Beneath a Summer Sky

  Beneath A Summer Sky

  A.R. Perry

  Legendary Books

  Contents

  Playlist

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by A.R. Perry

  Legendary Books

  Beneath a Summer Sky

  A.R. Perry

  Copyright © 2020 by A.R. Perry

  All rights reserved

  Copyeditor: Anne-Marie Rutella

  Proofreader: Penny Fletcher

  Cover and interior designed by: Lost Atlantis Designs

  All rights reserved. This was self-published by A.R Perry under Legendary Books. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Playlist

  Falling for U- Peachy!, mxmtoon

  Everywhere I’m Goin’- Maddie & Tae

  Hold You Tonight- Gryffin, Chris Lane

  Wish I was Better- Kina, yaeow

  Us- Clara Mae

  Skeletons- keshi

  Let Me Down- Oliver Tree

  Lost in You- khai dreams

  Golden Thing- Cody Simpson

  Yung Luv- Anderlei, Hearts & Colors

  Turn Back Time- Daniel Schulz

  Rewrite the Stars- James Arthur, Anne-Marie

  It’s You- Ali Gatie

  All I Want- Kodaline

  Back to You- Joakim Molitor

  Listen on Spotify today

  “Okay.” Scarlett slaps her arm, then glares at her palm. “That’s the fifth mosquito bite in two minutes. Why did I let you drag me up here? I should be sitting by the pool, not getting eaten alive.”

  I laugh and lift our bags out of the trunk of my rusty yellow Beetle I named Sunshine, mostly to spite my brother, while savoring the crisp mountain air. Nothing in the world compares to being in the wide-open space in the middle of nowhere.

  “Because you couldn’t handle a whole three weeks without me. Plus, it looks good on college applications.”

  “But I’m not going to college.” She smacks her leg and holds out her hand. “Six.”

  “Your mom isn’t around. No need to say that.”

  With a sneer, she takes her bag. “This time I mean it. I want to model. What’s the point?”

  “To be the most educated model? Or to have a fallback. Nothing lasts forever, including that gorgeous face of yours.” I poke her puckered cheek as we head toward the counselors’ cabins. While Scarlett grumbles at my side about overpriced textbooks and dorms, I take in the grounds.

  Camp Whispering Willow.

  Not much changed in the five years since I was a camper. Same long dirt road. Same wooden structures with the obnoxious red doors. Near a dense forest in Southern California, it’s picturesque. Perfect. My ideal summer before senior year hits and I’m bombarded with AP classes and need to face the decisions about what university I want to go to and what I want to do with the rest of my life.

  Something I should have decided already, according to my mother—another reason I wanted time away. I would rather spend three weeks up here with a bunch of preteens than an entire summer with her breathing down my neck about this and that and what I should do instead of having fun.

  Besides, I’ve dreamed of being a counselor since the year I came as a camper, but their stupid rules said I had to wait until I turned eighteen. Which I did as of seven days ago.

  I’m not sure why Scarlett is here though. Her idea of camping is a five-star hotel on the beach with a noon wake-up call and butlers. Judging from how much the mosquitoes love her, I don’t think she’ll last more than two days. Plus, if anyone finds out she gave a fake ID and doesn’t turn eighteen until September, she’ll be gone faster than I can blink.

  “Oh my God.” Scarlett digs her nails into my arm, dragging backward until I stop.

  “Ow. What?” I pry her painted nails out of my skin and rub at the crescent moon shapes they left. “What the hell is—”

  “Dead. I’m dead. God, I knew there was a reason I came with you. When you first mentioned it, I was all ew gross shacks in the woods, but now… This is why I woke up and had a change of heart.”

  When all I do is stare at her because I have no clue what the heck she’s talking about or what lit the fire under her butt, she grabs my shoulders and spins me toward the boys’ cabins.

  And then everything makes sense.

  Shane Novak, my brother Jay’s childhood best friend, is leaning up against a tree talking to the head counselor and owner, Mr. River. Fitting name, I know. He was born to run a camp.

  Scarlett’s eyes bulge out of her head when I don’t have the response she was searching for, and I shake my head. I’ve known Shane since I was a small fry chasing my older brother around the yard, begging to be a part of the group. They used to be inseparable—where one was, the other would be a few seconds behind. And for a short while in high school, they included me in all their adventures. The three of us always found the most creative ways to get ourselves in trouble with our parents on any given day.

