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Camp Payback

Page 11

by J. K. Rock


  I curled my legs beneath me, the vinyl seat sticky and summer-slick while the folded envelope shifted against my thigh pocket. “Whatever. How much longer until we get there?”

  “Seriously?” His grin was open, wide, and ungodly hot.

  I blinked up at him, loving the way he’d lost his battle not to have fun around me. I never made anyone laugh at home. Usually it was all disapproving glances and lectures.

  “I kind of need to pee.”

  A long breath made his chest rise and fall. “And you didn’t take care of that before we left?”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t rushed me—”

  “Fine. We can stop in Waynesville. I was planning to anyway to take my mom’s weekend call.” He held up a cell phone. “Helena’s number is on her approved list at the jail.”

  “Then you’d better speed it up. I think my grandfather could have lapped us on his walker.”

  “Don’t make me pull this van over, missy,” Javier growled, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel to another classic tune, the streaming sunshine spinning his profile into gold.

  Goosebumps rose on my arms. “Say that again!”

  He shot me a surprised look. “Don’t make me pull this van over?”

  “No—missy. It helps me get in character in case they need an extra. Don’t forget, I’m just a poor mining girl from a hundred years ago.”

  “There’s nothing poor about you, Alex.”

  I shuffled my scuffed shoes. “What makes you say that? I don’t have anything nice.”

  “At least your family’s together. If you get in a fight, you go to your room or something. If I get in a fight, I get kicked out of the house and I’m onto a new family, new school, new rules.” He shook his head.

  “So what’s the deal with your family? Why is your mom in jail?”

  Javier’s lips turned down, and suddenly I wished I’d kept things light.

  “Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.” This time when I placed my hand on his knee, he didn’t shy away. One-story houses began to appear between the thinning trees, an occasional business flashing by.

  After a long moment of silence, his hand slipped down to hold mine. It felt warm and clammy at once.

  “Bad checks. She couldn’t keep up with daycare, babysitting, and all her other bills on a waitress’s salary. Eventually she wrote some checks she thought would clear but didn’t and they took her away. After a few times, it’s a big deal.” Javier cleared his throat and was quiet for a while before he spoke again. “She’d been fixing up our apartment in September when they arrested her this last time. It would have been my first time out of foster care in a while.”

  “That sucks.” It seemed so inadequate, but it pretty much summed everything up. How weird that all Javier wanted was to have a home and all I wanted was to get out of mine. “So do you guys ever see each other?”

  “Yeah.” Javier hit the brakes when a couple of bike-riding kids wove in and out of our lane. “I visit, and she calls every Saturday morning.”

  “You must miss her.” It was hard to imagine since I couldn’t wait to get away from my family, but Javier’s voice sounded so wistful it made me wish I had that kind of bond with my mom, too.

  “Yeah. But we’ll be together when she’s paroled. I hope.” My heart ached for him. It sounded like he loved her so much. “I’ve got to maintain good behavior and keep my nose clean at camp since Helena really went out on a limb to have me here. If Gollum tells my caseworker I haven’t caused any trouble, I’ll be able to be with my mom at the end of the summer. Although, technically, I’m not allowed to move in with her until she finds a job and a place for us.”

  “Maybe that won’t take very long. She has waitressing experience.” I gripped my seatbelt as a weird idea struck. Mom. One of her good works was helping to rehabilitate women coming out of rehab, abusive homes, or jail. Could she help Javier’s mom when she got out?

  “Yeah, but she’s also got a felony charge she has to report on every job application. It’s not easy for ex-cons to get jobs.” Javier blinked up at the ceiling, then back down at the road. “Basically, I’m the reason her life sucks.”

  I winced at the wound in his words. How could anyone as awesome as Javier make anyone’s life bad?

  “Bet she doesn’t think so.”

  Javier took his eyes off the route long enough to give me a half-smile. “She says that all the time. How did you know?”

  My breath rushed out when he faced forward once more, his cut jaw and straight nose making him look like an actor instead of a chef. Javier was hotness times a million from any distance. But this close, he was gorgeous times infinity.

