Clouds of dust caught the sun rays as the tires to an old white Toyota Corolla rumbled slowly down a long gravel road. A pig farm on the left side of the road welcomed her back while on the other side of the road a large row of mature trees provided adequate shade for the drive. Her thick red hair danced around as a breeze whipped through the sun roof and escaped out of her rolled down window. It was a beautiful early June Michigan day, a few weeks before the humid miserable summer heat started to sink in.
There was an opening between the trees on the right through which another gravel road forked off into. She turned the steering wheel, the clunker veered off the main road and past a weathered wooden sign that read, "Welcome to Camp Xavier".
She let out an involuntary content sigh. I'm home, she thought. This was her fifth year as a camp counselor at Camp Xavier, properly name for Lake Xavier which is a part of the camp property. Her first time as a staffer was just after her junior year of high school. She wanted to seek out volunteer opportunities to put on her college application. She was calculated like that and knew she'd need to stand out on a piece of paper to get into a decent college program, which her parents obsessed over. She was the only child and she felt the burden of it anytime she was around them. They treated her like an adolescent as if she was incapable of making any decisions on her own while carefully planning out her whole life. So naturally, when she saw a staffing summer position posted in the middle of Michigan, she packed up her white clunker and hit the road as soon as the school year was over.
Camp Xavier was open year-round, mostly serving smaller company, school, and organization retreats through out the school year. During the summer months from mid-June to late August, it served as a full summer non-profit camp for kids who are in foster care or orphans. The large property was a good thirty minutes from the nearest town, making it the perfect place for campers and staffers alike to escape in the summer.
The scent of fresh cut grass mixed with early summer wildflowers wafted into the car and it was divine. She passed by volleyball courts, a basketball court, and clusters of thick oaks. A little further up through another pocket of trees there were about twenty cabins spread out among the woods. The whole camp was mostly in the woods, with a few clearings where they would play kick ball games or other team building exercises.
Finally, she pulled up a small peninsula on the property that jutted out looking over the massive lake. A large two-story wooden lodge lined with windows rested upon the point. This was the main hall that housed the kitchen and where meals were served, or other activities would be hosted there. A large deck wrapped around the lodge and gave for a perfect view a Xavier lake. Behind the lodge there was a small patch of woods that had a trail down to the beach.
The breaks squealed, and gravel crunched under the tires as she lunged the car into park. Long golden legs spilled out and she enjoyed a satisfying stretch, limbs reaching for the sky with an audible yawn. The sun was beginning it's decent for the evening but it's warm rays wouldn't retire for another couple hours. She started up the stairs to the deck of the main lodge. She knew if there was anyone here yet before her, they would surely be found rummaging the kitchen.
"Hello, Camp Xavier!" her voice echoed against the tall pointed ceiling of the dining hall, which was mostly empty besides one table in the middle of the room.
"Jean!" a few voices said in unison. She could make out a large bucket of ice cream and several spoons in the middle. A rather bouncy raven-haired girl waved her spoon in the air, "Girl, how was the drive? Did you just get here?"
"Hey Jubes!" Jean smiled back as she walked up the rows of wooden bench like tables to greet the small crew. "Ro, Hank…" she nodded respectively to them all. "Yeah, I just pulled in. I knew I could find a couple of strangers up here."
"Oh God, Honey" Hank dramatically pulled his sunglasses down and peered through the top out the window, "How in the actual hell did you manage to get that thing here from New York again?!" his eyes flashed a concerned look to the beat-up car out front.
"Oh, shush!" Jean laughed, "It got me here and that's all that matters. Besides, I'm a poor college student." She shrugged while the others glanced back and forth at each other, not as convinced.
"Oh yeah, okay, because the Grey's are totally on a budget." Hank rolled his eyes and Jubilee snickered along.
"So, who else is here already? Do we have a schedule posted yet?" Jean was eager to change the subject.
Although she her family was well to do, their financial health wasn't indicative of their personal relationships. Jean had the high expectation to become a doctor, like her father and mother. It put a strain on her relationship with them and a big part of why she came out to the camp in the first place.
And oh, how she loved that car, it was the first thing she bought with her own money. She worked part time at the college bookstore and saved for two years. She couldn't wait to take the twelve-year-old hunk of junk home when she saw it for sale on the side of the road near campus. She will never forget her mother's bulging eyes when Jean pulled into the driveway for the first time during Christmas break. It absolutely horrified her parents. She delighted in their discomfort.
