  Okay…

  “Have you been all the way around it?” I ask.

  “No, not yet. The other side is owned by the camp, right?”

  “Yeah, about a full five-minute walk past the lake. After that, it’s a public forest and the locals use it to hike and camp. I remember when I was here last, an old couple wandered onto camp land. I think they put up even more signs around the perimeter after that.”

  The land is far too big to put a fence around, so signs are necessary.

  Rebekah nods. “Didn’t something happen over there, past our site? I overheard one of the counselors mention there was a fire or something.”

  I shrug and swallow acid at the same time. “No idea.”

  “So, Esme”—she sits straighter—“tell me more about you. What’s the plan after college?”

  “I’d love to be a journalist. I love the hustle and going out on the hunt for stories.”

  Her light eyes watch me carefully. “But you seem too honest to do that.”

  I laugh and hope it sounds normal. “I want to write facts. There are still some news outlets that do that.” And probably four times as many that don’t.

  “You might be the first.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You don’t like journalists?”

  Rebekah turns away, her eyes settling back on the middle of the lake. “I don’t like lies.”

  “What’s your plan, then?”

  She blows out a breath. “I wanted to swim in college.”

  “Not anymore?”

  Shaking her head, she replies, “No. Now I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  She hesitates. “I didn’t get a scholarship. I like where I’ll be going, but there’s no chance for swimming. I’m going to take all the classes I can and see what I like.”

  “That’s cool. You can go wherever your heart takes you.”

  “Do you have siblings?” she asks. “I only have a brother.”

  “I’m an only child, but Kayla feels more like a sister than a friend.”

  “Well, you’re not missing much.”


  “Don’t you get along with your brother?”

  “We’d do anything for each other, but he’s twenty-eight, so we don’t have a lot in common.”

  “I always wanted a protective older brother.”

  Rebekah scoffs. “Trust me, you don’t. Hey, do you think Tia is going to make us sneak out tomorrow?”

  “She can’t make you do anything, but I think we’re going next week. We need a couple of nights to figure out what happens after lights-out, make sure no one sees us breaking out.”

  “By that you mean when Andy goes to bed.”

  Nodding, I say, “Precisely.”

  “Do you even know where we’re going?”

  “Apparently there’s an arcade and bowling alley on the edge of town. Tia looked it up. So we’re basically sneaking out to be thirteen again.”

  With a soft giggle, Rebekah stands. “Andy is up.”

  I follow her gaze over my shoulder. Andy walks from the staff cabin where he has a room next to the food hall.

  His step falters as he spots us. “Rebekah, Esme, what are you doing out here?”

  I stand and head toward him. Rebekah follows, staying a step behind me. “Neither of us could sleep. Do you need us to do anything?”

  He nods. “I could use some help setting up for breakfast,” he says as he lets us into the hall.

  That’s in two hours. This summer could pass very slowly if I keep getting up before the sun. Though I like the peace first thing. The lake is quiet, like it’s sleeping.

  The key is returned to his pocket. Not around his neck, then.

  I wonder where he keeps it at night. In his shorts?

  I’d love to be able to get in a late-night snack, but the thought of going through his shorts is nasty. They’re a little shorter and tighter than they need to be. Ew.

  Rebekah and I begin to bring tubs of cereal into the dining hall. There will be pastries too, but we don’t need to get those out until closer to eight.

  Andy hums as he works and pushes one hand through his red hair.