“Are the snakes going to eat us?”
I have to laugh.ThisI can honestly answer without freaking her out.
“I’ve been swimming in this lake hundreds of times, Sadie. I haven’t been eaten yet, if that makes you feel any better.”
The tension in her body eases, but she doesn’t make any moves to let go—which is fine by me, as long as I tell myself I’m just being a good guide, that it’s okay for us to be this close right now since I’m helping her through the water.
It’s a stretch and I know it.
“Let’s get you back in that kayak, okay?”
Once we’re beside it again, she shifts off me so I can flip it right side up.
Getting Sadieinis another ordeal altogether.
It’s too unstable, even with me holding it, for her to get in on her own without having solid footing underneath her. She tries a few times, laughing with every failed attempt.
“How about this?” I say, repositioning myself in the water so my knee is a makeshift stepstool. “Climb up and I’ll help you in.”
The water makes everything more difficult—slick skin and a kayak that doesn’t want to stay put—but we get it together, and she’s finally almost there. I’ve got one hand on each of her thighs, bracing her asshe climbs in, biting the inside of my cheek to balance out all the other things I’m feeling with her bikini bottomsrightin front of me.
“Bet you’re glad I used the waxing strips now,” she says, and I laugh.
I couldn’t care less about the waxing strips—her legs under my hands would feel good no matter what.
She settles into the kayak, looking so proud of herself for finally conquering it.
“How are you going to get back into yours?” she asks. “And…what about my paddle?”
I follow her gaze out to the middle of the lake, where the yellow blades of her paddle are bright, blazing beacons on the green-blue water.
At least it’s the kind that floats.
After an invigorating swim there and back to retrieve it, I hoist myself up into my own kayak and we’re back in business.
Gotta be honest, though: I liked it better when we were in the water.
Matteo’s been in a foul mood all evening. After our afternoon at the lake, he headed off alone, breaking our own rule. He’s seemed on edge ever since.
We eat around the campfire, the various cliques mixing more than they have until now. Brittany’s comparing sunburns with Hunter and Silas—Hunter wins that competition by a mile, having forgotten to sunscreen his entire back—while Joshua and Zoe continue to bicker with each other (as they’ve been doing all day). Sadie’s sitting next to me but is chatting with Parker and Emma.
Which leaves Matteo and me. We’re sitting opposite each other, the flickering flames a healthy barrier between us. No one else seems to be paying attention to the way he’s keeping to himself tonight, scowlingand silent. It’s unlike him—he’s an extrovert to the max. He was fine at the lake.
So what happened?
After dinner, I see him darting back toward the clearing he shared with Joshua and Zoe last night.
“Hey, man,” I call after him.
He doesn’t slow down.
“Matty,” I say more insistently, but he continues to ignore me.
I would leave him alone if he were any of our campers. Iwantto leave him alone for personal reasons. But I feel an obligation to make sure he’s okay—not just for myself, but for everyone who’s looking to the two of us to keep them safe out here.
“Everything okay?” I try, a last-ditch effort.
This, finally, is the thing that makes him stop.
