Camp Sutton Pt. 07

The music of our bodies reached a crescendo. She plucked chords from me that I didn't know existed and they hung in the air between us. The orgasm that swept through me was my strongest yet with Olive, maybe my strongest ever. It started with a single note but quickly became a symphony with sweeping cellos and a whole brass band.

At the end of it, my body spent, I fell forward onto my stomach, slipping off the cock, and breathed hard and fast. As if on cue, there was a pounding on Olive's door. The sound snatched us both out of our post-sex haze. My mind raced. Had we been too loud? What if it was her mother? What if I got fired?

I hissed, "Who the fuck is that?"

"How should I know?" She replied, yanking on pajamas and tossing the strap under her bed. "I'll get it; you go in the bathroom."

I popped out of bed, grabbed my discarded clothes from the floor, and hopped into the bathroom while Olive smoothed out her rumpled clothes. She opened up the door halfway.

Jackie's frantic voice pierced through. "Have you seen Maisie? Her campers snuck out and I can't find them."

My heart welled up with guilt that filled up the rest of my body. Fuck.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Lost and Found

Jackie averted her eyes while I yanked on my clothes. I practically sprinted with her out of Olive's, forgetting to say goodbye, and ran to my own cabin. I checked on the girls who were still in the cabin, all of them sitting awake with bleary eyes now. As I laced up my sneakers and pulled my hair back, I asked, "You all have any idea where they might've gone?"

Three preteen heads shook 'no.' They were lying, of course, based on their wide eyes and guilty expressions, but that wasn't important for now. The lecture could wait until the rest of the girls were back safely. I rummaged around and was relieved that they must've brought their flashlights and worn their warm clothes at the very least. So they probably wouldn't be dead from hypothermia when I got fired, which was good.

I sucked in a deep breath and looked at the remaining girls. "If you know where they went, I really need you to tell me. They don't need to know that you told. How bad will you feel if they get hurt or lost?"

I waited with my arms crossed for three seconds. The girl in the middle -- Isabella -- cracked; she sniffled, looked down at the floor, and said, "They're breaking into the pool."

Under my breath, I muttered, "Jesus fucking Christ." I told them, "All of you are going to go wait in cabin eleven and Miss Jackie is going to watch you until I get back, okay?"

They nodded sleepily and slipped on sandals. I marched them over to Jackie's cabin and told her, "I have to go get Olive. I need the goddamn pool fence keys."

"Oh, god," Jackie replied, her face gaunt. "Emma doesn't even know how to swim, does she?"

"Don't remind me. I'm really sorry, Jacks."

Jackie hissed, "You're lucky I didn't wake up Mary first."

"I know. I'm sorry."

I stammered out a few more apologies -- and I meant them completely; the guilt was practically drowning me already -- and ran as fast I could without tripping back to Olive's cabin. I banged on the door even though I knew she was right behind it, waiting. She opened it up and I rushed out, "Give me the pool keys."

Olive knelt down and dug around in her backpack by the door, emerging with the keys. She wavered a second before handing them to me and said, "Let me come with you."

"Why? It's your fault we're in this mess in the first place," I snapped without thinking. Her face fell so low it could've sunk into the lake. I sucked in a deep breath and sighed it out. "I'm sorry. Fine. Just...let's just go."

In the solemn hush of the night, Olive and I proceeded in silence, our synchronized footsteps echoing softly across the campgrounds. Our flashlights became our guiding stars, casting beams of bright white light that pierced through the inky blackness of the night. It was a stark contrast to the lively daytime atmosphere of the camp, now shrouded in stillness and uncertainty.

Our path led us past the cabins, their wooden structures looming like sentinels in the night. The cabins, usually places of laughter and camaraderie, now stood silent and empty. The string lights that adorned the campgrounds were absent from this part of the camp, leaving our flashlights as the sole beacons in the darkness.

Neither of us spoke as we moved forward, our minds filled with the weight of our responsibilities and the unspoken tension that hung between us. Olive's presence, normally a source of comfort and warmth, was now a reminder of the choices we had made.

As we ventured deeper into the woods, the trees closed in around us, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. I stumbled over an unseen rock in my path, and Olive didn't catch my arm, her own focus on the mission at hand. The momentary stumble was a stark reminder of the anxiety and guilt that had settled within me, like a cold, biting chill that seemed to pierce all the way to the tips of my fingers.

I couldn't shake the feeling of foolishness that gripped me. I felt like an absolute idiot. Leaving the girls alone at night had been a lapse in judgment, especially knowing that such escapades were possible. My heart ached with remorse, and I wished I could turn back time and prevent this predicament.

But there was no turning back.

We reached the pool and Olive unlocked the door. I shone the flashlight over the black water until it hit the deep end. Thank fuck that Emma was sitting, dry, on the edge of the pool with only her feet in. The other two, though, were swimming in their pajama shirts. Even though I was shaking inside, I put on my strongest adult voice and said, "Get out! Now!"

The girls swam quickly to the ladder and scrambled out, shivering in the cold night. I turned to Olive and said, "Get them some towels from the poolhouse."

She did as I told, reappearing quickly and wrapping each of the freezing girls in a big beach towel. I wondered what was coming through most in my voice: Disappointment, anger, guilt, or relief. I demanded, "Who's going to explain to me why you're out here?"

"We wanted to be out here alone," Emma explained. "During the day, we have to deal with all the other people."

