Second Chance Summer

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

“WELCOME TO OUR RETRO Session at Camp Firefly Falls!”

Cheers practically raised the roof of the boathouse. Strands of twinkle lights were wrapped up the columns and around the rafters, giving the whole place a party vibe. The general jubilation of the campers added to the effect. Up on the little stage, Heather grinned from ear to ear. “Tonight kicks off two weeks of turning back the clock. We’ve got all your favorite, classic camp activities.” She listed off several options Audrey remembered seeing in the brochure. “—with a few more grown up options thrown in.” She gestured toward the bar that had been set up to one side of the dance floor. “My husband, Michael, is playing bartender tonight. We remind you to have fun and please drink responsibly. That said, let’s get this party started!”

The sound system rocked out with “Here’s To Never Growing Up” and people exploded onto the floor.

Audrey hadn’t expected quite this level of chaos. She leaned toward Sam, raising her voice to be heard over the music. “Is this a normal camp thing?”

“Don’t know about here. Hale River had dances, but nothing like this.”

“This is a Camp Firefly Falls dance on steroids,” Charlie said.

“Let’s get out there!” Sam gave a little hop in time with the chorus.

“You two go ahead. I’m going to get a drink.” With a drink, she’d have reason to stay outside the chaos and observe. No way would her legs allow for dancing. Not after today.

Sam gave her two thumbs up and dove after Charlie into the gyrating crowd. Was this what a mosh pit was like?

Audrey edged her way around the floor, watching and absorbing body language, automatically analyzing with her scientist’s mind. It seemed a lot of these people knew each other. From what she’d heard, this was as much a reunion as a throw-back session, so that made sense.

What must that be like? To have friends you made as a child that either stayed with you for years, or who you could pick back up with after all this time passed as if it were yesterday. Audrey couldn’t imagine that. She had friends, of course. Plenty of them as an adult. But as a child, she’d been painfully self-conscious, shy, and so far above her peers intellectually they hadn’t been able to relate to her at all. She’d been weird. Awkward. A freak. It had been easy to retreat into her studies.

School was easy. School followed some sense of logic and rules, and her academic performance had delighted her parents. Continuing along that track had just made sense. College. Grad school. Going into research professionally had been a no brainer. Audrey had an aptitude, and, in the Graham family, ignoring that would’ve been considered a crime. Over the years, she’d quietly amassed a list of all the life experiences she’d missed out on because of a lifetime spent worshiping at the altar of academia—never with any clear idea what she was going to do with it. It was more as a form of observational research. After the accident, that list had become her Holy Grail.

“Hi there.”

Audrey slid her gaze up to the guy who’d paused beside her. He was attractive in a clean cut, Ivy League sort of way, with the kind of confidence she’d seen often during her stint at Yale. The jeans and Camp Firefly Falls t-shirt he wore saved him from being unapproachable. She wondered where she could get one of those and made a mental note to track down one of the staff to ask.

“I’m Brad.”

The correct social convention is to speak. Open your mouth, she ordered herself. “Audrey.”

“Want to dance, Audrey?”

A refusal was on the tip of her tongue, but the music shifted into something less energetic. Something by Jack Johnson. Not a slow song, exactly, but something she could get away with not bouncing around to. Number thirty-seven on her list was Attend a school dance. This was probably as close as she’d ever get. She worked up a smile. “Sure.”

Brad knew how to dance. That much was obvious when she put her hand in his and followed him out onto the floor. His grip on her was light but sure. Audrey forced herself to relax and follow his lead.

“First time at Camp Firefly Falls?” he asked.

“What gave me away?”

“The way you’re watching everybody, like you’re not quite sure what to do.”

Audrey tried not to take offense at that since it was true. “I expected something a little more low-key tonight.”

“Kumbaya and s’mores?”

Number fifty-four: Roast marshmallows over a real campfire to make authentic s’mores. That had to be better than roasting them over the burner of the gas range in her apartment.

“Well, I did have my heart set on s’mores.”

“They have a campfire for that purpose every night, so if that’s what your heart desires, we can absolutely make that happen.” He flashed a too-practiced smile.

Was he flirting with her? Or just being friendly? This was one of those areas of human behavior she’d never felt comfortable assessing with any kind of accuracy. Uncertain, she gave a half smile and continued to watch the people around them. Probably it was rude not to maintain eye contact, but that felt too intimate. She didn’t know what to say to this guy.

Brad’s grip shifted. Before she could ask what that was about, he was whipping her out into a spin. At least, that’s what she assumed he was trying to do. Her legs couldn’t keep up, crossing over themselves like a pretzel, making her stumble. Pain shot up from her ankles, through her knees. Shock and an instant panic kept her from crying out. But his quick reflexes kept her from falling or from crashing into the couples dancing nearby.

“Whoops. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Audrey held onto him, not because she wanted to but because without his support, she was pretty sure she’d drop like a stone.

“Audrey, you okay?” The concern in his voice told her she hadn’t managed to hide the wince.

“I think I twisted my ankle.” She hadn’t, but it was the easiest explanation that would get her off the dance floor.

“Crap, I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.” He led her over to a row of chairs near the bar. “Should I find the camp doctor?”

She waved him off. “No need. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to sit here a bit. You go on and keep dancing.”

“You’re sure I can’t do anything?”

He looked so distressed at the idea that he’d ruined her evening, she relented. “Grab me a glass of wine?”

“I can do that. What kind?”

“Anything red.”

He brought her a glass of merlot and, after much urging, returned to the dancing. Audrey let out a long, controlled breath, imagining the pain leaving with the exhale. Sometimes that worked. Sometimes it didn’t. She’d have a date later with some muscle rub and the cold packs she’d shoved into the freezer of their mini fridge on arrival. She took a sip of her drink and relaxed in the chair. At least the wine was excellent.

Someone stepped up to the bar behind her. “Beer.”

Audrey c****d her head at the word, not knowing why.

“What kind?” Michael reeled off several types.

“The IPA.” There was something about that voice. It was deep, the kind of resonant timbre that soaked into your skin.

Come on. Say more than two words.

She heard ice shifting as Michael dug through the cooler. “You settling in okay? Got everything you need?”

“Yeah.” A pause, as if the speaker were taking a pull on the beer. “It’s a lot swankier than I remember.”

Michael laughed and said something in return, but Audrey didn’t hear it. His response, the music, the pain in her legs, everything else faded as her mind zeroed in on the other guy. She knew that voice. Had dreamed of it over and over. Had heard it in her head, urging her on through all the grueling months of physical therapy.

Or maybe it was just that she wanted it to be him. Her nameless savior.

She turned around, hoping the sight of his face would jog her memory, but he’d already left the bar and was striding across the boathouse. He didn’t stop to speak to anyone, didn’t even acknowledge other campers were there. He just walked on out the door and into the night.

Before she could change her mind, Audrey shoved to her feet and followed.