"Charles just posted the list earlier today." Ro took the hint and shifted the conversation back to their summer schedules, "Senior staff this year is me, you, Jubilee, and Hank. Along with a few others but those are the ones worth mentioning." She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly, "We have some new junior staffers-"
"Freshies!" Hank interrupted dramatically, "Maybe this year we will finally get some cuties! Well I mean, no offense, ladies. Y'all are gorgeous and all, but not really my cup of tea." he winked.
"Oh my god, Hank, keep it in your pants." Jean grinned, "We're not here to find you a husband."
Hank sank into his seat, exaggerating a pout.
"Like I was saying," Ororo butted back in, "We have some new junior staffers this year who are arriving sometime tonight or in the morning. We've got a lot of work to do in just a few short days to be ready to get our first batch of campers on Sunday. I guess there was a storm last week that blew a ton of big branches down. Logan has been working on getting the property back in shape."
A senior staffer was someone had at least two summers of experience at the camp and over 18 years old. Although there were about ten to twelve senior staffers every year, their small group has been staffing together for the past five summers. Junior staffers were usually new younger faces, typically their first or second summer at the camp. Sometimes they stayed the whole summer and sometimes they were volunteers for a few weeks.
The camp had a few full-time roles, Charles was the camp director, Logan was the director of Operations, and Betsy was the office manager. They lived on the camp and maintained it year-round. Then volunteer staffers would fill in during the summer. Senior staffers pretty much run the show in the summer, they know the routine and the camp like the back of their hands. The junior staffers take orders from them and help where they are designated.
All the summer staffers had a big old farmhouse they could stash their belongings in and several rooms filled with bunkbeds to sleep in between camp sessions. Typically, the staff stayed in the cabins with the kids, but camp sessions were two weeks long, then they had a weekend off, and another camp session would start up again.
"Alright, kiddos" Jean grabbed a spoon and dug into the slightly melted contents of the bucket. "I am going to go drop off my bag and see where I can pitch in before dinner. Speaking of, do we have a dinner plan?"
"We are roasting wieners down by the bonfire pit around eight," Hank grinned cheekily.
"Weiner, eight o'clock, got it!" Jean turned and headed back towards the door, "Later gators!"
The rickety farmhouse screen door announced her arrival into the kitchen from the back porch. The ancient porcelain coated appliances remained just how she left them. She saw an open potato chip bag on the counter, clearly, she wasn't the first one to drop off her things. She snagged a chip and popped it in her mouth. She crunched along into the living room where two shabby mismatched couches and a radio on the beat-up coffee table greeted her. The farmhouse was old, it smelled musty, and its biggest technology upgrades in the last century was indoor plumbing and a radio. They didn't have TV but they always made their own entertainment. Some of her favorite memories of her life took place at camp, and particularly this farmhouse.
She wrapped her arms around herself while being lost in a gaze at the couch. Hank had been her first kiss on that worn fabric late one night almost five years ago. It was the worst kiss ever! He was the product of a gay man raised in a conservative family, assuming he had to at least "try" to be attracted to women. Thankfully, by the next summer he was confidently out and proud. They still laughed to this day about that awkward first kiss that did nothing for either one of them.
The stairs creaked giving in to her weight as she made her way to the top. The upstairs was two large bedrooms, one for the girls and one for the boys. With one shabby bathroom in between both rooms. Each room had about 8 bunks beds for the staffers and volunteers to use as their own tiny corner of the camp.
Jean could hear a light cross breeze wailing through the lattice of the open screen windows. She headed to the left into the girl's room and saw some bags dropped around the floor by a few of the beds. Staffers wisely claiming their territory early. There was some strategy to grabbing the best bunk, first you definitely didn't want to be the last to arrive and be left without options. If you slept too far from the window, the heat would choke you in your sleep. You also didn't want a room too far from the bathroom, so you could be one of the first to pop in the shower in the morning.
Jean chose the same bunk every year, the one right next to the window and only one bed away from the bath. It was the sweet spot. And despite several other staffers already checking in, her spot was always left untouched until she arrived, even if she were the last one.
Jean had a reputation at the camp of being the top dog. She was always seen as the mature one, thanks to her boring and strict upbringing. She quickly became Charles's right hand woman, she had the most responsibility and knew the ins and outs of the camp and how it should run. Perhaps he sensed a leadership quality in her or maybe he empathized her life and wanted to give her an opportunity to feel in control for once.
