Chapter 11

The camp bus smells like a mix of sunscreen, sweat, and snacks. 

I sit squeezed between Annabelle and Emily, backpack jammed on my lap, earbuds in, pretending I’m not vibrating with anticipation. The weekend outtrip is basically legendary: bonfire on the beach, snacks, music, and most importantly—a whole night of staff and camper chaos.

“Are you seriously still listening to that?” Emily says, peeking at my phone.

“Shhh,” I whisper. “Focus. It’s my… pre-outtrip hype music.”

Annabelle groans. “You’re ridiculous.”

I grin, unbothered. “I’m aware. That’s why you love me.”

“Stop,” she says, rolling her eyes, but I catch her smile anyway.

Across the aisle, Kallie’s elbow keeps nudging me.

“You ready for Quinn?” she asks, smirking.

“Of course,” I reply automatically. “I’m totally fine.”

Kallie raises an eyebrow. “Right.”

I glare at her. “I’m fine. Completely.”

By the time we hit the beach, the sky is just beginning to bleed pink and orange. Campers scatter immediately toward the sand, squealing, digging, and forming “teams” for random beach games. Staff are everywhere, supervising, organizing, laughing.

And there she is.

Quinn.

Short curls damp from the lake earlier, hoodie shoved halfway in her backpack, sneakers dusty with sand. She’s talking to Kallie but glance at me as I walk past, her smirk teasing me like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Barely.

We’re assigned tents and cabin groups first. I’m with my usual campers, getting everyone settled, unpacked, and (somehow) keeping them from immediately running into the water. Annabelle and Emily float nearby. Quinn is doing her rounds, checking in on the campers, issuing orders here and there—but noticeably looser than usual. Laughing more, teasing Kallie, tossing campers into the water for fun.

I catch a glimpse of her mid-throw. She’s grinning like a little kid. My stomach flips. That’s new.

After tents are set, staff meeting to divvy up responsibilities. I sit cross-legged on the sand, listening half-heartedly while thinking about the bonfire later.

“You’re going to be in charge of the kayak races, Kennedy,” the camp director says, grinning.

“Of course,” I reply. “Naturally.”

Quinn is nodding, watching me, smirk barely hidden. “Try not to drown anyone,” she calls lightly.

“I’m the lifeguard,” I retort. “You’re the one throwing campers in the water.”

She laughs. “That’s different.”

“Of course it is.”

Free time before dinner is crazy.

Campers are running everywhere. Volleyball, beach soccer, chasing each other. I’m racing Annabelle, Emily, and Caitlyn along the waterline when I feel it again—a presence at my side.

Quinn.

“Thought you might need some competition,” she says, smirk wide.

“Please,” I scoff. “I could beat you blindfolded.”

“Then prove it,” she challenges.

And suddenly we’re sprinting along the shore. Me, her. Bare feet in wet sand. Shouting. Laughing. Campers cheering from the sidelines.

I almost trip on a wave. Quinn catches my arm just in time.

“Careful,” she says.

“I got it,” I tease, tugging my arm back playfully.

“Nope. I said careful.”

We collide in laughter, sand flying, the energy electric.

Later, the bonfire.

Campers sitting in a semi-circle, marshmallows roasting. Music playing softly from a portable speaker. Staff scattered nearby, chatting, teasing each other. I’m sitting next to Annabelle, roasting a marshmallow carefully, as my campers squeal over a slightly burnt one.

And Quinn sits beside me. Not across the fire, not commanding, not bossy—just… there.

“You roasted it wrong,” I tell one of my campers, glaring in mock horror.

Quinn smirks. “Yeah, leave it to Kennedy to obsess.”

I glance at her. “Obsessed? Me? Never.”

“Mhm,” she says, grin widening. Shoulder brushes mine lightly. Accidental? Maybe.

I ignore it. Barely.

Later, music cranks. Staff initiate a mini dance battle. Of course.

Quinn pulls Kallie in first. I’m grinning because that means it’s time. I drag Annabelle into the middle of the circle. The battle begins.

I spot Quinn watching. Really watching. Smirking. Shaking her head like she can’t believe how ridiculous I am. I throw a spin, some flashy footwork. Laughter, cheering. Quinn laughs too—this time, genuinely, completely relaxed.

Then she calls me over.

“Your turn,” she says, hands on hips.

“Excuse me?”

“You. Come. Dance.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

Theres sand flying, music blaring, Quinn teasing, nudging, catching my eye every few seconds. We’re close. Too close. Shoulders brushing. Feet tangled in the sand.

She laughs. I laugh. And I might lean in a second too long.

“Stop showing off,” she teases, voice low.

“Never,” I reply, smirk flashing.

She shakes her head, but I catch the small grin.

By the end of the night, everyone’s exhausted, sand everywhere, marshmallows mostly melted on fingers. Campers finally corralled into tents.

Quinn and I walk a little apart from everyone, to the edge of the beach. Stars above. Waves whispering. Just quiet enough to breathe.

“You’re something else,” she says quietly.

“I know,” I reply, grinning.

She nudges me shoulder to shoulder, just slightly. “Careful,” she whispers.

“I’m fine,” I say, heart thumping.

For a long moment, we just stand there. Close. Comfortable. Electric.

And I know…

This is going somewhere. Slowly.

But the weekend just started, and whatever happens… it’s going to be so worth it.