The bus doors opened with a hydraulic hiss, and kids started pouring out like ants from a kicked hill. Kevin appeared at the top of the steps, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, hair sticking up in every direction.
"Mom! Shane!" Kevin waved both arms over his head like he was directing aircraft. Several other parents turned to look, and Shane felt April tense slightly against his side. They hadn'texactly announced their relationship to the world yet, but that was about to change, once they talked to Kevin.
Kevin hit the ground running, literally, and crashed into April hard enough to make her stumble. Shane steadied them both, one hand on April's back.
"Guess what! Guess what!" Kevin was bouncing. "I remembered everything Shane taught me on our hike and I beat Regis at the orienteering competition!"
"That's wonderful, baby." April hugged him tightly, breathing in the smell of campfire smoke and kid sweat. "I'm so proud of you."
"He gotsolost!" Kevin pulled back, grinning. "Like, totally lost. And I found the last checkpoint first! The counselor said I was the best young navigator he’d ever seen!"
Shane grabbed Kevin's duffel bag from where he'd dropped it. "Good job, bud. Sounds like you had fun."
"It was awesome! My flag football team won. Oliver was on the other team, and he hates flag football because he’s not very good so when he fell, I helped him back up. And at archery I got the most bullseyes, and at the campfire quiz I knew all the answers—" Kevin was walking backwards toward the truck, still talking at full speed. "And when we did the relay race my team won because I was the fastest and I had to help Oliver back up again, and?—"
Shane caught April's expression shift. Just slightly. Just enough that he noticed the way her smile went from genuine to fixed.
They loaded into the truck—Kevin in the back seat beside Pete, who he hugged while still talking—and headed toward April's house. Shane drove while April half-turned to look at her son, asking questions about the food and his cabin and whether he'd gotten any sleep at all. He barely answered them and continued bragging.
"Oh, and the spelling bee!" Kevin leaned forward against his seatbelt. "We had this camp spelling bee thing and Ialmostwon that but Oliver came in first because he always does, and that’s cool. But Regis got knocked out in thefirstround." He laughed. "He was so mad his face turned red!"
"Kevin." April's voice had an edge now. "That's enough." She turned back around and faced the windshield.
Kevin didn't catch it. "But Mom, it was so funny! He couldn't even spell 'necessary' and that's like, super easy?—"
"I said that'senough."
This time Kevin heard it. He sat back, his grin fading slightly. "I'm just saying what happened."
"You're gloating." April kept her eyes forward. "We don't gloat when we win and we really don’t gloat when someone else loses."
Shane glanced in the rearview mirror. Kevin looked confused and a little hurt.
"I'm not gloating," Kevin said. "I'm not competitive. I'm just always the best at everything."
Shane felt April go rigid in the passenger seat.
April whirled around to face her son. "Isthatyour attitude?"
Kevin shrugged. "Not attitude. It's the truth. I beat Regis at orienteering, and at archery, and at the quiz, and?—"
He wasn't reading his momma's cues as she raked her fingers into her hair on either side of her head, her face scrunching into a pained frown.
"That's enough. I didn't raise you to be arrogant."
"Mom! I'm not! It's just the truth."
Shane pulled into April's driveway and put the truck in park, but neither April nor Kevin noticed. They were locked in their own standoff.
April pointed toward the house. "Just go to your room. You’re so good at spelling? Great, I want you to write 'I am humble' a hundred times in one of your notebooks."
"Mom! That's not fair!" Kevin stomped his foot as his voice rose to a shriek on the last word. Pete lowered his head, then curled into a ball.
April lowered her voice to a dangerous tone. "Go now before you're in real trouble." She pointed toward the house again.
Shane saw it coming, saw Kevin's face crumple and then harden, saw the eight-year-old boy make the worst possible choice?—
"I hate you!" Kevin yelled.
