“Kate, Brad, no talking.”

I forgot.

Megan has this new ridiculous rule that counselors aren’t allowed to talk to each other while campers are in the pool. It makes sense that she’d want us to keep an eye on them, but (1) we have a lifeguard; (2) this rule doesn’t apply when campers are canoeing or kayaking, even though the last time I checked, lakes, creeks, and pools all have water; and (3) the only reason she made this rule is so kids won’t go home and tell their parents that us counselors spend time socializing.

It’s like a gestapo up in here.

But it is pretty cool that Megan got Brad this job. I wish she’d show off more of her good side here, but I guess she can’t let her guard down.

I wade off through the water to grab a seat on the pool steps with Claire and Sophie.

Claire asks, “Are Parker and Will dating?”

Parker and Will aren’t allowed to talk to each other during pool time, so they are settling for staring across the shallow end and waving at each other.

“Yep,” I reply.

“Aww,” Claire says quietly. Then she and Sophie whisper to each other.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Sophie asks me.

“Nope.”

“How old are you?” Claire says.

“Eighteen.”

“And you don’t have a boyfriend?” Sophie asks.

I groan quietly under my breath. “I don’t.”

“But you’re eighteen!” Sophie says.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean I have a boyfriend.”

Sophie and Claire whisper some more.

“Do you like anybody?” Sophie asks.

I splash water on my arms and neck, not allowing myself to gaze over at the lifeguard stand where Matt is holding a flotation device that resembles a giant hot dog. “Not right now.”

Sophie and Claire roll their eyes at each other.

During the last three minutes of night swim, Megan allows the counselors to jump in the pool together while the campers dry off and put their sneakers back on.

Matt does a cannonball off the lifeguard stand, making a huge splash, making all the campers cheer and squeal. I stand on the edge of the pool, watching for him to emerge from underwater. I always worry people are going to crack their heads open on the concrete bottom. When he doesn’t come up in the deep end, I flex my fingers, feeling panicky. Should I dive in after him?

That’s when his head pops up right beside my feet.

“Ahh!” I scream, hopping.

He grabs the side of the pool and stares up at me, beaming. The campers are cracking up.

“Good one, King!” Taj yells.

“You scared me!” I say.

Matt shakes the water out of his dirty blond hair, which looks black under the night sky. The pool lights illuminate his glistening blue eyes. He lowers his face to focus on my ankle.

“I like this,” he says, gently touching my ankle bracelet. Blue beads are threaded through the hemp.

“Thanks, I made it.”

He glances up at me, wipes water off his face and focuses on the bracelet again. “Make me one?”

I touch my cheek, trying to hold back my grin. “Sure.”

His fingers lightly graze my ankle, tickling my skin. I imagine him tracing my leg, dragging his fingers up and down. I breathe deeply, as shivers race along my spine.

“What color beads do you want?” I add, my voice shaking.

“Surprise me,” he says, then yanks me into the pool. I crash into the water and fight my way to the surface, gasping for breath. Come up for air and hear the squeals and laughter from the kids.

“I can’t believe you,” I say, splashing water at Matt. I chase him over to the shallow end, much to the delight of the little girls. They laugh and yell, “Get him, Queen Kate!”

“Matt and Kate!” I hear Sophie squeal to Claire.

“Kate.” Megan blows her whistle. “Counselor swim is over. Let’s go. Get your campers ready.”

I stop chasing Matt and stand up to my full height. Claire and Sophie look from me to Megan and back to me again. I squeeze the water out of my ponytail, embarrassed that she called me out like that in front of everybody. How will any of the campers respect me if my boss doesn’t? I get that I don’t know much about the outdoors or camping, but really?

Does she really think being hard on us will help her get that big education job?

Megan blows her whistle again.

“The Queen? Seriously?” I hear Andrea saying to Carlie.

I turn to walk up the steps and Matt comes toward me, scanning my bathing suit. No boy has ever looked at me this way. His eyes pause briefly at my stomach and chest. If I had one word to describe it?

Sinful.

But I don’t want him to stop. I want him to drink me in as long as he wants.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, stopping next to me. He lightly touches my elbow. “Your knee?” he asks again. “Did I hurt you?”

My elbow tingles. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Can I stop by your cookout pit later? By your cabin? I’ll play that song I owe you.”

I scoop my towel off the deck and cover my grin with it, not looking at his face.

“Is it okay for you to leave your cabin when the kids are asleep?” I whisper.

He smiles. “I’ll still be able to hear them. It’s only two cabins away. Besides, Andrea and Carlie go smoke by the lake every single night. And don’t even get me started on what Carlie and Ian do behind the cafeteria sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“So how about it?” he asks quietly.

“Midnight?” I dry my hair with a towel, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Perfect,” he says. He smiles, then goes into the pool maintenance closet.

