Stealing Third (11 page)

Spending
the entire morning mopping up the disgusting aftermath of a food fight is not
exactly what I would call a good time. Kissing Tyler some more—now that’s a
different story. Too bad we were interrupted by Captain-brainless-bod and his
trusty sidekick, Jenny-from-the-cockblock. Talk about bad timing.

Still
covered with the remnants of this morning’s shenanigans, I pull my hair into a
messy top knot and quickly change my shirt while Jenny finishes showering and
redoes her hair, despite the fact she barely had a drop of sticky syrup or a
splash of orange juice anywhere near her.

I
shake my head. What’s the point of getting clean when were about to get soaked
at the boat races and then muddy playing tug of war? That is, if we make it
down to the lake in time.

“Hey,
are you ready yet?” I call into the bathroom, tapping my foot against the wood
floor, the sound echoing through the empty cabin.

Jenny
strides out of the bathroom, dressed like she’s about to sail Nantucket Bay
instead of paddling a canoe across the lake, and tosses her perfectly styled
hair over her shoulder.

“Watermelon
or Cherry?”

“What?”

Crinkling
her nose, she holds up two tubes of chapstick and repeats her question again,
this time dragging out every syllable like I’m an idiot. “Watermelon or
Cherry?”

I
toss my hands in the air. “Does it really matter?” I ask, not even attempting
to hide my annoyance. I’m actually surprised I’ve lasted this long considering
how many hours I was stuck in the cafeteria watching as she threw herself, and
her boobs, in Tyler’s face.

She
smiles, ignoring my frustration. “You’re right. Boys like anything that tastes
like food, so I can’t go wrong either way.” Jenny slathers on the bright red
one and then grabs a chubby eye shadow pencil from her makeup bag and tosses it
in my direction. “Here.”

“What’s
this for?” I turn it around in my hand and read it’s name. Milk.

“Go
Team White, right?” she says, taking the pencil from me and uncapping it before
writing ‘Team’ on one side of her cheek and ‘White’ on the other.

I
let out a surprised laugh. Despite my annoyance at her for flirting so
shamelessly with Tyler all morning, her sudden enthusiasm for the color war—a
side I’ve never seen of her—is contagious.

Taking
the jumbo eye pencil from her, I drag a wide white stripe onto the tops of my
cheeks, like the black grease baseball players wear to help reduce glare, and
frankly, look totally bad ass.

I
glance in the mirror, looking pretty bad ass, too.

“Let’s
go kick some color war butt!”

…

When
we reach the edge of the lake, the relay race has already begun, but there are
still a half dozen pairs left to go, so we slip into the back of the line.

Like
a mosquito being drawn to the glow of a bug light, I find Tyler easily, as he
stands on the shoreline with the guys from his cabin cheering on their team.

Wearing
an easy smile and a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a fitted white tee-shirt that’s
soaking wet—revealing his washboard abs and cut shoulders—and a red bandana
tied around his wrist, I feel a jolt of electricity run through my body. Just
like that bug.

“Omg.
Look. At. Those. Abs,” Jenny says, sending another jolt through my body, but
this time it’s jealousy that sears.

I
clench my fists, and dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand to stop from
telling her those abs are mine and to stop checking them out. Except, I get it.
It’s hard not to look because he’s so freaking hot.

The
dock vibrates as our team’s canoe rams against it, jostling us both back into
the present. It’s our turn.

“Okay,
let’s do this,” I say, hopping into the boat behind Jenny, careful not to tip
it as the other two girls from our cabin climb out.

Taking
off, we row to the end of the lake in perfect unison, thanks to Jenny.
Utilizing her skills as the coxswain for the crew team, she calls out our
strokes as we go, our shared power and rhythm allowing us to take the lead on
our way back, leaving the red team in our wake.

At
the edge of the water, a crowd of colors—white, red, blue, green, yellow, and
orange—speckle the landscape as Jenny and I fly past the dock and into the
shallow end of the lake. When we hit the sandy bank the crowd erupts, sending
the white team rushing into the water, splashing and cheering our victory.

“Congratulations
on your win, ladies,” Tyler says, giving me a smile that’s better than any win
I could imagine. He helps drag our canoe onto the shoreline after the crowd has
moved on to the next competition. “Not sure you’ll be so lucky at the tug of
war, though. We have a secret weapon, you know.”