She was also ignorant to her own beauty. Her natural intensity and imitating attractiveness gave her a strong and powerful presence. There was some unspoken power she possessed without realizing it. People saw her as a natural leader and everyone around the camp respected her.
She flung her bag onto her old familiar bottom bunk and unzipped it. Rummaging around in the bag she pulled out a black tank top. Peeling off the old shirt from her thirteen-hour drive was divine. She pulled her thick mane into a ponytail and head for the main office cabin to officially check in.
"I knew I felt a shift in the wind." Charles said from behind his archaic oak desk. "Welcome back, dear." He looked up from behind his reading glasses with that familiar twinkle in his eye.
Jean stood in the doorway grinning ear to ear. She plopped down on a big chair in the corner across from him. She pulled her knees in tight and wrapped her arms around them like she always did. This was her comforting spot. Charles had become more than just the camp director to her, he'd become her mentor and encouraged her through the differences she faced at home with her parents over the years. She respected him and viewed him as more of a father figure than her own blood. With his support, she was able to find her sails and weather the storms in her life.
"How did finals go?" he plopped down the papers and turned his chair to face her in the corner.
"Eh, the usual" she shrugged, glad to be done with the stress of school for the summer.
"So, you did exceptionally well as usual?" he twinkled.
"Yeah, something like that." She laughed.
"Are you excited about your senior year?" He said it proudly, an emotion she hardly heard from her own parents.
She shrugged again, "I still have to then get my master's, then Ph.D., so this hardly feelings like an ending. More like a never ending beginning…"
"Well my dear, you have plenty of time." He reassured.
Jean was quiet, she had a list of master's programs she was preparing to apply to in the fall for the following year. But she would worry about that when she returned to New York.
He sensed the uneasiness in her, "We've got some exciting new," Charles said as he brought her back out of her thoughts. "We have a new position we created, a food service manager. We've been growing so much and staying busy year-round, it seemed like a natural decent idea."
Jean smirked, "Big changes here at Camp Xavier!"
"Speaking of, I can smell the fire, must be close to dinner time." He shifted his gaze out through the glass panes. The camp director's office had impressive large windows that overlooked part of the lake. Little tufts of smoke lifted to the sky from where the beach would be behind the lodge.
The smoky familiar burning wood scent reached her nose and she got up, making her way back to the door way.
"Will you be joining us for dinner?" she asked.
"Oh no, I've got some planning to finish up tonight, so I'll be eating quietly at home. You kids go on and have a little fun. There's a lot of work to be done the next few days, so enjoy it now." he assured her.
Charles's home was an oversized cabin in the woods behind the main lodge. It was the original hall for the camp until they built the new larger one off the lake in the 80's. Since then, it's been converted into the camp director's home, which Charles has served as for the past thirty years.
"Okie dokie, well I will leave you to it." She took one more glance at him behind the desk and headed down to the beach.
The sky was burning red against the clouds as the last bits of day sunk down into the earth. There was a large bonfire blazing on the beach with about ten logs in a circle around it. About twenty-five people showed up to mingle, getting acquainted or reacquainted for the summer.
"Heeello, handsome!" Hank forcibly wriggled between Scott and Marie on a wooden log they were using as a bench around the fire. Marie was also a junior staffer, but this was her second year at the camp.
Scott perked up in amusement at Hank who was now theatrically batting his lashes at him.
"Uh, Hi." His blue eyes from under the baseball cap lit up visibly entertained. Scott had arrived in the morning and was immediately put to work helping Logan clear the beach in time for their bonfire. It was the first time he was able to sit after a long day in the sun.
"Excuse me, sugah, this log aint big 'nuff for the threes of us, ya heuh?" The fiery brunette quirked a brow at Hank.
"Oh sweetie, then you should find a new log, that one looks pretty empty." Hank fired back playfully pointing at another log. "Hank, senior staffer, how do you do?" he emphasized his role at the camp while introducing himself to the two.
"Oh well 'scuse me!" Picked up a roasting fork and locked eyes with Hank while she pierced a wiener at the end the prongs. They were clearly teasing, Scott had the feeling they most likely met last summer.
They exchanged a playful look and then glanced over to the silent figure beside them.
He took his cue, "Scott Summers." He extended his hand out.
