“I don’t know. I lost my way.” Irritation pierced her anxiety. She glared at him. “Why are you snapping at me? Do you think I’d come here and stare off the side of that bluff on purpose?”
She saw his shadowed gaze flicker from the path she’d taken to the drop off the bluff. “No, I suppose not,” he said slowly after a pause. What was that she read on his rigid features? Trepidation? Caution? No . . . it wasn’t that. The gate had slammed down on his expression. It was the expression he’d get occasionally when he was keeping something from her. Wasn’t it?
Maybe it was, Alice wasn’t sure. She felt confused. All she wanted at that moment was to get away from the edge of that treacherous bluff. Her fear made her irrational, in more ways than one.
“Well, I know not,” she corrected heatedly. Her skin was prickling and she felt nauseated. “Can we please go inside?”
She broke from his arms and stalked toward the long yard that led toward the house. After she’d gone twenty feet or so, he halted her by grabbing her hand. She looked back at him.
“I know how scared you are about heights. I was shocked to see you standing there. It looked like every ounce of blood had left your head when you turned around. It just . . . alarmed me.”
“Well, it alarmed me, too!”
He closed his eyes briefly. His skin had darkened this afternoon. With the sun behind him, his face looked shadowed and enigmatic to her stunned brain.
“I know,” he said, opening his eyes. This time, she read the concern in his expression perfectly. “I’ll ask you again, are you okay?”
She nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“I think I drank too much wine,” she mumbled. “I was feeling kind of dizzy and I took the wrong path and then . . .” She waved feebly in the direction of the fence and the edge of the bluff.
“And then I snapped at you,” Dylan finished, his mouth slanted. “I’m sorry.”
Their gazes had met and held. A silent peace was made. He stepped closer and put his arm around her shoulder.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
THE jarring incident was soon forgotten. Alice had never been so reluctant to leave the peaceful haven of the castle and the heaven of Dylan’s arms as she was that Monday morning. She’d have gladly curled up in bed with him for many days to come, basking in the newness and sensual delight of their mutually acknowledged love. It was difficult to pull herself out of her daydreams and resume her routine at camp. Although something did happen at breakfast that certainly sent a jolt of reality and euphoria through her.
She was standing alone at the coffee station, waiting for the pot to finish brewing and praying for an extra-strong pot. Someone spoke behind her.
“How is it that you always manage to come out on top?”
Alice spun around at the sound of the quiet, bitter voice. Brooke stood there, looking glamorous and beautiful, despite her casual camp attire. Brooke Seifert was the only person Alice knew who could do her hair and put makeup on for a hot summer day filled with rigorous activity, and still look disgustingly gorgeous and put together at the end of it all.
“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” Alice mumbled, staring at the coffeepot with quiet desperation. She hadn’t even had caffeine yet. How was she supposed to deal with Brooke?
Despite the fact that she’d told Thad she’d try to get to know Brooke better and give her the benefit of the doubt, she hadn’t really lived up to her promise. It’d just been easier to stay away from both Brooke and Thad for the past few days, although the avoidance hurt much more in Thad’s case than in Brooke’s.
She did a double take when Brooke shoved her cell phone in front of Alice’s face. Startled, she stared at the image on the screen.
“You haven’t seen it yet?” Brooke demanded quietly, obviously recognizing Alice’s shock. “All the managers are crowing about it, although Kehoe doesn’t seem too pleased,” she added with bitter triumph. Her victory was short lived. An uncertain, sullen expression came over Brooke’s face. “I suppose you put them up to it?”
Alice laughed abruptly. She grabbed Brooke’s phone, peering closer at the photo. “Oh my God. That’s awesome.”
Dave came up behind them, grinning. “Is this your first time seeing it? Everyone is talking about it. They sent out texts with the photo this morning. They somehow got most of the managers’ phone numbers, plus most of the counselors’. At least one kid on every team got one, too, so the photos are flying around with the speed of light. Hilarious. Nice one, Alice.”
Someone called out to Dave, and he walked away.
“There’s more. Next photo,” Brooke said through a tight mouth.
Alice took another long look at the first before moving to the next, however. The photo was of an iron goat perched on a stone pedestal—obviously Camp Wildwood’s legendary Bang. The area behind it was dark and empty. It was clearly the dead of night. Around Bang’s neck was tied the Red Team’s iconic flag. The goat was wearing sunglasses that Alice immediately recognized as Judith’s knock-off Cartiers. Beneath it, three hands held up in the V for victory sign: one large, light brown, clearly masculine, another feminine, paler with long manicured nails, the last small and delicate. Alice suspected she knew to whom all the hands belonged.
Alice swiped her finger on the screen. Her grin widened. This was priceless. Now the common area around Bang was filled with people. The photo showed Noble D, Jill Sanchez, and Judith surrounded by several other teenagers and adults, most of them wearing sweatpants, shorts, T-shirts, and pajamas. They were strangers to Alice. This must be the Camp Wildwood staff and kids. D and Judith appeared to be passing around pizza boxes, Jill handing out cans of soda. The girl’s mouth was open as though she was talking, and she was grinning.
Jill? Talking to strangers with what looked like genuine enthusiasm?
The caption underneath the photo read: How to make trouble and friends at once, Camp Durand-style.