His
teasing smile makes my heart skip a beat, but it’s the wink he gives me that
makes it speed up like a fastball with some heat behind it.

“Is
that right?” I arch an eyebrow.

“Hell,
yeah, that’s right,” Todd says, walking up from behind me and flexing his
muscles like he’s in a body building competition. He drops an arm over Jenny
and I’s shoulders. “It’s me.”

“I
actually meant me, doofus—I’m kind of a pro since Coach makes us do tug of wars
for strength training exercises every day.” Tyler kicks up a splash of water at
Todd. “And get away from the competition.”

I
press my lips together to keep from breaking out into a full on grin at the way
Tyler eyes Todd’s arm until he takes it off of me.

“Well,
I guess we’ll just have to see about that,” Jenny says, giving the guys a
flirty smile before looping her arm in mine and sashaying us away. “And I bet
that’s not the only thing he’s a pro at,” she whispers so loudly I’m positive
it was meant for Tyler’s ears and not mine. But she’s right, which puts an
extra sashay into my own hips.

…

Tyler
wasn’t kidding. He is kind of a pro.

Defeated,
I watch him, Todd, and the rest of the red team celebrate their tug of war win,
marveling not only at their total domination, but also at the fact their
clothes are somehow still clean. I’m completely covered in mud.

“All
right, campers,” Walter shouts into a megaphone, “Lunch is à la carte today, so
you can head to the cafeteria, which is now clean.” His tone takes on a
disapproving note—just in case we were unsure about his feelings on the food
fight earlier. “After that, there will be free time until the camp wide color
war campfire tonight, where we will be serving hotdogs, hamburgers, chips and
s’mores.”

Yum,
s’mores.

A
ghost of a touch on my hand sends goose bumps across my skin. “I’m not sure if
you look cuter covered in whipped cream or mud,” Tyler says quietly, leaning
over my shoulder.

I
whip around, grinning. “That’s funny, I was just wondering the same thing about
you.” I laugh, taking a step closer to him, my muddy hands ready to ruin his
perfectly clean shirt.

“How
about you meet me behind my cabin in a few minutes and we can find out,” he
murmurs before turning around, shoving his hands in his pockets, and walking
away like it’s no big deal.

I
watch him retreat, my eyes as wide as my smile. I’m surprised by his bold
proposition considering were not under the cover of darkness like last night,
or even earlier today. But I like this side of him. Apparently when Tyler
commits to something, he goes all out.

“Hey,
Em,” Lucy shouts right before tackling me with a bear hug, her orange tee-shirt
and white knee high socks completely covered in mud as well. “Tied for first
with the red team, good job!” The enthusiasm in her voice and her honest
excitement for my victory is exactly why she’s going to make a great elementary
teacher one day.

“You
guys did great, too. Technically you’re in second place.”

“Not
for long.” She smiles rubbing her hands together. “It’ll be a three way tie
before the end of the night. We have the hotdog eating comp in the bag.”

I
laugh. “You know it’s totally gross your boyfriend can eat so many hotdogs in
one minute, right?”

“Oh,
you’re just jealous he’s on Team Orange this year.”

I
nod because she’s totally right. He’s a machine. “Well, I guess we’ll have to
wait and see how the rest of the week shakes out. You know the egg toss and
dodgeball are my specialties,” I say, mimicking tossing a ball, or an egg in
this case, and causing a chunk of dried mud to fall off my arm with a plunk.

“Ew.
It looks like you need to go get cleaned up worse than me.” Lucy wraps her arms
around my neck and squeezes tight before skipping off towards the dining hall.
“I’ll see ya later tonight, okay?” she calls back, waving.

I
smile and wave back until she’s out of sight before heading down the trail to
Tyler’s cabin. It’s quiet, since most of the guys are either eating lunch or
already down at the lake ogling girls, but I steal a glance over my shoulder
just in case, before dashing off the dirt path and into the woods behind
Tyler’s cabin.

Leaning
up against a tree, Tyler jumps when he hears me. “Took you long enough,” he
says, reaching out and wrapping his hands around my hips to draw me into him,
unfazed by my muddy appearance.

He
drops a soft, sweet kiss on my lips as I rest my chin on his chest, my arms
around his waist. “Hi.”

