Sunkissed by Kasie West (english novels for students TXT) 📗

ask for a summary of our day. But just leaving out a few events was a lot easier than having to think of a fully formed lie. I tried to stick as close to the truth as possible and said, “I wanted to go look at the ropes course. I guess it’s less crowded in the morning.”

“I don’t think it’s open this early,” Dad said. “I don’t think anything is.”

“I’m sure you’re right. When someone told me to go early, they probably didn’t mean this early.” Except that’s exactly what Brooks meant when, after telling me the time the day before, he’d told me the place. That was the whole reason we were going this early, because it wouldn’t open for two hours and we’d have it to ourselves. “Maybe I’ll just check it out and see if it’s something I even want to do.”

“Do you want some company?”

“No,” I said too fast, then added, “I’m okay.”

The flash of hurt that crossed my dad’s face made me feel guilty, so I added, “Maybe later we can reserve a kayak.”

“Sounds good,” he said.

I left, pulling the door closed behind me. Why should I feel guilty? I thought. You don’t care when you hurt my feelings. I sighed. He doesn’t care because he doesn’t know.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t felt the electricity in the warm air as I set off down the path. But I felt it now. A band of gray, early morning sky shone in the distance, but overhead, piles of dark clouds hung in still silence. I ignored them and trudged ahead. The wind started slowly at first and then kicked up dry leaves and pine needles as I walked.

I looked up at the sky and a drop of rain landed on my cheek. It was just a small drop. I kept walking, wind whipping through my hair. The longer I walked, the more drops of water fell from the sky. The ropes course was on the far edge of camp, past all the guest cottages and the lodge, past the tennis courts and meadow. It was tucked in a section of tightly grouped trees.

Suspended between the trees were wide ropes and hanging tires and wooden slats and rope ladders and cargo nets and my knees felt like they wanted to buckle while staring at it all from solid ground. The obstacles swayed in the wind.

A crack of lightning lit up the sky, followed several seconds later by the rumble of thunder. I ducked, as if the thunder was the part to be worried about. Thirty feet away was a wooden pavilion. I rushed over to it as the rain turned from a sprinkle to a steady drizzle. I stepped under the shelter and shook the water off my hair. That’s when I realized I wasn’t alone.

Brooks was already there, sitting on a backless bench next to a pegboard of harnesses and helmets.

“Hey,” I said, wiping at my shirt and shorts as if that would dry them. “It’s raining.”

He smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

I walked between two rows of benches and sat down next to him. “I’m guessing ropes courses and rain don’t mix.”

“Good guess.”

“We could’ve slept in,” I said.

“I know.”

“I don’t wake up this early for anyone.”

“Well, you’re awake, so that must mean you wake up this early for…” He pointed at himself.

I felt my cheeks go warm, but I managed to say, “I mean, technically, it’s for me, right?”

“True. Did you have fun with Clay and Maricela yesterday? Are they helping you discover yourself too?” Was that a hint of jealousy in his voice?

“No. I haven’t told anyone else about this.”

“Was it really your birthday yesterday?”

“What?” I asked, confused for a moment; then I remembered Clay and the balloons. “Oh, no. He was just being funny.”

The rain around us intensified, pounding on the roof and echoing through the pavilion.

I turned toward him. “Sooo, what happens when it rains here? Does everyone have to stay in their cabins?”

“No, they open more activities in the lodge.”

“And you?” I asked, my eyes catching his before looking back at the bench between us. “Does this mean you get the day off?”

He let out a single laugh. “No, this will keep us twice as busy—leaky roofs and falling tree branches and stranded guests.” He pointed at me with his last words.

“Oh, I’m stranded now?”

He looked out at the pounding rain. “It’s a long way back to the guest cabins.”

“And how are you going to help me, brave Bear Meadow employee?”

“Well, considering I’m not on the clock yet, we’re going to hunker down here, hope the rain stops in the next hour or two, and write the rest of a killer song.”

I put the back of my hand to my forehead and in a breathy, dramatic voice said, “Is that what you do for all the stranded guests or just the lucky ones?”

“It’s the least I can do.”

I shoved his arm. “It sounds like I’m the one doing the saving in this scenario.” Of course, I didn’t mind helping him with lyrics, but Lauren had been right—I did write poems and liked words, so this felt familiar to me. Not something new like I was supposed to do today.

Whatever metal parts existed on the course above were clanking together like oversized wind chimes. I stared up at the ropes course. It seemed massive, looming, terrifying. It felt like it was taunting me. Like it was saying, You wish your life could be bigger and more exciting but it can’t be because you’re the one living it. I swallowed hard.

“It will be here all summer,” he said, seeming to read my mind.

“True. So, a killer song.”

He dragged a backpack in front of him that I hadn’t noticed he’d brought. “I have my notebook this time.” He pulled out a tattered hundred-page green notebook.

“Ah, is this where all the soul-sucking lyrics are kept?”

“Yes. You might not want to look too close.” He flipped a few pages.

“Wow, soul-sucking is super-messy.”

He studied