“To new possibilities,” Jesse says, raising his glass.
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, like I’m not in a paroxysm of anxiety over Kei and his underwear model ex. I throw back my glass and take several deep swallows.
The moment Teddy sloshes over to Trina and Sid, I let myself peek at Kei and Alessandra. She’s sitting too close to him, and while he doesn’t look happy, exactly, he doesn’t look uncomfortable. Her proximity is natural for him, a realization that drops into my consciousness like a heavy stone.
Jesse is talking in that way that men do, like what they have to say is just so fascinating and important. He’s so absorbed in the minutiae of his story that he fails to notice I’m not listening at all. I’m transfixed by the way Alessandra has stretched out her long legs, resting her feet in Kei’s lap. She’s listening intently to Kei, looking up at him through her long lashes.
“Cleo?”
For a moment I don’t know who Jesse is, but then I snap back to reality. He’s holding out the wine bottle, and I gladly accept a refill.
“So,” Jesse says, swirling his wine. “Where’s your head at with Kei?”
What is the truth of the situation that I can speak to? “He’s a really sweet guy.” I take a long drink. “We’re getting to know one another.”
“Are you open to getting to know someone else?” He looks so hopeful.
I slug back the rest of my wine. “Maybe,” I say, a giggle slipping out. Shit, maybe I’d better slow down. But then he launches into a story about how he’s renovating his grandfather’s old house, and I reach for the bottle again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kei put his hand on Alessandra’s shin. My own shin aches in the exact same spot.
“I’d love to show it to you one day.”
What? Oh right, the house. “Mmm,” I say as I down half of the glass I’ve just poured.
“Listen,” Jesse says, setting his wine glass down on the plank bench separating us at the centre of the canoe. “This might be coming on a bit strong, but I could be going home tomorrow, and I need to shoot my shot.” He licks his lips. “Can I kiss you?”
I don’t particularly want to kiss him, but maybe it will jolt me out of this emotional stupor. Maybe it will redirect some of these feelings away from Kei.
I nod, and Jesse leans forward. I brace myself against the rocking of the canoe as I scoot toward him, trying not to spill my wine. Jesse puts his hand on my jaw and pulls me closer.
The kiss is not bad as much as it’s challenging. The canoe lists from side to side, sending him colliding into me, but once we hit our rhythm, it’s not terrible. He doesn’t dart his tongue in and out of my mouth, or slobber on my chin or gnash his teeth against mine. But his lips are too soft and fleshy, his breath is too sweet, and it’s just not right.
None of it is right.
I pull away, shaking my head. I glance toward the shore. Kei is staring at me, his mouth slightly open. Good.
Emboldened, I lean back in and kiss Jesse again. The canoe rocks and we tumble into one another, my wine splashing against his white linen shirt.
“Shit! I’m sorry,” I say, pawing ineffectually at his chest. I’m suddenly very tired, and I just don’t want to be here, in this boat with this guy, anymore. “I think I drank too much.” I can feel Kei’s eyes on me. “I should go.”
Jesse looks annoyed and confused, but he doesn’t protest. He also doesn’t help me climb out of the canoe, and I end up splashing clumsily into the water, soaking the bottom of the tight coral-coloured mini dress that I borrowed from Valeria.
I right myself, and wade to shore with my shoulders thrown back, trying to preserve some shred of dignity. I’d have to do a wide and obvious loop to avoid Kei and Alessandra, so I walk right past them, using a heroic level of restraint to not check if they’re looking at me, if it’s jealousy or pity in their eyes.
Back at the Bunkhouse, I stay in the shower until the water runs cold, waiting for these feelings of shame and regret to wash away.Have I ruined everything?
I climb into my empty bunk, pulling the thin flannel blanket up to my chin. The room rocks back and forth, as if I’m still in the canoe, so I put one foot on the floor to ground me. Across from me, Damian and Harmony are curled into one another, already asleep. One by one, the other campers trickle in. I can identify them just by the sounds of their movement. When I fall asleep a long time later, the only empty bed is Kei’s.
Chapter Twenty-One
The next morning, our seventh at camp, we barely need producer intervention. We know to split by gender at breakfast and to talk about our feelings and our relationships, something I’m still not comfortable with, but faking it has gotten easier.
Until this morning, that is. Today, I’m despondent. I’m certain I’ve ruined things with Kei, whether it’s because I let myself develop actual feelings for him, or because I kissed Jesse, or because I’m only a reasonable facsimile of a woman in comparison to Alessandra. She’s a lingerie model, and I don’t even own any lingerie. I haven’t had a boyfriend who’s respected me since eighth grade. I can’t even find west, for fuck’s sake. I look at her across the Mess Hall. She’s sitting with the other female POPPs, looking relaxed and confident. Might as well start packing my bags.
Valeria has taken the lead on directing the conversation this morning, making sure everyone gets a turn to talk about their POPPs. She grills each of us, and when it’s my turn, I say something non-committal about Jesse being “super sweet.”
“Good morning, campers!” Gabby has appeared, a wide smile belying the dark circles under her eyes. She’s accompanied by a short, broad man in a crisp navy suit. He has tanned, leathery skin, and a head ofthick, white hair. He looks so out of place in his fancy suit and shiny shoes that it takes me a moment to recognize him.
Oh. Holy. Shit. It’s the Silver Fox.