Hank took his hand and admired his firm shake, "Oh cute and strong! I like you, Summers." Hank then reluctantly let go of Scott's hand and dusted the sand off his shorts. "Well, I'm a very popular man, my people need me."
Marie let out a raspy laugh watching Hank prance off to the next small crowd, "What a character if Ah eva saw one."
Scott shook his head in an agreed amusement.
"So, what brings ya out heuh, Summers?" His freshly appointed nickname from Hank was already catching on.
Scott shrugged nonchalantly, "Just trying something new. You?" he quickly took the focus off himself.
"Can't neva' blame a man for tryin' new things." Marie held the processed hot dog over the fire as it began to spit and sputter, protesting the flames. "Me? I jus' love being outdoors. There's something 'bout it that gits me feelin' gud."
Scott nodded. He looked up as the last bit of sunlight dimmed and the glow of the fire bounced off the faces around him. He saw Hank chatting Logan's ear off from across the fire. Logan was like a gargoyle, his expression stone and unchanged. Scott had observed this most of the day working with him.
Logan was rugged and barked out orders to Scott upon his arrival. He got a sense that it wasn't personal, and Logan carried a burly demeanor with everyone. Scott was relieved when he was put to work right away, he wasn't overly social and used the time to get to know the property. Logan was clearly older than college age, maybe early thirties?
Scott noticed Logan's expression changed for the first time the whole day. His eyes softened and perhaps maybe even saw the corner of his lip turn up into a smile? Scott looked over to what could have possibly cracked the marbled man's complexion.
It was hard to see through the smoke of the fire and twilight dusk, but he could make out a feminine figure approaching. Her hips and thick ponytail swayed along in harmony as she approached the gathering flashing a brilliant smile. She wrapped her arms around Logan and he squeezed her back by lifting her up, her sandy toes suspended momentarily off the ground.
She was exquisite. It was only the beginning of summer but somehow her skin was already perfectly sun kissed. Her long-toned legs glistened against the flame casting flickers of light. His eyes followed them up where her ripped cut off jeans teasingly hugged her hips. Scott felt as though the air had trapped in his lungs when his eyes skimmed her face. She had a stunning femininity laced with strength about her features. She was quite simply sexy.
"Breath, Sugah" Marie teased as she blew on the blackened dog, cooling it off.
He was snapped back into reality.
"That's Queen Jean," she munched down on the dog, speaking between bites. "The redhead who rules them all around heuh."
Scott laughed, "What? Is there like some pecking order or something?"
"Yah. Didn't ya heuh from Mr. Fancy Pants? Seni-ah and juni-ah staff. We pretty much take orders from them. Like a weird camp fraternity."
"What makes her the queen?" he inquired. Clearly everyone else at the bonfire had gathered around her, excited by her presence.
"She's like Charles's daughter or somethin', well not really. She's been staffin' here for a long time now. But there's a feelin' about her, like she's in charge. There's jus' some things ya can't put inta words." Marie shrugged, "I jus' go long with it. It's nuthin' to be takin' too serious."
Scott mulled over this new information, watching her glide around giving her greetings.
"Kid, keep an eye on the fire." Logan approached the two and gestured at the fire pit in the sand.
"Sure, no problem." Scott stood up attentively like a solider.
"I'm headin' in for the night. Put it out when everyone is done." Logan didn't wait for a reply to his orders and faded into the darkness on the trail leading back up to camp.
Suddenly Jubilee was making her way around the circle of logs positioned around the fire. She was carrying a few cans and passing them out.
She stopped in front of Scott and Marie, "Cold one?" she grinned and held up two beers teasingly.
"Can we drink here?" Scott asked hesitantly.
Jubilee burst into laughter, "What are you going to tattle?"
"No, I just wasn't sure…" he felt the heat of his embarrassment on his face. Thank god for the ballcap covering his face.
"Yeah dude, we just have a few rules. We only drink when resident staffers aren't around – you know, like Charles and Logan. Also, we never drink when kids are on the property. Otherwise, occasionally we have fun. It's a camp, not a nunnery." She cracked open the beer and held it out to him.
Scott took it and brought the cool metal can to his lips. The skunky cheap beer was refreshing and eased his social tension. Jubilee tossed one to Marie who caught it with one hand while still holding her half-eaten dog on the roasting fork with the other.
