Chapter 10

The morning sun hits like a spotlight. I roll out of bed, still a little stiff from yesterday, hair tangled, and somehow my feet already aching from running after campers.

All my campers are already buzzing in the cabin.

“Beach party!” Annabelle squeals.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, dragging on a hoodie. “I just hope Quinn doesn’t try to make things complicated.”

Emily snorts. “Oh, she will. And you’re going to love it.”

I glare. “I will not.”

“Sure,” Caitlyn says, rolling her eyes.

Breakfast is a mess of sunscreen, hair spray, and noise. Everyone’s talking about swimsuits, towels, and who’s bringing what. Across the hall, I spot Quinn casually leaning against a post, oversized t-shirt, short curls messy, sunglasses low. Team Indigo looks like a mini army around her.

She catches my eye, smirks slightly, and goes back to laughing with Kallie. She’s lighter today—looser. Fun. Less bossy, more mischievous.

I glare at her. Not hard. Just… plotting.

The walk to the beach is a parade of campers and staff. Music blasting, shoes squishing in the sand. I’m with my cabin, of course, keeping order… mostly.

“Can we run?” one of my campers asks.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Just a little?”

I groan. “Go ahead, I’ll pretend not to see it.”

They scatter. I shake my head, laughing. Annabelle slides up.

“You’re going to get sand everywhere,” she whispers.

“Obvious,” I mutter.

By the water, the campers take over.

Boats, floats, volleyball, swimming races, random cannonballs.

And then I see Quinn. Of course. Driving a boat, perfectly in control, but laughing at someone who wiped out spectacularly. Kallie’s yelling from the dock. She glances over, sees me, then grins.

I smirk back. Challenge accepted.

I grab a ski and stride into the water. Flat, smooth. I’m ready.

“Go easy on me,” Quinn calls from the boat.

I laugh. “Never.”

The line tenses. I pop up, gliding across the water like I was born for this. Spray flying. Sun on my face. Heart racing. And yes—I make sure to do a few extra twists, little flashes of skill I know Quinn will notice.

Because she is noticing.

I can see it in the corner of my eye when I cut a sharp turn, smooth, perfect form. That tiny shift in her expression—the lift of an eyebrow, the curl of a smile.

After a few laps, Quinn finally lets me dock for a second. I step off, dripping, chest heaving.

“You’re insane,” she says. Half-laughing, half-serious.

“Thank you,” I reply, letting my hair drip water on her hoodie.

She narrows her eyes. “You do that on purpose.”

“Of course. It’s called strategy.”

“Yeah, well—it’s effective.”

Free time is crazy, beach edition. Campers are forming sand castles, volleyball games breaking out, music blasting. I’m walking along the shore with Annabelle and Emily when I feel it—a familiar presence.

Quinn.

This time, no clipboard. No bossy edge. Just… walking alongside me. Slight grin. Short curls wet from the lake. Hands shoved in pockets.

“You’re showing off again,” I say, smirking.

“Only because it’s fun,” she replies. “And because you’re worth watching.”

I nearly choke. “What?”

She shrugs. “You heard me.”

I roll my eyes but my heart flips anyway. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet… here I am.”

Later, staff organize a beach volleyball game. Team Scarlet versus Team Indigo.

I spike a ball perfectly.

Quinn smirks, dives, and saves it. She glares at me with that sharp, bossy focus that’s only slightly diluted by amusement.

“You’re good,” she says mid-game.

“I know,” I reply, grinning.

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late.”

We both laugh, the tension building and relaxing all at once. Flirty, fun, dangerous.

As the sun sets, everyone gathers for a bonfire on the sand. I’m sitting with my cabin when Quinn plops down beside me.

“No one sits next to me,” I murmur.

She grins. “Noted.”

We talk about nothing and everything. Laughter, teasing, small nudges. The playful, flirty side of Quinn comes out more here, and I can’t help but tease back.

At one point, she nudges, me shoulder to shoulder. I barely react.

“Careful,” she whispers.

“I’m fine,” I reply, smiling.

We watch the fire. Waves lap softly. Stars above.

And for a moment, it’s just… us.

And I like it.