Chapter 7

There are two types of people at camp when waterskiing.

People who are just trying not to fall.

And people who shouldn’t be allowed near a boat because they get cocky.

Unfortunately for everyone—

I am the second type.

“Next up—Kennedy.”

I look up from the dock.

Quinn’s in the boat, one hand on the wheel, not even checking the clipboard.

She already knew.

“Finally,” I say, standing up. “I was getting bored.”

“You’ve been here ten minutes.”

“Longest ten minutes of my life.”

A couple campers laugh.

Quinn just nods toward the water. “Get in.”

Bossy, as usual.

The lake is perfect.

Flat.

No wind.

Glass.

I slide into the water, pushing my braids back, grabbing the handle.

“Anything I should know?” Quinn calls.

I grin. “Try to keep up.”

There’s a pause.

Then—

A small, sharp smile.

“Hold on.”

The boat takes off with a clean pull.

I pop up instantly.

Easy.

I hear a couple campers cheering from the dock.

Good.

They should be impressed.

I cut left.

Then right.

Wide.

Fast.

Letting the spray kick up just enough.

I don’t even think about it, it’s muscle memory at this point.

Years of this, summers and summers since I was a kid.

I risk a glance toward the boat.

Quinn’s watching.

Not casually, not half-distracted like usual.

Focused.

Like she didn’t expect—

No.

Like she’s reassessing.

Good.

I pick up speed.

Push harder, cross the wake sharper.

Then—

I drop one hand, just for a second.

Just to be annoying.

The dock loses it.

“OKAY KENNEDY—”

“SHOW OFF—”

“DO IT AGAIN—”

I laugh, pulling back into control.

When I finally let go and sink back into the water, I’m grinning.

That felt good.

The boat circles back.

Quinn leans over the side slightly. “Get in.”

I swim over, grabbing the edge and pulling myself up.

Water dripping everywhere.

I don’t even care.

“Well?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer right away, just look at me.

Then—

“Wow.”

I blink. “That’s it?”

“You want a medal?”

“Yes.”

She huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re good.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Just good?”

“Really good.”

There it is.

I lean back slightly, satisfied. “Thank you.”

A pause, then—

“You’ve done that before.”

“Once or twice.”

“How long?”

“Since I was like… ten?”

She nods slowly. “Makes sense.”

“Were you impressed?” I push.

She glances at me with that look again.

“You think I wasn’t?”

I grin. “I think you’re hard to impress.”

“Maybe.”

“But I did.”

Another pause, then—

“Yeah.”

That one’s quieter.

Less teasing, more real.

I look away first this time.

Because if I don’t, I’m going to smile like an idiot.

The rest of the period feels different.

Subtle, but there.

Quinn lets me stay in the boat longer, lets me call a few rotations, doesn’t correct me as much.

Which—

Is either trust, or a test.

Probably both.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she says at one point.

“Too late.”

“I mean it.”

I glance at her. “You don’t like confidence?”

“I like earned confidence.”

I smirk. “Good thing I earned it.”

She looks at me for a second.

Then nods once.

“Yeah,” she says. “You did.”

At lunch, I barely sit down before Annabelle leans across the table.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m talented.”

“You were so extra.”

“The crowd loved it.”

“You did that for Quinn.”

“I did not.”

“You literally looked at her mid-run.”

“I was checking speed.”

“You dropped a hand.”

“That’s skill.”

“That’s flirting.”

I choke on my drink. “What?”

Emily laughs. “She’s not wrong.”

“Yes she is.”

Caitlyn grins. “You were showing off.”

“I always show off.”

“Not like that.”

I open my mouth, then close it.

Because—

Okay.

Maybe a little.

“Whatever,” I mutter.

“Mhm,” Annabelle says.

The rest hour interrogation from my campers is worse.

“You were SO GOOD.”

“I know.”

“Like actually insane.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you see Quinn’s face?”

I freeze.

“…what face?”

They all look at each other.

Then back at me.

“That’s suspicious, tell me,” I say.

One of them grins. “She was staring.”

“No she wasn’t.”

“She was.”

“Like—impressed,” another adds.

“Very impressed.”

I lie back on my bunk. “You’re all liars.”

“We’re not.”

“You are.”

But my stomach does something weird anyway.

Which is annoying.

Free time, I’m back on the dock again.

I’m sitting cross-legged this time, re-braiding my hair, when someone drops down beside me.

Kallie.

“Okay,” she says. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That.”

I don’t look up. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“The skiing. The attitude. The whole… thing.”

I shrug. “I’m good.”

“You’re better than good.”

“I know.”

She snorts. “Confidence is crazy.”

“Thank you.”

Kallie nudges me. “She likes that.”

I pause.

“…who?”

She just looks at me.

I roll my eyes. “You’re all the same.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Mm.”

I go back to my braid. “Mind your business.”

“This is my business.”

“How?”

“I’m invested now.”

“Why?”

“Because Quinn never looks at anyone like that.”

I still, just for a second. Then keep braiding.

“Like what?” I ask, trying to sound normal.

Kallie grins. “Exactly.”

That night is another big game.

Teams this time. The teams you get assigned the second you step into camp for the first time. Team Indigo, Team Scarlet, Team Gold.

I’m on Scarlet.

Quinn’s on Indigo.

Of course.

“Don’t go easy on me,” I call across the field.

She glances over.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

A small smirk.

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

The game is chaotic.

Running, yelling, strategy that falls apart immediately.

At one point, I nearly collide with Quinn again—

but this time I dodge last second, laughing. “Too slow.”

“Careful,” she shoots back. “Confidence.”

“Earned,” I remind her.

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling.

Actually smiling.

More than before.

It hits me then—

She’s different now.

Not completely.

Still bossy, still sharp.

But—

Looser, with me.

And I don’t know when that happened.

Later, when everything settles down, I’m sitting on the dock alone again.

Just for a minute, just to breathe.

Footsteps.

Of course.

“You’re not subtle,” I say.

“Neither are you.”

I glance up.

Quinn sits down beside me this time.

Closer than usual.

Our shoulders almost touch.

“You showed off today,” she says.

“Obviously.”

“For me?”

I turn my head.

She’s already looking at me.

That edge is still there.

But there’s something else under it now.

Something warmer, and more playful.

“Maybe,” I say.

A beat, then—

“Worth it?”

I smile slightly. “Yeah.”S

She nods once.

“Good.”

We sit there for a second.

Quiet, comfortable, but charged.

“Don’t get cocky,” she adds.

“Too late.”

She nudges me again, shoulder to shoulder this time.

“Shut up, Kennedy.”

I laugh softly.

That night, lying in bed—

I don’t even try to deny it.

Something shifted today.

Not huge, or obvious, but enough.

Enough that it feels different, that I noticed.

And she did too.

And the worst part?

I think we’re both leaning into it.

Just a little.