He sat back down and observed the scene some more. He wasn't big on talking but that didn't make him any less keen. His eyes darted from face to face. Where did she go?
Jean mingled for a while at the bonfire, mostly being bombarded with Hank who loved to jabber on about anything and everything. She sipped on a beer and nodded along to his story. She wasn't really listening though. Her heart was going a million miles an hour.
Logan was her first crush. She remembers coming to the camp during those final years of high school and her stomach filled with the flutters. There was something about him that was so irresistible, maybe it was way his muscles flexed while working around the grounds or his carefree don't-give-a-fuck attitude.
As she got older, he took more of a notice to her. The last couple years they flirted relentlessly over the summers. Eventually everyone started to catch on. Many of the male staffers throughout the years drooled over Jean but never dared to ask her out. They felt as if they would upset scary Logan.
But alas, it is all harmless, just a summer distraction. She was approaching her senior year of college. She thought maybe this summer Logan would truly see her as a real woman. At least, that's what she hoped for year after year. Maybe this year they could be more?
Her heart sank as she watched him saunter off into the woods, most likely back to his cabin. Logan never stayed late to gatherings, he could only do social events for so long before he retreated to his cave.
"You know, that drive really did me in," Jean finished her beer and forced out a yawn. "I think I am going to get ready for bed."
Hanks mouth dropped open, "Um, what? Jean you've only been here like half an hour, what the hell?"
"She's tired, you jerk!" Ro swatted at Hank.
"Thanks guys, I'll see you bright and early!" Jean grabbed another beer and cracked it open for the walk.
Her tired legs started up the path in the woods to the farmhouse, she wasn't totally lying about being tired. There came a fork in the path and if she took a left it would take her to the farmhouse, but that wasn't her intended destination. She glanced around making sure it was clear the jutted off to the right. The path off to the right lead her back to the lodge. However, she passed the lodge and kept going for about ten more minutes, finally coming to a lone cabin in the woods.
"Knock, knock!" She said into the screen door as she stood on the porch.
The wood floor creaked as a large figure approached, "Jean?" The voice sounded surprised.
"Hey!" Her stomach knotted. She knew where Logan's cabin was, but she had never had the courage or really excuse to visit.
He stood there a moment before opening his door and turning around, she followed him inside.
"What are you doing here?" He walked over to the small nook of a kitchen and grabbed a glass.
Jean inhaled deeply, "I just wanted to stop by. Catch up?"
Logan snorted, "Oh, catch up?" He grabbed a whiskey bottle and practically filled a glass to the brim.
"Sure, we're friends, right?" She swallowed, "I mean, I saw you leave the bonfire early and I didn't really get a chance to-"
"Drink?" Logan grabbed another glass, interrupting her rambling.
Jean's eyes got wide, was she really going to have a drink here with Logan in his house? With no one around?
"Yes," the words escaped her lips before she had made up her mind. If she wanted to be treated like an adult, she'd have to act like one. Besides, she was of age, nothing she was doing was a crime. However, she wasn't sure if she was going to like whiskey. She had a few beers here and there, but hard liquor was something she'd never indulged in.
Logan poured her a glass of her own and slide it across the counter to her. She wrapped her fingers around the cool glass and stared down at the amber liquid. As she brought it to her lips, the aroma burned her nostrils. She took a drink, maybe too big of one, and the whiskey burned down her throat to her belly. She quickly turned around, trying to hide her expression.
She walked over to the couch and plopped down on one side, making her jarring movements look intentional. Logan looking uneasy took a seat on the other side of the same couch.
"You know, if Xavier had any idea-" Logan started.
Fuck, does he still think I'm a little girl?
"Logan, it's totally fine!" She took another sip, a smaller sip. The same tingling sensation.
She looked around the room, he was a simple man. Mostly wooden furniture, what you'd expect in a cabin. Nothing fancy, but neither was he.
She could feel the heat of his stare on her. She always liked the attention from him but this time it felt exciting and forbidden. She turned back towards him and her emerald gaze met his dark lusting eyes. She gulped down more of her drink.
She rested a hand on his leg, "It's good to see you." She felt the muscles in his thighs strain under her touch.
"Same, kid." The usual smartass was suddenly tight lipped. He took a long drink, finishing it in one swig. He leaned forward to set the glass on the coffee table. Then he put his face in his hands, resting on his knees.
She scooted over closer to him, "Everything, okay?" She lightly rested her hand on his forearm.
