Sunkissed, Kasie West [best authors to read TXT] 📗

for a moment and looked in the mirror above the sink. My brown hair hung limp around my shoulders and my hazel eyes were tired. Was it too late to go home?

I let out a sharp breath. I knew home wasn’t an option, but a bed was a good second choice, one that only existed outside of this bathroom. I ran my fingers through my hair, wiped a bit of mascara from beneath my eyes, and exited the bathroom.

This time as I passed the doors where I’d heard the music earlier, I stopped and peered inside.

The room was a small theater with stadium-style seats facing the stage. At the moment, the seats were dark and empty. But the stage was lit and a three-person band, surrounded by instruments, stood talking among themselves. I wondered what events here required a live band. Bingo night?

“Are you lost?” a voice said, startling me.

To my right, behind the last row of red velvet chairs, was another guy, squatting by a guitar case, closing the lid. He had long, wavy hair and intense blue eyes that seemed to stare right through me.

I almost took a step back. “You scared me.”

He stood, and even though he was an average size, there was something about his posture or confident gaze or knowing head tilt that commanded the space. “You new here?” His question didn’t sound rude, but it wasn’t friendly either.

“Yes, just got here.” A clash of cymbals echoed through the theater and I looked over to see the drummer, a big Polynesian guy, standing up.

“Sorry!” he called out, and then did a drumroll on his snare and laughed.

“Are you…Is this…a band?” I asked the guy near me.

His eyebrows shot up.

“I mean, obviously it is, but why?”

A half-smile finally crept onto his face, lighting up his eyes and making him seem more approachable. If a half-smile could do all that, I found myself wondering what his full smile was capable of.

“Mostly for, you know…the music,” he said.

I rolled my eyes but also smiled. “The music? How unoriginal. I’d do it for the groupies…or the drugs.”

“I’ve known for years that I’m a total sellout,” he shot back.

My smile widened. I couldn’t help it. He was the first person tonight who seemed to actually get my dumb jokes. “So where can this music be heard?”

“We play at dinner.”

“Live dinner music? How fancy.”

“Nothing but the best for our entitled guests.”

I blinked, not sure if he intended that as a dig or not. No, we’d just been joking. It was a joke. “Well, if music isn’t a human right, it should be.”

“Agreed.” He lifted his guitar case.

“Brooks! You coming?” another bandmate yelled out. The three of them were heading toward the black curtain at the back of the stage.

Brooks held up his hand to them, his eyes still on me. “Yeah!” His hand dropped to his side. “And you are?” he asked, seeming to imply that his name being called had counted as an introduction.

I sort of agreed. “Avery.”

“Avery. We have band practice most nights after dinner. Next time come a little earlier and tell me what you think.” And then the full smile I’d been waiting for took over his face. And I was right, it was magic.

I gave a small nod.

He walked several steps past me, up the aisle, then turned. “Is Janelle showing you around?”

“Um…no.” I threw a thumb over my shoulder. “D.”

“Well, then, welcome to Bear Meadow, where your paycheck will be small and your patience even smaller.”

“What?” was my first confused response. And then, just as fast, I remembered the shirt I wore. The staff shirt. He thought I worked here.

I opened my mouth to correct him but found myself saying, “Thank you,” instead. Why would I say that? Two reasons came to mind immediately. One, I hated making people feel stupid, and two, he still had on that magic smile.

He half jogged to the stage, joining the other guys. I tugged on the bottom of the shirt. Dumb shirt.

“There you are,” Lauren said from behind me. “Everyone is waiting on you. What are you even doing?” She looked past me to the now completely empty theater.

“Nothing. I’m coming.”

Back in the lobby, the coffee-spilling mom and her family were up at the counter listening to D explain the camp amenities. My parents were at the entrance with our luggage.

“Everything okay?” Dad asked as I joined them.

“All good,” I said.

“You should go beat that lady up,” Lauren said, narrowing her eyes toward the check-in desk.

I shook my head. “I think I stepped into the kid’s way or something.” It was the only thing I could think of—that the kid had been trying to avoid me. Why else would the woman have acted like it was my fault? “But maybe I’ll go find that suggestion box.” I pretended to write on a paper. “More Wi-Fi, less hot liquids.”

Lauren let out a big impatient sigh.

Dad winked at me. “Fire and Ice.”

“Right,” I said. Just let it roll off, Avery. Let everything roll right off.

Mom held out several card keys. “Let’s go see our home for the next couple months.”

“Have a fabulous day!” the girl said as she used a pair of tongs to put a whole-wheat roll on my plate. It was dinnertime and we were in the big dining hall—buffet-style eating in what looked a lot like a school cafeteria. Unlike the big lodge and our family cabin, which seemed newly built, the dining hall was probably a relic from the camp’s past—paneled ceiling, fluorescent lighting, oak-trimmed doorways. But they’d done a good job hiding all that with nice tables and chairs and big framed art of the lake and surrounding forests.

After settling into our cabin the night before, we’d woken up this morning and spent the day exploring camp—the general store, the sports courts, the lake, the lodge—my dad pointing out all the activities we could try over the summer. And even though the only thing we’d