“Hi,
yourself,” he says back, brushing his nose against mine before kissing me
again, this time long and deep.

A
loud, rambunctious laugh from the other side of the cabin breaks through the
quiet and makes us still. Listening to the laughter come closer and closer,
Tyler grabs my hand and pulls us out of the woods and into the hidden space by
the back door of his cabin as two guys, dressed in all blue, emerge from behind
the cabin next to Tyler’s and start to toss boxers onto the tree limbs.

“What
are they doing?” Tyler asks under his breath, making sure the guys don’t hear
us.

“Color
war pranks,” I say like it should be obvious.

“Oh,
is that so, Camp Champ know it all?” Tyler grips my sides and starts to tickle
my waist.

Doubled
over and trying not to make a sound I press back, away from his reach, and end
up falling through the back door of his cabin and onto the ground as he
continues his pursuit until I can’t help but laugh out loud.

“Wait,
did you hear that?” Tyler stops, his hands hovering just above my belly. I
clamp my hand over my mouth to stop the lingering giggles as the sound of
footsteps echo against the front porch.

“Oh,
shit,” Tyler breathes as the front door starts to creak open, panic surging
through the both of us at the likelihood of being caught.

“What
are we going to do?”

Tyler
grabs my hand and helps me to my feet, his eyes shooting between the front door
and the back door like a trapped cat. “Here,” he says, yanking me into the
bathroom.

I
glance around the tiny room. “What now?”

He
whips back the thick plastic shower curtain, pulls me in, and slides it shut
before the sudden spray of water drowns out my pounding heart.

Pressed
against the plastic wall of the tiny shower stall while someone rummages around
in the main cabin is not exactly the way I imagined having Emily in my shower
for the first time. But I’ll take it.

Trying
to calm my heart, I pull in a deep breath and glance down at Emily. Her body—flattened
tight against mine as a steady stream of water pours over us—doesn’t help the
cause. My heart doubles in speed.

“I
think we’re good,” I mouth when the noise finally stops, and the front door to
the cabin slams shut.

Relieved
we didn’t get caught, I sag against the wall and let rivulets of warm water run
over my tense shoulders as I mentally berate myself for being so careless.

What
was I thinking? Oh yeah, I haven’t been. At least not logically ever since
meeting Emily. And right now is no exception.

Leaning
down until my mouth is at her ear, I tighten my arms around her waist and pull
her so close my excitement is obvious. “I want you so bad right now,” I
breathe, stealing Emily’s words from the dock and wondering if she’ll remember,
because I can’t forget.

She
tips her head back and lets out a breath I think she’s been holding ever since
I yanked her in here with me, and gives me a mischievous little smile.

“You
know what I want?” Her whispered voice is low and breathy and makes me want her
even more by the second.

I
brush my lips against hers. “Anything.”

“To
get dry,” she says matter-of-factly, “and for you to not get in trouble.” Smiling,
she lifts up on her toes, kisses my shocked face, and then slips out of the
shower, leaving me stunned.

“Oh,
and, Tyler,” she says, popping her head back in, as droplets of water drip down
the sides of her face. “That was for teasing me on the dock—but this,” she
yanks the hot water dial all the way to the coldest setting and giggles, “is
for throwing me into the cold lake.”

My
jaw drops, along with my body’s core temperature as the freezing cold water
douses me. Yep. She remembers.

Shaking
my head back and forth, I laugh. Man, that girl is crazy. And I’m crazy about
her.

…

After
nearly a week of color war competitions—which has kept me from spending any
real time with Emily, besides a few stolen glances, and even fewer stolen
kisses since she left me to take a much needed cold shower—I’m anxious to
finish up in the clinic with Doc and see her.

“Good
work today, Tyler.” Doc scribbles on a stack of papers attached to his clipboard
before setting them down on the counter next to the glass jar of tongue
depressors I just finished restocking.

“Thank
you, sir. I, uh, mean, Doc,” I correct after earning myself a look.

“That’s
more like it.” He smiles before gesturing to the window with the hairline
fracture running down the middle of it. The remnants of the rogue egg hitting
it less than an hour ago splattered across the glass. “I’m sure you would have
had more fun out there today, as opposed to treating
another
case of
poison oak.”