He looked over to the side at her next to him, "You should go."
She winced. Although she heard his words, she could see his body said differently.
Logan could sense the disappointment in her and it crushed him. He had watch Jean blossom into a stunning young woman. The last couple years there was something different about her, she had grown. He watched her strut around the camp like prey he would love to sink his teeth into. If Xavier had known she was here tonight, they would both lose their jobs. The difference for him was this was his livelihood, where he lived and worked. To lose his position would be to give up his life.
He leaned over placed his thumb on her chin, lightly stroking her bottom lip. He brought his mouth down on to hers and she quivered underneath. He tasted like sharp whiskey and raw grit. His lips were powerful against hers and she pulled her hand up to the side of his face, wanting more. She felt his breathing accelerate and thought her own heart was going to explode out of her chest.
Somehow, he managed to break away from her, leaving them both panting in the still silence.
"Don't ever think I don't want you." He stood up and she noticed the knot in his pants, she turned away blushing. His words were a warning. He had just completely unraveled her to give her a taste of the desire behind his eyes.
"Look," He continued, "We can't do this. You know that."
She nodded. He was right.
The glass drew to her lips and she finished up her drink. She got up from the couch and knew it was time to leave. She turned once more at the door and threw her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to his cheek where she planted a playful kiss.
"Good night, Darlin'" He slapped her on the ass as she exited onto the porch.
Jean waited until she was far enough down the path before she unleashed her mind.
Holy shit. Logan kissed me. She let out a half wild and half amused laugh alone in the woods. She could still taste his musk lingering on her lips. She felt giddy. It was her first real kiss from a man. Hank really didn't count.
She then sighed, reality washing over her. It was fun, but he was right. She committed to keeping it playful between them and not letting any of this go to her head. She had a long summer ahead of her and needed to focus.
Twigs snapped beneath her as she continued down the path, suddenly feeling woozy. She took deep long breaths; a few beers and a heavy pour of whiskey wasn't a good idea for her small frame.
She was thankful when the large lodge came into view, but that meant she was only halfway back to the farmhouse. Ugh, fuuuck.
Her head started spinning and she decided to rest against one of the beams under the deck for a minute. If she could just relax a moment, then she would carry on.
The group mingled for another hour, Scott staying relatively quiet and mostly observing the bunch. He enjoyed a couple more beers as the cool summer breeze skimmed off the lake and onto the shore. He was feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. He noticed the fire was dying out and contemplated getting more wood. He tried to read the crowd to see if they were winding down for the night. There were only a handful of people left, mostly everyone else stumbled back to the cabins.
"Alright, I am going to call it a night." Scott spoke up deciding to put out the fire. "I think we've got a big day tomorrow." He justified quickly.
"Oh, boo!" Hank swatted playfully pouted at Scott, "Well I guess the beer is gone, so party is over. Do you need any help, Summers?"
Scott shook his head, "Nah, it's all good. I'm going to put this out and head up." Scott gathered up the metal roasting forks and started picking up various cans in the sand while the embers glowed in the pit.
"Oh, you're such a good little helper!" Hank giggled with a hiccup. "Well I would love for a big strong man to walk me back to the farmhouse, but I see this is going to take you a minute and I need to get to the little boy's room asap. See you later, honey!" Scott watched him stagger off into the darkness and up the beach before turning into the woods.
He took off his cap and scratched his head for a moment looking around. All he had to do was throw some sand on the fire, toss the garbage bag into the dumpster by the lodge, and bring up the unused logs they never threw on the fire.
He remembered he saw Logan chopping wood earlier in the day and had been ordered to stack it against the lodge under the deck. He scooped up the two sturdy logs under his one arm while carrying the garbage and roasting forks in the other hand.
The crickets chirped in harmony as he walked up to the lodge. He decided to set down the logs at the stairs while he ran up and dropped off the garbage and roasting forks. After doing so, he returned down at the base of the stairs to scoop up the logs. He carried them around the back where it was almost pitch black under the big deck.
His foot caught under something and he lost his balance, sending him stumbling in the dark. His hat flew off, he dropped the logs, and then hit his head on a wooden beam all in an instant.
He groaned catching his fall with his hands before smashing into the dirt.
A small shriek ruptured in the dark next to him. Disoriented he rolled over on the ground, whipping out a small flashlight he had in his back pocket.
