Broken Bay

Chapter 3

The campsite was comfortably charming and encircled with towering, big, leafed trees that created a safe, cove like feeling. Lucy's parents owned the land and kept a camper on site.

"Again, how did you get me to agree to this?" I asked Lucy as I parked on the outer edge of the camping nook.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. You'll live if you get a little dirty, and it's not that uncomfortable," she said. "There's even a bathroom inside the camper."

"Yes, all the amenities of a four-star hotel."

"Ugh, I can't take you anywhere," she said and smacked me with a grocery bag. When we finally reached the camper, we lugged all the bags in.

"When is Claire getting here?" I began unpacking some snacks onto the narrow counter.

"She'll be here in an hour or so." She quickly looked away. "She's bringing the coolers."

"Coolers? But we brought drinks." I stopped my chore to look at her.

She stocked the mini fridge with hotdogs for the campfire and continued to purposely avoid my gaze. We had been friends since the age of six, and she usually carried herself confidently, that is, unless she was caught in a lie. "Okay, spill. What have you done?"

She turned to me; face pinched with guilt. "Well, I kind of invited a couple more people than just Claire." She looked down and to the side while chewing on her lip.

"What? You promised it would just be the three of us. Who are these 'couple' other people?" Though I was positive I already knew.

"Oh, you know, the usual, Cole, Brett, Lincoln..." she trailed off.

"Just the usual, huh? By that you mean the whole football team." I sighed heavily and found a stray strand of hair to wrap around my finger.

"I knew you wouldn't come if I told you. This is the last weekend we have before school starts, and I just wanted you to have some fun for a change," she said, standing up straighter and putting her hands on her hips.

She was short like me but with womanly curves. When standing next to her, I felt like a twelve-year-old boy, all straight lines. She flipped her chestnut hair and narrowed her eyes at me.

"I do have fun," I said in a half-hearted tone.

"Staying home and reading a book, writing in your journal, or editing those stupid pictures doesn't count," she said. "You need to socialize more. Take Cole for instance. I know he likes you, and you should give him a chance."

"Cole is nice, and I am flattered, but his attention makes me feel smothered. He's definitely too touchy feely for my taste." I recalled how he always found any way to make physical contact, like putting his arm around me or trying to grab my hand to hold. His constant violation of my personal space agitated me. "Besides, I've told you not to play matchmaker anymore. I'm still traumatized from the date you forced me to go on with Shane. Not happening ever again."

"So, he wasn't your type, that's fine. Sometimes you have to date a few people before the magic happens," she said, her face softening.

"You're right, a guy who tries to stick his tongue down my throat before the movie even starts is definitely nothing even remotely close to my type." I shuddered, remembering his slobbery wet lips. "And nope, there isn't any magic going on anywhere near me. You might as well just give up."

"I will not," she said in a huff. "You need to lighten up a bit, get your head out of the clouds and let someone get to know you."

She was full on preachy tone, and I knew she wouldn't drop it anytime soon if I couldn't find a way to distract her. So, I did what I did best and directed the attention off myself and onto her.