Chapter 6

There’s something about water at camp. Everything happens there.

Good decisions. Bad decisions. And the kind you don’t realize are decisions until later.

“Again.”

I groan, already waist-deep in the lake. “You’ve said that six times.”

“Seven,” Quinn corrects.

“It’s been seven? That feels excessive.”

“Your form is.”

I glare at her. “You’re actually the worst.”

She’s standing on the dock, arms crossed, sunglasses on, in a relaxed tank top, looking completely unbothered by my suffering.

“Fix it,” she says.

“Or what?”

She tilts her head slightly, winks, and then—

She just steps off the dock.

Straight into the water.

Fully clothed.

I blink.

“You’re kidding.”

She surfaces, pushing her hair back, immediately soaked.

“Nope.”

“That was unnecessary.”

“So is your attitude.”

I laugh despite myself. “You’re insane.”

“Reset,” she says, moving closer. “One more time.”

“You always say that.”

“And I’m always right.”

“Debatable.”

But I reset anyway.

Because that’s the thing, I always do.

By now, the CIT’s are off doing timed swims, which means for once, it’s quiet.

Just us. Again.

“Stride jump,” Quinn says.

I do it.

Clean. Controlled.

I come up, already talking. “If you say ‘again,’ I’m leaving.”

She doesn’t say anything right away.

Just watches me.

Really watches me.

And then—

“That was good.”

I pause.

“…what?”

“Good,” she repeat.

I narrow my eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Don’t ruin it.”

“I’m just surprised.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I am.”

She rolls her eyes slightly, but there’s no bite to it.

That’s new.

I swim closer to the dock, resting my arms on the edge. “So you can be nice.”

She comes beside me “Rarely.”

“I’ll take it.”

There’s a beat. Then—

“You’ve improved.”

It’s quiet, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Something in my chest shifts slightly. I cover it fast.

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”

She huffs. “Of course you do.”

Breakfast is loud, as usual.

I drop into my seat next to Annabelle.

“I think Quinn likes me today.”

She chokes on her drink. “Today?”

“She complimented me.”

“Holy—what did you do?”

“I was just naturally talented.”

“Shocking.”

Emily leans over. “Or maybe she’s softening.”

“Don’t say that,” I say immediately.

“Why?”

“Because, then it becomes a thing.”

“It is a thing,” Caitlyn says.

“It’s not.”

They all just look at me.

I take a bite of my food. “Stop looking at me.”

Activity period one: canoeing.

Which means mayhem.

“Left side—LEFT—no your other left—okay we’re spinning, we’re spinning—”

I’m in the back of a canoe with two campers who have completely given up on listening to directions.

“Just let it happen,” one of them says.

“No,” I say. “We fight.”

“We’re losing.”

“We fight anyway.”

From another canoe, Tanner yells, “You good over there?”

“No,” I yell back.

“Looks like it.”

“Help us.”

He laughs and paddles away.

Traitor.

By the time we hit waterfront again, I’m soaked, tired, and one inconvenience away from dramatic collapse.

“Rough canoe session?” Milo asks, tossing me a water bottle.

“I’m being tested.”

“By?”

“Children. Nature. Authority figures.”

He grins. “Quinn?”

I don’t even respond.

That’s answer enough.

Waterski rotation is packed today.

I’m back on dock, calling names, organizing gear, trying to keep things moving.

“Next—Maya, you’re up.”

She hesitates. “I’m nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” I say. “Just listen to instructions.”

She nods, still unsure.

I crouch slightly so we’re eye level. “Hey. You trust me?”

“…yeah.”

“Then go. I’ve got you.”

She smiles a little and heads toward the boat.

I stand up—

And catch Quinn watching me again from the driver’s seat, with the same look as last night.

Not teasing, not sharp, just—

Looking.

I look away first, again.

Later, I switch back into spotter, which is becoming a pattern.

“You like being in control, huh?” I say, stepping into the boat.

“Someone has to be.”

“I’m very capable.”

“Mm.”

I sit down, grabbing the rope. “You don’t trust me.”