I walk back to our group and Brad shakes his head at me and grins. “King Matt and Queen Kate, eh? Can’t say I’m surprised you’re already married—”

I swat at him with my towel, and he hops away, laughing.

Megan’s giving me a look, but I don’t care.

Matt wants to share music with me.

“Can you keep an eye on my cabin tonight?” I whisper to Brad. “At about midnight?”

He smirks. “You meeting up with Matt?”

I suck in a deep breath. My hands feel sweaty. “Yeah.”

“You guys are together now?” He throws his towel over his shoulder and we start leading our campers back toward the Cardinal cabins, where we’ll make s’mores.

“No,” I whisper back. Sophie is right on my heels, trying to listen in.

“I think he likes you,” Brad goes on.

I shake my head quickly. “Impossible. Andrea likes him.”

Brad glances over at me and smirks again. “If he wanted that, he could’ve had her a thousand times by now.”

“Maybe…”

“Trust me,” Brad says quietly. “You’ve got all the power here.”

I burst out laughing. I haven’t felt powerful since soccer season.

“So you like him?” he asks, smiling.

After a few moments, I nod.

“Good for you.” He smacks my shoulder with his towel.

It’s almost like he’s becoming a guy friend.

The night is cool, the girls are asleep, and all I can hear are the whirring box fan and chirping crickets.

I watch the clock tick down. 11:00 p.m. 11:21 p.m. 11:36 p.m. It’s nearly midnight, and midnight means Matt.

I’m wearing short plaid pajama shorts and a fitted white T-shirt, something more revealing than I’d normally wear, because I want to show Matt that I can be cute like Andrea. I can act like a girl who wants a boyfriend. I have no idea what he does outside of camp, whether he sleeps around or smokes weed or drinks or what, but here he’s sweet and funny and loves music and makes all the kids laugh.

And I want to know that Matt. I pray that Matt is the real Matt.

At 11:58 p.m. I step out of my cabin and tiptoe down the path to my picnic area, where he’s already got a small fire crackling. He’s sitting on top of the picnic table, barefoot (of course), strumming away at his guitar. With my heart pounding like mad, I take a seat next to him and listen to the soft crooning of the guitar.

He smiles and focuses on his fingers moving swiftly on the strings. He plays the tune over and over again, and I hum along. He softly works lyrics:

I know you can see, out of those pale green eyes.

He stops. Tunes his guitar. Tries out a few more notes. Sings more words.

But maybe you’ve seen too much, ’cause you’re hiding behind that disguise. I shouldn’t talk, ’cause I’m hiding too. So how can we meet? How can I find you? Will I see you on any other day but Christmas?

“That was insanely pretty,” I say when he finishes, hoping the green eyes in the song are the same shade of green as mine. He scoots closer to me. Our hips touch. If not for the chirping crickets, I bet I could hear our hearts. I stretch my legs out and lean back on my hands. Our silence hangs on the warm air, but it’s comfortable with him in the quiet.

“I’d better get to sleep,” he says with a yawn.

“Me too.”

He climbs off the picnic table and holds out a hand to help me up. His fingers are warm and I find myself wanting to run a thumb over his knuckles. But I let go.

Moonlight guiding us, Matt walks me back along the dirt path to my cabin. Once I’m safely back on my porch, he says, “That was fun. See you tomorrow.”

He smiles, waves, and walks away with his guitar slung over his back. I don’t know what I was expecting. A hug? A kiss on the cheek? Something?

Was it nothing?

But if it was nothing, why won’t my heart stop racing?

I climb into bed, cuddle up under the covers, and imagine his fingers touching my ankle. My body tingles again, like it did at the pool. Heat rushes between my legs. My breathing gallops away from me. I want to touch myself. I roll over and clutch my pillow, praying for relief but also not wanting the feeling to go away.

My camper Claire and I are DJing the Thursday Night Dance. Claire’s best friend, Sophie, has already danced with a couple of guys from our group.

It’s less than a day until I get to go home for the weekend. On Sunday, I’m going to take Emily half of my paycheck, to see if she needs it. Unless I lose my courage. Thinking of seeing her makes me feel cold all over.

Claire picks out songs on iTunes, clicking away on my computer. I never really went to school dances in middle school and high school because Brother John railed against secular music all the time. I didn’t even go to senior prom.

“Claire, are you about to start your first year of middle school?” I ask.

“Yep,” she says. The computer screen casts a blue glow on her face.

“Will you go to dances this year?”

She shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe I’ll go if they let me DJ.”

I missed out on a lot because I was scared other kids would be drinking or doing drugs or having sex, and I didn’t want to be around that.

And because no boys ever invited me.

“No one would ask me to dance,” Claire mumbles, echoing my thoughts. She clicks around on iTunes.

I sip my lemonade. “That’s not true. You’re really kind and pretty.”