Less than three feet away the redheaded beauty was sitting on the ground with her back against a beam. He must have tripped over her legs. She held her hands up to the light in her face, her eyes glassy.
"Holy shit, are you okay?" He brought the light down out of her face, dimly lighting them both under the deck.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" her voice wobbled with embarrassment, "Oh my god, are you bleeding?" She immediately got to her knees and scooted over to him, her delicate hands cupping each side of his face. He had a fresh stinging cut on his temple but nothing too deep or worrisome.
Scott tried to steady his breathing, the sudden chain of events leaving him feeling a little winded. His dark brown hair was thick and disheveled without his hat that landed somewhere in the dark.
"Uh, yeah." He found his voice and his hand reached up and touched his forehead wincing, "I mean, I'm fine. Are you okay?" Suddenly aware of how close they were, she sheepishly drew her hands from his face and folded them in her lap and she sat on her knees.
He straightened up, their heaving breathing mixed with a chorus of owls echoing off the lake.
She nodded quietly, "I'm fine. I'm so sorry. But what were you doing he-re?" she hiccuped, and he could smell the sting on her breath. Whiskey? Was she drunk?
"I was putting away the logs from the fire. Um," he hesitated, "What are you doing here?" He was puzzled by this woman who was more stunning up close.
The blood rushed to her cheeks, "I was on my way back, and…" she stumbled for the right words. "You see, this is, uh, the best place to get cell service." She grinned. "Yeah, I needed to check my phone."
"Uh huh" Scott glanced over her fidgeting hands, "So under the deck here, you were checking your phone?"
She nodded, almost proud of her answer.
"Because the best service is right here?" He confirmed.
She nodded more vigorously. "You see, I was an expecting an email from school." She further elaborated the lie.
Suddenly the real world sunk in. He had this beauty right here alone in front of him, yet they were worlds apart. School. The words ripped him in half. Of course, she was a well-educated college goddess. He had barely made it through high school.
"Okay," he said dropping the topic, "Let's just get back to the farmhouse."
She nodded again and more hiccups spilled out as he helped her find her feet. He dusted himself off and grabbed his hat off the ground. This was enough excitement for one night.
"I'm Jean." She finally said breaking the silence while gripping his arm to steady her balance as they started down the path in the woods. It was only about a ten-minute walk on a clear sober day.
"Scott," he said back keeping a cool composure.
"Summers." She giggled.
"You know me?" he hadn't tried to hide the unexpected tone in his voice.
"Well," she grinned up at him, "Not really, but Hank has been gushing about you all night. So, if Hank knows you, then well, everyone knows you. Usually I wouldn't talk to a junior staffer on the first night. But don't get a big head about it-" a hiccup interrupted her teasing, and she stumbled over a root sticking up from the earth.
He caught her before she fell over and he steadied her again. He was starting to think getting back to the farmhouse was going to be impossible.
"Okay, up you go." He scooped her up in his arms without a word and she gave an exasperated sound.
"Hey! Put me down!" she chirped.
"Jesus, Jean, you're a walking hazard right now." He grunted as he started back up the path with her body against his and her legs dangling over his arm.
She silently agreed by throwing her arms up around his neck and resting her head against his chest. "Fine," she gave in. "But only because this is way easier than walking right now." She relaxed in his arms feeling his muscles tense beneath her and listening to his labored breathing.
They carried on in silence until they reached the glowing light hanging above the farmhouse door. He set her down by the back porch.
Jean smoothed her shorts with her hands, avoiding eye contact with him. "Hey, thanks for tonight," she sounded a little more sobered up with perhaps a hint of humility.
He nodded, "Sure."
He admired how even at midnight and slightly drunk, this messy headed ponytail in front of him was quite a site.
"Summers?" Her eyes finally meeting up at his, he could see an intensity in her eyes that echoed down into her core. There was something about this girl.
"Hm?" He wasn't the romantic type, but this felt like a scene in a movie where the guy kisses the girl and she melts in his arms.
"Could you not mention this?" she straightened up, becoming more serious and the words began to spill out of her. "This whole thing, with the deck and us in the woods. It's just you know, I have a standard around here. It just doesn't look good."
Suddenly the air was thick and awkward, but he understood. So much for that big movie moment.
"Sorry about your face, just pretend this never happened, okay?"
"Sure" he simply said.
Without another word she turned around disappeared through the door into the kitchen. The heat from her skin still clinging to him.