“I trust you enough.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It’s accurate.”

I glance at her. “You’re impossible.”

She smirk slightly. “And yet.”

“And yet what?”

She hesitates, then doesn’t answer.

Just starts the engine and starts driving.

Coward.

Halfway through, the lake goes quiet for a second.

No wind, no yelling, just the hum of the boat idling.

We’re waiting for the next camper to get set.

I lean back slightly, stretching.

“Why do you always pick me for mornings?” I ask.

It slips out, I didn’t mean to say it like that.

Quinn doesn’t look at me right away.

She just keeps her eyes on the water.

“You’re good,” she say finally.

“That’s not the reason.”

A pause. Then—

“You keep up.”

I tilt my head. “Other people can keep up.”

“Not like you.”

That—

That lands differently.

I look at her, she’s still not looking at me.

Which somehow makes it worse.

“Okay,” I say lightly. “So I’m your favorite.”

She glances over.

Slow, measured.

“Don’t push it.”

I grin. “I’m going to push it.”

“I know.”

Free time turns into dock time, of course.

Me, Annabelle, Emily, Caitlyn, Milo, Tanner—half the staff just sitting around, feet in the water, talking over each other.

“Okay but if you had to fight one—” Tanner starts.

“No,” Emily says immediately.

“Hear me out.”

“No.”

“Bear or—”

“NO.”

We’re all laughing when someone shoves Jayden into the water.

He comes up yelling. “WHO WAS THAT—”

“Natural causes,” Caitlyn says.

“YOU’RE ALL DEAD.”

He lunges toward the dock.

Madness.

I’m laughing, leaning back on my hands—

When I feel it, that shift.

I glance up.

Quinn.

Standing a little further back, near the trees.

Watching, not joining.

Just—there.

Kallie says something to her.

She responds.

But her eyes flick back to us, to me specifically, again.

It’s quick, subtle.

But I catch it this time, and I don’t look away.

Neither does she.

And for a second—

Everything else fades a bit.

Then Milo splashes water at me.

I break eye contact, shoving him back. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Debatable.”

Dinner’s louder than usual.

People are tired.

Which somehow makes everything funnier.

Marty stands up again at one point. “If you all survive week one, I’ll personally be impressed.”

“WE WILL,” someone yells.

“WE BETTER,” someone else adds.

I glance across the table.

Quinn’s mid-conversation with Kallie, animated in a way I haven’t seen much yet.

More relaxed, laughing easier.

It suits her, annoyingly.

She catches me looking.

Pause. Then—

That small, knowing grin.

Like she’s aware of something I’m not fully admitting yet.

I look down at my food.

Because I don’t like that.

That night is quieter.

No big game.

Just smaller group stuff.

I end up walking back from the waterfront alone, a little later than usual.

The path is dim, lit just enough to see.

I hear footsteps behind me.

I don’t turn.

“Stalking me now?” I say.

“Part of my job.”

I glance back.

Quinn.

“You say that about everything.”

“It applies to everything.”

“Convenient.”

She falls into step beside me.

Not close. Not far.

“You did good today,” she says.

“Again with this?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I’m starting to think you mean it.”

“Sometimes.”

I smile slightly. “Wow. Growth.”

She nudges my shoulder lightly.

It’s small, barely anything.

But it’s the first time she’s touched me like that without a reason.

Not training, not a game, just—

That.

“Don’t ruin it,” she says.

“I’m not,” I reply.

But my voice is a little softer than usual.

We reach the split in the path—cabins one way, staff the other.

We both slow slightly.

“See you tomorrow,” I say.

“6:40.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I know.”

I start to walk away—

“Hey.”

I turn back.

Quinn’s watching me.

Something unreadable in her expression.

“Don’t be late.”

I grin. “You’re obsessed.”

“Go to bed, Kennedy.”

I laugh under my breath and turn again.

But this time—

I can feel it, clearer than before.

Whatever this is—

It’s not just tension anymore, not proximity, it’s something building.

Something steady, that’s going to take its time.

And for some reason—

I’m not trying to stop it.