"And what would have happened if you tried to swim, Em?"

"I wouldn't have!"

"What if you fell?"

She went silent. I could tell they all felt bad enough that I didn't need to lay into them too much before morning. So I said, "Let's get you all to a hot shower and back to bed. We'll deal with punishment in the morning."

With Olive at the front and me at the back, we retraced our steps through the campgrounds. Olive asked, briefly, if I needed any more help, but I shook my head curtly and asked her to go back to her own cabin. I grabbed each of the girls a pair of fresh pajamas as they showered and waited impatiently for them to be dry and warm and ready to get back to sleep. After picking up the rest of my campers from Jackie's cabin, where they were playing some card game with the others, I apologized to Jackie about a thousand more times before putting everyone to bed.

I didn't sleep much that night. Every time I woke up, I compulsively checked to make sure everyone was still sleeping and then struggled to get back to bed. My mind raced with all of the guilt and anger and fear that had replaced the pleasure of Olive's presence in one single knock on the door.

--

The next morning, I was exhausted. It was a normal day at camp, which meant we were awake around seven or so, showered and ready by eight, and finished with breakfast by nine. Olive had started a routine of sitting across from me and Jackie at breakfast but, that morning, neither Olive nor Jackie wanted to sit with me, so I sat by my campers, which I knew was very lame at best and actively harming their social development at worst. But, with the paranoia that they'd wander off again mixed with the social stigma of last night, my other option was sitting with Mary and the other proper adults, and that sounded much worse.

The morning's awkward breakfast had cast a shadow over the start of the day. As the campers dispersed to their various activities, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnection. The absence of Olive and Jackie by my side was palpable, and their distance served as a constant reminder of the events of the previous night.

Throughout the morning, I went through the motions of being a camp counselor, assisting the children with their crafts, games, and outdoor adventures before afternoon pickup to send them home. The atmosphere at camp seemed unusually subdued, as if everyone sensed that something significant had transpired. The morning passed slowly, and despite the bright sunshine and clear skies, there was a heaviness in the air that refused to dissipate.

As the hours ticked away, I found myself yearning for some time alone, away from the watchful eyes of the campers and the weight of my responsibilities. It was a desire for solitude that led me to seek out Olive later in the day, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed between us and address the unresolved emotions that lingered from the previous night's events.

The sun climbed higher in the sky by midday, casting dappled shadows across the camp's winding paths. After lunch, the camp was finally empty, all of the girls packed away into their parents' cars heading back home. Finally time to breathe. Time to talk. My heart weighed heavy with the unresolved tension that had been building since last night. I knew that Olive and I needed to talk, to confront the feelings that had been laid bare in the darkness, and to address the repercussions of our actions.

With a sense of determination, I began my search for Olive, navigating through the camp after discovering she wasn't at the main hall or in her cabin. I checked the arts and crafts area, the archery range, and the waterfront, but Olive was nowhere to be found. It seemed as though she was deliberately avoiding me, and my anxiety grew with each passing moment. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of searching, I spotted Olive at the far end of the camp, up on the rocks, by herself. Her hazel eyes were fixed on a book in her hands that I knew she wasn't actually reading, and she appeared lost in thought.

Taking a deep breath, I approached her, my footsteps hesitant but purposeful. As I drew closer, I could see the conflicted expression on her face, a mirror of the emotions that had been churning within me since last night. I cleared my throat softly to announce my presence, and Olive looked up, her gaze meeting mine.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. Then, Olive closed her book and patted the space beside her. She dropped our gaze and stared out at the lake. After a while, she said, "You really hurt me last night."

I sighed. The lake's air calmed me to a certain extent. As much as possible given how my heart pounded and my hands got clammy. I was never the one who hurt someone in a relationship; I was always the one who got hurt. I didn't know what to say. So I went with honesty. "I know. And I really, really am sorry for that."

"I know."

Her eyes stayed trained forward. So did mine.

I had to rush out the next part, the part that had been replaying in my mind over and over all night. I couldn't look at her as I said, "This just isn't a good idea. This whole thing. I'm one of the only people on staff with child-specific first aid training; imagine if this was worse than them sneaking out. Imagine if they'd gone into the woods and broken an ankle or sliced their forehead open on a tree or fell off a fucking cliff or-"

"Maisie." Her soft voice only slightly steadied me. "They snuck out. You never snuck out when you were a kid?"

"Not when I was ten. Ten years old, Olive. This isn't like if the 14-year-olds sneak out and I know the worst they're doing is sharing one single cigarette they stole off an employee." I collected myself and then added, "And now everyone knows I was out of my cabin. Which means your mom is going to know if she doesn't already. If we don't stop now and spend the rest of the summer doing what we should've been all along, this is going to be a whole thing. A bigger thing than we could've been."

The silence hung heavy between us. Her hazel eyes were watering but she grit her teeth tight to stop them from brimming over. She kept her head tilted upwards, chin firm and set, as she nodded quickly. "Okay. If that's how you feel, then okay."

It wasn't and we both knew it. My heart split open at the thought of seeing her again and it sang when our lips touched. But this was my job. And more than that, I had an obligation to the kids, to keep them safe, to make sure this summer meant something to them, not just to me.

As I moved to stand back up, Olive caught my arm and said, "But if you really think that, then you should at least know I'm falling in love with you, Maisie, and I don't think that's going to change."

-

This is the final chapter of Book Two: July! The story will return soon in Book Three; August.