  “Because anyone who knows you knows you’re special.”

  His hand squeezed mine, then returned to the wheel. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Finally.” I biffed him on the shoulder. My stomach rumbled as I spotted a Dairy Queen. Time to lighten the mood. This was my fun summer. Fun. And Javier could use some as much as me. “Hey, can we stop for a Peanut Buster Parfait?”

  “It still doesn’t mean we can be a couple.” The cords on his neck shifted as he shook his head. “And we can’t stop yet.”

  “Grinch. And again—your rules.”

  “You’re impossible.” His low, rumbling laugh sounded in the cramped space. “Has anyone told you that before?”

  “My parents. Every day of my life. How about a banana split?”

  “For breakfast? And wow, that sucks.”

  “Yeah. Like why is eating ice cream for breakfast wrong? I totally would if my parents would buy anything with refined sugar, but—”

  “No.” Javier was sexy when he smiled. But his warm, sympathetic expression stopped my heart. “I meant that being criticized all the time sucks.”

  “It’s hard not to believe what you always hear.” A salty stinging pricked the backs of my eyes. I rubbed my temples and stared out at a man watering his front lawn. It was as useless a gesture in this heat as my mini-rebellion. But darned if I’d give it up.

  “Then believe this.” Javier slowed for a stop sign and paused a second to look my way. “I think you are amazing.”

  My mouth dropped. “I think you are, too,” I whispered, my pulse tripping over itself in its rush to flood my heart.

  Javier’s lips twisted, and his eyes swung forward as he accelerated again. “Tell that to the judge. Nothing special here.”

  “Duh. You’re like the most interesting thing to happen at camp in forever. And if you loosened up a little, you’d even look like you were having a good time. Try not to work so hard and act more spontaneous.”

  “Fun, huh? Spontaneous?” His thick dark hair slid forward as his head banged to the squealing guitar solo blasting from the speakers. “Like this?”

  “Only if you want to look like a total loser.”

  We cracked up, the sound shaving a hundred pounds off the mood. “Just don’t always do what people expect,” I added.

  “Right. Like that’s a choice.” A tinge of bitterness entered Javier’s voice. His hands tightened on the wheel. “Everyone expects a convict’s son will wind up in jail, too. I have to act better than everyone else because I always get judged.”

  A car dealership full of gleaming Fords and Chevys blurred by us in a rainbow of colors. “I can relate. My brother Andrew is like the golden child, and I’m devil’s spawn.”

  “Devil’s spawn?” Javier tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture making my spine tingle with electric warmth. “An angel’s more like it.”

  For a moment, I sat in stunned silence. Now that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.

  “Wow. Guess I can stop the chatter for a minute.”

  My heart pounded. “Say that all day, and I won’t say a word.”

  “I wish I could, but we’re here.”

  Was it my imagination or did he sound ap
ologetic?

  The blinker clicked on, and we turned left into a gas station parking lot. “My mom should call soon.” He pulled out Helena’s cell phone. “I’ll talk to her while you’re inside. Okay?”

  I nodded and wobbled out of the van’s cab, mind reeling from his beautiful compliment. Was there any chance he meant it?

  Javier

  I watched Alex sashay across the parking lot in that exaggerated way that made me want to laugh and kiss her at the same time. Damn. In her tied-up white tee and cut-off jeans, she was devil and angel. That gold strip of flat belly above her low-rider shorts was hot.

  When she disappeared inside the wood-varnished store, the world rushed in on me again. A horn honked to my right, and I jogged to a nearby bench, the gravel crunching under my work boots. Why was I letting this girl mess with my head? I knew what the plan was. Understood the stakes. Yet here I was, drooling after Alex like that panting bulldog tied up under a nearby oak. The dog stood, lumbering over to greet me.

  Time to focus on my goal of getting Mom’s life back on track. I needed to graduate high school and find a decent job to support us and pay her bills when she got out of jail. It was the only way to guarantee we’d stay together and she wouldn’t go back to prison. But if I got kicked out of the foster system or moved too much to graduate on time, my permanent record would follow me around like a red flag with the message “TROUBLE.” Who’d hire me then? I had to be there for her.