I
glance into the room across the hall where the three middle school boys covered
in globs of pink calamine lotion are still denying it was a dare gone wrong.
“No, I appreciate this opportunity so much; I’m just happy to help out any way
I can.”

“Well,
I appreciate having you here.” Doc smiles. “Now go on and have some fun,” he
says, waving me away before strolling out of the room and into the next. “All
right, boys, anyone ready to confess yet?”

I
laugh, leaving Doc to it, as I fly down the stairs and out the front doors of
the office.

The
rank smell of eggs, warming in the early afternoon sun, hits me harder than
Emily’s curve ball did during our pickup game, making me relieved I missed
getting covered in yolk. Despite the fact I would have totally crushed it at
the egg toss.

As
I make my way towards the red team, through the crowd of campers fastening on
their capture-the-flag belts and gearing up for the final color war
competition, I can’t help but scan the packed field for Emily.

“You
made it!” Andy says, tossing me a belt; his unnaturally natural red hair is the
only thing he needs to show his team spirit. I—on the other hand—decided to
rock a red plaid button up, a plain white tee, and my favorite red Chucks.

I
fasten the belt around my waist and position it so the red vinyl flag sits
closer to my hip than my butt, so I can better defend against sneak attacks.

A
sudden wash of bright white in my peripheral vision diverts my attention away
from everything except Emily in a pair of jean shorts, a tight white v-neck
tied up on the side so her belly button ring is showing, and a pair of white
tennis shoes. Damn.

Resting
her hands on her hips, she juts out one of her long, tan legs. “Ready to go
down, Team Red?”

“You’re
the…going…um…” Andy stutters, sounding the way I must look—like my jaw is
detached and hanging loose.

Trying
to stop him from ogling, I swing the back of my hand into his stomach and knock
the rest of the words out. “I mean…you’re the ones who are going down,” Andy
finishes, finally tearing his eyes away from my girl. Atta’boy.

“We’ll
see about that,” Emily says, tossing her long dark hair, the red tips
completely washed out, over her shoulder. She gives me one last smile before
turning around and heading back to her team, confident and shining.

“Yes,
we will,” I call after her, stopping her short.

She
glances over her shoulder, clearly catching me checking her out and winks.
“Good luck with that, Slugger.”

…

With
nearly two dozen flags in various colors stuffed safely in my pockets, I set out
to find the one flag I want most. Emily’s.

Off
the main path, I move through the trees and towards the batting cages where I
have a pretty good idea Emily is hiding considering how much of her free time
she spends there practicing her swing.

The
sound of twigs snapping behind me sends me spinning on my heels to defend my
flag, just in time to catch Jenny trying to hide behind a bush.

“I
can see you, you know,” I call out, relieved she wasn’t stealthier, since my
mind was off wandering about Emily and I could have been an easy target.

“Wow,
you’re good.” She stands and brushes the leaves off the back of her shorts.
“Having any luck?” She moves in my direction, not really seeming all that
interested in capturing my flag.

“A
few.” I shrug off how successful I’ve been, just in case this is all an act and
she still plans on taking my flag, and as a result, getting to keep all of the
other flags I’ve already captured. “You?”

“Only
three. It’s too hot, and I’m tired of running after a bunch of twelve year olds
who are faster than me.” She smiles, and it seems too sweet—like aspartame—so I
take a step back to keep some distance between us. “Want some company?”

No.

Well,
yes—but not exactly hers.

“Hey,
I know where Andy and Todd are hiding, if you’re looking for some easy
pickings.”

She
furrows her brows, obviously skeptical of my help. “Why would you give up two
of your own teammates?”

That’s
a good question. Why would I? I scramble to come up with something other than
the truth—that I don’t want her tagging along and ruining my plans to find
Emily.

“Counselors
before campers, right?” I say, reaching up to give her a high five like we’re
in this together.

Her
smile brightens and she slaps my hand. “Totally.”

Letting
out a huge sigh of relief, I rat out Todd and Andy’s hiding spot at the horse
stables clear across camp. I figure they won’t really care since it’ll be the
highlight of their day to be chased around by Jenny in the low cut tank top
she’s wearing.

I
wait until she’s taken off before breaking out into a quick jog up to the
baseball equipment shed. It’s right next to the batting cages, and would be a
perfect place to hide.

