Prologue: Johnathan Reid.
You know when you didn’t think things through—because surely it couldn’t go that wrong, could it?—and then they really did go wrong wrong, causing you to spiral into a puddle of tears and regret? No? Ah, just me then.
Honestly, being 32 years old, you would have thought that I’d actually grasped how people worked. That people were only out for themselves and who gave a shit about anyone else, right? Clearly, I thought wrong.
So, after almost 6 weeks of bossing around my camp counsellors and listening to countless kids’ bickering, I thought I’d take some time for myself. Yes, I downloaded the stupid hookup app and the first guy who messaged me, I immediately fell for. As you did.
MegaShl0ng: nice arse, what time does it open?
KayakJJ89: uh, hi to you, too!
MegaShl0ng: hi
KayakJJ89: how are you?
MegaShl0ng: horny lol u?
KayakJJ89: haha! yes me too.
MegaShl0ng: my original question still stands.
KayakJJ89: well, I’m currently in the middle of nowhere at camp haha!
MegaShl0ng: how old r u?
KayakJJ89: my profile says 32. I am 32.
MegaShl0ng: rite ok what u doin at a camp?
KayakJJ89: i’m head counsellor.
MegaShl0ng: I bet u give good head wiv those lips
KayakJJ89: you think so?
MegaShl0ng: send me a pic of ur dick
KayakJJ89: uh no thanks! I’m happy talking to you though!
MegaShl0ng: nah im horny like I said I wanna get off.
KayakJJ89: sorry I’m not comfortable sending a stranger a picture of my junk.
MegaShl0ng: u a virgin or summat
KayakJJ89: so what if I am?
MegaShl0ng: Jesus fucking christ. You’re actually a virgin fuck me. You taking me for a ride or something? I haven’t got time for some weirdo virgin. I just wanted to get off. Fuck off.
you can no longer send messages to this user.
And that was the extent of my hookup app career. I vowed at that moment to never, ever subject myself to such a thing again. So what if I was a virgin. Was it really that bad?
Who was I kidding? Of course it was. I understood that people didn’t want to be with a virgin. That all the hassle that went with it was absolutely not worth it. So the older I got, the harder it was for me to find someone who wanted to be with me. And whenever I came across a seemingly amazing guy, like MegaShl0ng (like what the fuck was that?), I’d either chicken out or I’d pluck up the courage to talk to him, which always ended with me feeling like an utter fool.
So, instead of brushing myself off like the professional guy I claimed to be, I decided to hide in my office once everyone had left and pulled out an unopened bottle of vodka that I saved for a rainy day. And hey, look! A rainy day it was.
The first gulp fucking burned, I wasn’t gonna lie. I didn’t usually drink vodka, but it was a present from one of the parents last year. I’d stashed it in my desk drawer and essentially forgot about it until the moment I really needed it.
It hadn’t been such a bad summer, to be honest. The weather was on our side and we only had a handful of actual rainy days, meaning we spent most of it outside in the forest that surrounded the camp or down by the lake or waterfall. Despite it being a good year, I couldn’t help but notice the drastic drop in attendance compared to the previous year. Each year I had to employ less and less counsellors with only six needed this year, eight the year before.
I dreaded the downfall of the place. It was my home. I worked all year doing odd jobs so I could concentrate on Camp Starry Nights. But something told me that it wouldn’t be long until no parent would want to sign their kids up again. That one year, I’d post the application forms and I’d receive none back.
As a kid, I attended Camp Starry Nights, and in its prime, it was an amazing place to be. Surrounded by all of the activities you could imagine. I remembered having to queue for kayaking one year because it suddenly became super popular over night. The bustle and chaos made me so happy. And I knew that I wanted to be a counsellor when I grew up.
So I did. The year I turned 18, I applied for a job, got it, and I never left.
But, I feared that it was my fault that the camp had gone downhill. I followed in the footsteps of my head counsellor, learned everything I could possibly learn from him, and yet, only mere years after he handed it down to me, it was crumbling in my fingers.
Was I even cut out to run such a place? The kids hated me. They called me Killjoy Johnathan. That was why a lot of the time I stayed in the office, which was actually a tiny building that was used as the main reception as well.
Maybe that was why things were going wrong. I didn’t know. Did I even want to know? It was hard enough knowing that the majority of the kids didn’t like me. They said my voice was annoying. Jarring, in fact. I heard that from one of my previous kids, who happened to become one of my counsellors this year. Spencer Anderson. He and his best friend, Lake St. James, were absolutely irritating. But over the years, I grew to love them.
However, Spencer disappeared one year, causing Lake to be completely heartbroken not knowing why his best friend never returned. But, Spencer did return, just years later, and I was under the impression that he didn’t talk to Lake anymore. I believed it was something to do with Spencer being sent to a conversion camp to combat his suspected homosexuality, but I wasn’t totally certain on the fact. I only came to that conclusion through the disgusting words of his mother.
Ugh. I glared at my bottle of vodka, with a quarter of it sloshing away in my stomach, and allowed the waterworks to return. Why was I so pathetic?
“Woah, everything okay, boss?” The voice caused my sobs to halt and a little embarrassment to seep in. Rhys stood in the doorway of my office, his hip leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms to his chest. No no. The fact that Rhys was witnessing my vulnerability made me actually want to crawl into a hole and die. Unfortunately, there were no available holes for me to take up residence. Fuck.
“I thought you’d left with everyone else,” I said, avoiding answering his question, because I was very clearly not okay so we didn’t need to address it. I was good at pretending—pretending I wasn't bawling my eyes out on the floor of my office, vodka in hand. Yep totally doable.
