KAYLA
All the camp counselors are lined up outside, waiting for the first bus of campers to arrive. The four volunteers we have for the week, Hunter included, are inside setting up icebreaker activities. We’ll have twelve campers—six boys and six girls—and the week will follow the same schedule it did during training, weather depending.
“Here they come,” Claire sings, bouncing on the balls of her feet. A large black charter bus angles around the narrow dirt road, kicking up dust behind the wheels. I see the excited faces of the campers, aged between seven and twelve, pressed against the windows.
“Welcome!” Claire grins as the kids spill out of the charter. “We’re so excited you’re all here. Let’s head inside, where I’ll introduce you to your counselors.”
Chase and I have four campers. Two boys—Aiden and Caleb, and two girls—Katie and Liz. We teach them a couple of camp songs and chants, and then dive into the icebreakers.
“If I could be any animal, I’d be a giraffe,” Chase says. The kids snicker.
“Who picks a giraffe?” Caleb responds with a forceful guffaw, knocking into Aiden, who’s laughing just as hard. I can’t help butlaugh along with them, tipping my head to the side to see whether Chase is serious.
“Why a giraffe?” I ask with genuine curiosity.
He shrugs. “They just seem nice…”
Another hooting laugh from the boys gets us all smiling.
“Plus, they’re tall, smart, and loyal.” Chase looks right at me, like his list of giraffe qualities double for qualifications to an unspoken job listing between us. I shake my head, giving him a warning look before taking my turn.
“Well, I’d be a hummingbird,” I say. “Because their wings flap so fast they can hover in the air, and they’re impossible to catch.”
“Fitting…” Chase quips, nodding slowly.
“That’salmostas bad as a giraffe,” Caleb snorts. “If I were an animal, I’d be a lion, that way everyone would know I’m the king.” He stands and flexes his skinny arms, mustering all the confidence a nine-year-old can, while nodding his head, his afro bouncing up and down. From what I’ve seen, he’s a funny kid who lights up whenever he makes the group laugh.
Once he sits, we learn Aiden would be a bear and Liz would be a swan. Katie chooses not to answer, her dark hair falling over her face like a thick black curtain, and we don’t push her.
Some campers need a while before they come out of their shell. She reminds me of myself the first year I came to Camp Bender.
“Well, I’m excited to hike up Bender trail to see the waterfall,” I say, moving into the next icebreaker.
“I’m excited for the ropes course!” Aiden exclaims, his brown hair falling into his eyes as excitement courses through his body.
“Ooh, yeah!” Caleb agrees.
Liz taps her chin with her pointer finger, twirling one blond pigtail with the other. “Hmm, I’m excited for the arts and crafts, I think.”
Katie plays with her laces, not answering.
“How about you Katie? What are you excited for this week?” Chase prompts. She shrugs and continues lookingat the floor. “That’s okay.” His smile is kind as he taps a finger on her shoe. “You’ll find something when you’re ready.”
Of course he’s good with kids.Charming, helpful, funny, and now this? I can’t catch any breaks here. It’s like the more I learn about him, the closer I’m pulled toward the caution tape.
Chase turns to the group and says, “I’m excited to get to know everyone.” His eyes shoot to mine, blazing briefly before he smiles at the kids, and it takes everything I have to keep from biting my lip in response.
The ropes courserotation goes off without a hitch. Our campers chatter excitedly as we switch out the group for rappelling. Claire secures the ropes for Aiden and Liz on the platform, while Chase is up there double-checking helmets and tightening gloves. There’s no mistaking the rapport he’s built with the kids—encouraging when they doubt themselves and being energetic when they need motivation. He smiles, giving Aiden a high five as he jumps with excitement at getting all the gear on. I grin to myself while watching the exchange before turning to Katie and Caleb, making sure they’re ready to spot their partners with Kyle’s guidance.
“Wow… I can’t believe he’s up there,” Hunter says, shaking his head as he comes to stand next to me.
“What? Why not?”
“Your boy up there doesn’t do heights. I’m surprised he isn’t clinging to the ledge, hyperventilating.”
I ignore the clear prodding at his use of “your boy,” and concern myself with the hyperventilating part. Scrunching my nose, I look back up to the platform to see Chase tightening Liz’s helmet, smiling with ease. “He seemed fine last week when his shoe got stuck,” I say.
“Shoe got stuck? Where?”