“Crap.”
I kick the dirt when I reach the shed and find the doors standing wide open.
Besides a bunch of helmets, bats, and buckets of baseballs, it’s empty. “Now
what?” 

I
shove my hands in my pockets and glance back and forth, unsure where to look
now, since I was certain she would be up here.

“Didn’t
peg you as the quitting type,” Emily says, stepping out from behind the shed
and startling me.

Ah.
There’s my girl.

“Me?
Quit?” I say as she turns and makes a run for it. “Never.”

Following
the sound of her giggles, I chase her into the dense woods behind the field,
but stop short when I don’t see her anywhere.

I
move through the trees as quietly as possible, listening for deep breathing, or
the sound of twigs breaking, but it’s completely silent except for the distant
echoes of campers screaming and laughing down by the lake.

“You
might as well come out,” I call out, into the quiet. “I’m going to find you,
you know.”

“And
what do you plan to do when you find me?” Emily asks, walking out from behind a
tree and leaning up against its trunk, her voice light and tinkling.

That’s
a good question. I drag in a deep breath and take her in as rays of sunlight
break through the piney branches above. There are a thousand and one different
things I’d like to do, but when she pulls her lip into her mouth and bites, my
answer’s clear.

I
take three short strides to close the distance between us, cup her face in my
hands and whisper against her lips, “This.”

“That’s
what I was hoping,” she whispers back before kissing me the way all of our
stolen kisses have been, with a sense of urgency.

A
bird taking flight above breaks us from our furor. Pressing my forehead against
hers with my eyes still closed, I suck in a few ragged breaths as I rest one
hand against the trunk of the tree above her head while the other one drifts
from her face, down her arm, and to her lower hip.

“Oh,
no you don’t.” She slinks out of my grip and darts around the tree, causing me
to take a header into the rough bark.

My
eyes snap open and I rub my forehead. “What the?”

She
peeks her head around the side of the tree, her eyes wide with concern. “I’m so
sorry,” she pleads, stepping out from behind the thick trunk, her hand hovering
over her mouth. “I thought you were trying to steal my flag. Are you okay?”

“I
will be,” I say softly, drawing her closer, “if you’ll kiss it and make it
better.”

She
stops short and arches her eyebrow as I try and stop my face from revealing I’m
totally full of it. Crossing her arms, she looks me over until I can’t help
breaking into a devious smile.

“Well,
it was worth a shot.” I shrug. “I guess I’ll just have to get your flag the old
fashion way.”

“I
knew it!” Emily squeals before taking off out of the trees, and onto the field.
Running across the wide swath of green grass in the outfield, she heads for the
baseball diamond.

Close
behind her, I slow my stride and enjoy the chase as her giggles fill the empty
field.

“Emily
Evers, with an easy double straight down the middle of the field is rounding
first,” I say in my best announcer’s voice. “And now second,” I call out,
closing the distance between us and adding some pressure. “Is she gonna go for
it? Yes, yes she is folks—she’s stealing third,” I shout between cupped hands
before pretending to be a roaring crowd cheering her on.

Glancing
over her shoulder at me and laughing, she jumps onto the third base bag with
her hands raised in the air triumphantly, before crying out in pain and
crumpling to the ground clutching her ankle.

For
a split second I wonder if she’s faking an injury to capture my flag, until I
see her eyes well up with tears.

“Emily.”
I rush to her side and kneel down, taking her quickly swelling ankle into my
hands and jumping right into doctor mode. “I need you to tell me if it hurts
when I press, okay?” She nods as her pooled tears spill over.

Probing
first the inside of her ankle and getting no response, I move to the outside
and earn a yelp when I press just underneath her ankle bone. As gently as
possible, I run my thumb along her calcaneofibular ligament, giving me
flashbacks of my final exam—which seems like forever ago now—and feel no
obvious tears.

“Is
it…is it broken?”

“It
looks like it’s just a sprain, but I still want Doc to take a look and make
sure I didn’t miss anything.” I sweep my thumb across her cheek, my heart
breaking that she’s in pain. “Until then—I can kiss it and make it better if
you want?”

“Cute,”
she says, giggling between sniffles as I pucker my lips, lean down, and kiss
her ankle.

Emily’s
laugh lifts a weight off my shoulders. “You know, seeing you cry might just be
the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”