  I stared down at the black reflective screen, willing it to ring. Nope. There wasn’t a chance I’d risk letting down Mom, no matter how much I liked Alex. And, yeah, I could admit that now. I knew she wasn’t just trying to play me. She was real and down-to-earth and sexy without even trying. But her parents were practically national treasures. Hooking up would cause major problems for her. She was a Wholesome Home kid, and I was anything but.

  The phone buzzed in my hand like a trapped bee. I raised it to my ear.

  “Mom?”

  “Hi, Javi. What’s new at camp?”

  Since I’d come to Camp Juniper Point, Mom couldn’t hear enough stories. It sucker-punched me to think her interest in the great outdoors came from never getting to see them herself.

  “I’m not at camp today.” A wet nose rubbed against my calf, and I ruffled the bulldog’s short ears.

  “Are you in trouble?” Mom’s voice rose. I could hear her fingernails tapping against the payphone at the jail, a babble of voices in the background.

  “No. No. It’s good. I got a temporary job with a catering company this weekend. It’s for a movie.” My chest swelled a little at that. It still felt unreal to be picked to cook alongside professionals.

  “Wow. Big time. You always loved learning those Venezuelan recipes I taught you. There was the perico— those eggs you used to make me for breakfast when you were twelve, remember?”

  My throat closed around itself. How could I forget? It was the last full year we’d lived together. She’d taken off for work in the next state over, and I’d been stuck alone all the time, wondering when she’d return. It had been right after we’d moved to North Carolina and she’d moved next to Helena, a friend she didn’t think would mind checking up on me every now and then. But that year, things had started to fall apart. Two years after that, she was in jail again.

  “Javi?”

  “Yeah, Mom.” I rubbed my eyes. The sun was too bright so I strode under the tree, the dog on my heels. “I remember.”

  “So how’s that camp director doing? What’d you call him?”

  “Gollum.” I plucked off a broad oak leaf and fanned the panting dog. If I had a breath mint, I would have slipped him one. He reeked, and his gooey saliva kept landing on my ankles.

  My mother chuckled. “That’s right. Did he swallow that precious whistle of his yet?”

  “Mom.”

  “It’s a joke, Javi. Sheesh. Always so serious. Now. Did you go on any canoe trips? Mountain hikes? No, wait. Didn’t you say there was a camp scavenger hunt the last time we talked?”

  I paced, hating to make up stories. Lying about working felt wrong, but she’d vetoed the idea when Helena called her with it. Out of options, we’d told her I’d accepted a scholarship instead of a job. If she knew I was cleaning dishes instead of having a wild, fun summer, she’d be sad. Mad even.

  “We had to hunt for things that started with the letter ‘S,’ so first I had to find a spoon, which was easy because I was already in the kitchen.”

  “Hey,” my mother interrupted, her voice harsh. “Trying to talk to my kid here so wait your turn.”

  “Mom, do you need to go?” I tossed the bulldog’s soggy ball and took my first odor-free breath when he ran for it on his long lead.

  “No, but this lady’s going to be taking a hike in a second if she keeps bugging me. Go ahead, sweetheart. So what else did you have to find?”

  “Then we had to find a shell.” A small breeze lifted my hair off my sweating forehead. I should have gotten a buzz cut before summer started. “So I went down to the beach—”

  “When did you go on a scavenger hunt?” Alex snorted behind me. I held in a swear word that would rile both Alex and Mom.

  “Who’s that?” My mother’s voice rose.

  “Uh…” I stalled, then turned and walked away, cupping my hand over the cell. “No one.” My voice broke like a preteen.

  “No one?” Alex practically screeched, her long, reddish brown hair aflame under the glaring sun.

  “That sounds like a someone to me. Put her on.”

  “What?”

  “I want to talk to the girl who’s spending the day with my boy. And maybe more. Make sure she’s not trouble.”

