Stacey’s POV
Here’s the thing about summer camp: it sounds like a good idea until you’re actually there.
The bus ride was bad enough—four hours crammed between a kid who kept sneezing without covering his mouth and some girl blasting music through headphones so loud I could hear every word. But stepping off that bus into the middle of nowhere? That’s when it really hit me.
This was going to be hell.
The air smelled like dirt and bug spray, and the “cabins” looked like something out of a horror movie. No air conditioning, no Wi-Fi, and apparently, no decent food, either. Dinner that first night was some kind of casserole that looked like it had already been eaten once.
To top it all off, the mosquitoes here are like something out of a science experiment. I slapped my arm for the tenth time in two minutes, glaring at the welt forming on my skin.
“You know,” Marcus said, leaning against the cabin wall with that stupid smirk of his, “if you slap yourself hard enough, you might scare them away.”
“Do you have a death wish?” I snapped, reaching into my bag for the bug spray.
He held up his hands in mock surrender, his smirk widening. “Just trying to help.”
“If you want to help, go find me something that actually works against these things,” I muttered, spraying myself like my life depended on it.
Marcus tilted his head, studying me for a second before pulling a small bottle out of his pocket.
“Here,” he said, tossing it to me. “It’s lotion. Keeps the bugs off better than that spray.”
I caught it, frowning. “Why do you have this?”
“Because I’m not an idiot,” he said, turning to walk away.
I stared after him, half-annoyed and half-impressed.
***
The next morning started with a scavenger hunt, because apparently, camp isn’t complete without some pointless competition. We were split into teams, and of course, Marcus and I got paired together.
“Great,” I muttered as the counselor handed us our first clue. “Just what I needed.”
“Oh, come on,” Marcus said, reading over my shoulder. “You know you’re thrilled.”
I ignored him, focusing on the clue: Find the spot where the sun meets the trees.
“Sounds like the clearing,” I said, already heading in that direction.
Marcus followed, his long strides easily keeping pace with mine.
“You’re really taking this seriously,” he said, sounding amused.
“Some of us have grades to save,” I shot back.
His smirk faded slightly at that, but he didn’t say anything.
By the time we reached the clearing, we were neck-and-neck with another team, and I was starting to think we might actually win this thing.
But then I saw her.
Monica.
She was standing by the tree with the next clue, wearing that fake smile she always used when she wanted something.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I meant it to be.
Monica’s smile didn’t falter. “Stacey. I’m volunteering. Here’s your clue.”
She held out the piece of paper, but I didn’t take it.
Instead, I grabbed it and threw it back at her. “Go to hell.”
“Stacey!” Marcus said, stepping between us. “What’s wrong with you?”
I turned on him, my hands clenched into fists. “You don’t know who she is.”
“Then tell me,” he said, his voice calm but firm.
I looked away, my throat tightening. “She’s the reason my dad left. That bitch is the reason my mom and I—”
My voice cracked, and I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Marcus didn’t say anything, but his expression softened in a way that made my chest ache.
“Come on,” he said quietly, his hand brushing my arm. “Let’s go.”
By the end of the day, I was exhausted—physically, emotionally, all of it. But I couldn’t shake the way Monica had looked at me, like she was waiting for me to break.
I won’t give her the satisfaction.