“I thought I’d help with the close down of the food hall. Janet had a bit of an accident with the powdered soup.” Janet was an adorable old lady who’d been working at Camp Starry Nights since even before I began attending. She’d do anything for anyone, even the fussy kids who refused to eat scrambled eggs—somehow she’d whip them up a poached egg or even boiled. Anything! She was essentially magic to the kids.
“I love Janet. She’s a lovely old lady.” I was pretty sure I slurred my words. But Rhys never reacted. He was very cool, calm, and collected. His aura remained very placid. He was one of the most levelheaded men I’d ever come across. Surprisingly, he and Spencer had become pretty good friends over the weeks. They relied on one another fairly well and I knew I could trust the two of them to handle their herd of kids without major issues.
“That she is,” he said, taking a step inside the office and closing the door behind him. My heart hammered in my chest. I could smell him. And he smelled absolutely divine. I kinda wanted to lick his skin to see if he tasted good, too. I bet he did. “Now, are you sharing or are you being a greedy bastard?” He plonked himself down next to me. His knee knocking into mine as he settled against the wall.
“Sharing is caring!” I giggled. I fucking giggled. Not just a little giggle that slipped from my lips. Oh, no. Waves and waves of giggles. Jesus Christ, I was making such a fool out of myself. Yet, the liquid confidence batted away real embarrassment.
I passed Rhys the bottle of vodka once I’d actually calmed myself down, surprised that he hadn’t called me out on my drunkenness yet. He took a large swig from the bottle and I couldn’t help my eyes trailing down his face to settle on his neck. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed down the alcohol did something to me. Made a tickling sensation grow in my stomach.
Ugh. He was too fucking attractive. He was shorter than the average guy, probably 5’7” but his stature made up for his height. Rhys was stocky, his arms quite muscly but not overly and from what I’d seen, his stomach had a little podge to it that made me want to tickle him. I wouldn’t, obviously. The urge was there though.
It was his eyes, for me, though. Inside they were the lightest hazel colour. Beautiful and warm. But, in the sun they shone bright and green. Utterly mesmerising. I spent most of the time when I was near him willing myself to pull my stare from him. It was pathetic. He was only 23 years old. Basically a child. Not really, but I couldn’t feel those kinds of things never mind act on them. Could I?
Silence surrounded us as we passed the bottle back and forth between us. It was nice. My tears had ceased, sobs long gone, and instead a wave of comfort blanketed over me. That, or I was fucking sloshed.
“So,” Rhys broke the silence, “Care to explain what has caused your little meltdown?”
“Men.” I groaned because I didn’t want to talk about it, but I wanted to scream my frustration over how some men could be such wankers.
“Hmm, so very vague, Nath.”
“Uh, Nath?” That was new. He either called me boss or…shit, he never actually called me by my name. Weird.
“Yeah. Nath. Joh-NATH-an. Nath. Or do you want to be Grumpy Johnathan?”
“I am not grumpy.” I crossed my arms and frowned. I wasn’t grumpy! Or at least I didn't want to be grumpy.
“I think you are. Permanent frown lines riiiiiight there. Such a grumpus.” Rhys’s fingers brushed next to my eye and my stomach dropped. It fucking swooped. In fact, there were the dreaded butterflies. I shook it off. We wouldn’t be having that, no sir.
“You’re mean, Rhys. Look at you. All solid and mysterious. No wonder the kids adore you. I’m just Boring Johnathan. They cringe at my voice. They roll their eyes at my rules. They hate me.” I pouted like a child despite the fact that I was actually torn up about the fact that the kids weren’t big fans of me.
“They don’t hate you. You just need to loosen up a bit. Try it next year. Be the guy you want to be. I know this place is stressful but the kids come here to have fun. You don’t wanna be a fun sucker, do you? That’s the worst kind of sucker.”
“That’s the only sucking I do." I sighed, running my hand through my shoulder length ash blond hair. "I am a fun sucker, aren’t I?” Oh dear. Please stop talking. It was getting worse.
“I’m sure you suck other things aside from fun.” Rhys wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. God, I wished I could joke about things like sex. But how could I joke when I knew nothing about it? And no one would give me the time of day to learn. To practice.
“I fucking wish.”
“It been a while?”
“More like never.”
“Oh, for real? That’s not a bad thing, it’s just you’re actually a great guy, Nath. I see through the seriousness. There’s an intriguing guy underneath all that sternness.” His fucking smile, though. The smile that barely saw the light of day. Urgh. Those damned butterflies!
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
I decided to take an opportunity. Rhys was saying such nice things to me, making me feel like jelly. He had to like me, right? I leaned forward and puckered my lips, my heart hammering in my chest, it was a wonder how it was still contained.
But the hope that I built up came crashing down when Rhys pulled away. He looked conflicted. Like maybe he felt like he had to kiss me because I was his boss and I decided if he worked or not, but ultimately realised that kissing me wouldn’t be worth it. Understandable.
“Fuck, sorry, Rhys. Fuck. Pretend I didn’t try that. Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s the drink, right? Pretend it never happened. Move on. We’re good.” Rhys stood up from the floor and wiped away any possible dirt from his clothes. He smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was forced. Fake. His genuine and rare smile long gone.
“We’re good?” My voice felt restricted. Like someone had their hand around my neck, squeezing my windpipe.
“Of course. See you next year, boss.” Fucking boss.
We weren’t going to be good, were we? I’d fucked that up.