  I almost choked on that but arguing with my mom was useless. Kind of like arguing with Alex. I handed the phone over. An enormous bubble nearly engulfed her small round face before it popped.

  “Mom wants to say hi.”

  “To me?” Alex’s eyes widened before she snatched the phone. “Hello, Ms. Kovalev—Okay, Sofia. I’m Alex. What? Yes. It’s short for Alexandra. Um—I don’t know if it’s Russian. I got it because my parents wanted a boy.”

  There was a pause, and then my mother’s laugh came through the phone, followed by Alex’s giggle. How did I know these two would get on like instant B.F.F.s?

  “Your son? He’s behaving too much. He hardly ever leaves that kitchen. What? Hikes?” Alex’s surprised glance flew to me, and I shot her a pleading look.

  She wagged a finger, and I steeled myself for the worst.

  “Oh, yes. Javi does those things, too, of course. In fact, we’re doing this thing, Secret Camp Angel, and he carved this awesome hobbit out of soap and gave it to another camper named Julian. He’s like this total Lord of the Rings fan and—”

  My shoulders lowered in relief, even though Alex now knew my nickname. Wow. She’d covered for me. Crisis averted. Lucky for me she’d helped deliver Julian’s gift before we left this morning. After a few more exchanges, she handed the phone back.

  “That’s a very nice girlfriend you have there, sweetheart. Don’t mess it up.”

  “Mom.” I walked a few steps away and lowered my voice, hoping an idling diesel truck would cover the sound of my voice. “She’s just a friend.”

  Another argument broke out on the other end of the phone before she replied. “I doubt she’s ‘just’ anything. Look, I’ve got to go, but enjoy yourself, okay? Knowing that you’re having fun is what keeps me going. If we can make it through another month and a half, things will be good again, all right, Javi?”

  I put a hand on the rough tree bark and leaned. Wow. I knew she liked my stories. Never understood how much she needed them, too.

  “Right, Mom. I’ll talk to you next Saturday.”

  “I love you, honey. Goodnight, Irene.”

  Irene. I pinched my eyes shut, willing back the wetness. Since I’d hated saying goodbye to her as a kid, we’d made up a special code word for it—my favorite childhood song.


  “Me, too. ‘Night, Irene.’”

  When I punched off the phone, a soft hand fell on my arm.

  “Are you all right?” Alex’s eyes were large and deep. I wanted to fall into them because for the first time in a long while, I felt like someone might actually catch me. But I squared my shoulders instead.

  I wasn’t going to get Alex mixed up in my problems.

  “Sure, let’s go.”

  Alex

  “More cilantro!” Javier shouted over the hum of the commercial-size blender.

  We’d been working in the cramped quarters of a mobile catering unit just off Main Street in Waynesville for two hours already, and we hadn’t even hit the noontime rush yet. I was sweaty from playing gopher girl and filling orders at a take-out window built into this kitchen-on-wheels.

  “Cilantro?” I juggled a couple of vegetable fajitas for an impatient old guy, trying to remember what category of food cilantro fell into. “That’s a spice, right?”

  My eye roved the built-in wall of seasonings near the dry goods cabinet.

  “Excuse me, darlin’.” One of the other women working in the catering truck, Marianne, squeezed past me. “I’m taking a smoke break, but I’ll be back in five. You’ll be okay?”

  “Fine!” I lied brightly, knowing twenty people would show up requesting fancy coffee drinks from the espresso machine I couldn’t work the second Marianne left.

  “It’s the green plant, Alex,” Javier called. “There are bunches of it in the back of our van.”

  “I’m on it.” I shoved fajitas at my customer and dashed out of the truck toward the nearby van.

  The set had gotten busier since we’d first arrived. I’d heard some buzz at the take-out window that a big shootout scene was being filmed today, and I hoped I’d be able to see some of it from our spot.

  Grabbing a tray of green herb-looking stuff from Javier’s food stash, I slid the van door shut and dashed back toward the mobile kitchen. I edged around a couple of guys carrying big sacks of weapons—antique rifles with the occasional bayonet mixed in.

 

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