  But then they had a falling-out midway through their senior year, and I was a casualty. Taking my brother’s side was a given even though I had no clue what happened. Not that I got many choices since Shane all but pretended I was invisible in the halls. Shane and I haven’t spoken a single word since that day. It made for an awkward four months. Then Shane moved off to Texas for college and Jay moved into the dorms at UCLA and life went on.

  Scarlett moved to town the following year. We became best friends and thoughts of Shane kind of drifted away.

  So really, I should have a similar reaction to seeing him, but it wouldn’t be the type Scarlett is hoping for. I’ve seen his smile knock the socks off plenty of girls. Enough times that I’ve developed a resistance to it. Those perfect teeth and adorable dimples have made the strongest of women crumble, and believe me, he wasn’t shy about using the superpower either. It only got worse when he shot up to almost six-three the summer before junior year. Couple that with a face only a perfect combination of DNA could produce, and piercing blue eyes—well, he’s never lacked in the dating department.

  “Dear lord, I think my vagina just had a stroke.” Scarlett grabs my arm again, but I shake her off and continue up the path.

  “Pull your vagina together. We have to check in.”

  She chases after me, a lot more pep in her step compared to a few minutes ago. “Have you gone blind? Are you going to ignore that gorgeous piece of man meat up on the hill?”

  I should tell her he’s not some gorgeous stranger—that I used to spend pretty much every waking moment with him. But the look on her face will be so much more delicious when we reunite and I get one of Shane’s famous bear hugs. It’s been years—he has to be over the falling-out by now. He’s going to freak when he realizes we ended up at the same camp.

  What a small world.
>
  I jog the rest of the way up the hill, catching Mr. River’s attention first. His face lights with a smile, and when he turns toward us Shane glances my way.

  If looks could kill, I would die twice. Once for my body and a second time for my soul.

  Every muscle locks up and even from a few feet away I can see the flare of his nostrils and the ticking of his jaw. The only other time I’ve seen him this angry was when my brother smashed his TV when a game of Wii bowling got a little crazy.

  My feet falter and I lose the ability to speak.

  “Miss Underwood, I’m so glad you made it up safely. An early bird like Mr. Novak, I see.” Mr. River greets me with a smile still in place and motions for me to join them, oblivious to the glare of death Shane is throwing my way.

  “And Miss Morse, is it?” He shakes Scarlett’s hand and relieves her of her bag. “A late addition but always welcome. Mr. Novak and I were discussing the curriculum. He had some wonderful ideas to improve a few outings this year.”

  I blink. Shane doesn’t. His glare is set in place almost as if he’s scared that if he does blink, he might lose the opportunity to murder me with his eyes.

  “This is Mr. Novak’s fourth year helping, so if you have any questions feel free to ask. Think of him as my right-hand man.” Mr. River slaps a palm to Shane’s back and motions to the cabins across the dirt road. “Will you show these ladies where to set up?” He passes Scarlett’s bag to him.

  Shane’s jaw clenches again, but he nods and stalks off toward the other set of cabins. My wide eyes meet Scarlett’s and when Mr. River clears his throat, we hustle after Shane.

  So, he’s not over the bro breakup. You would think after two years he would have moved on. It’s not as if it was my fault or anything, so I have no idea why he’s taking it out on me.

  “Here you go.” Shane unlocks the door and nudges it open. “This is where the female staff stay. It’s self-explanatory. Beds.” He points to the five sets of brown rickety bunk beds. “Bathroom and shower are in the back.”

  “Thank you so much.” Scarlett takes her bag from his hand and bats her eyelashes, which at the moment are coated in a perfect layer of black mascara, making her doe eyes appear bigger.

  Much like Shane, I’ve seen Scarlett work her magic. She’s notorious for dating around, her three-date rule firmly in place, yet guys still line up to take her out even when they understand it’s going nowhere.

  Shane clears his throat, his gaze passing over me before settling on the silver number one above the door.

  Without another word he walks away, leaving Scarlett and me standing on the front steps. A few seconds later the door to his cabin slams shut.

  “Uh, what the hell was his problem?” Scarlett pouts her pink lower lip.

  I run a hand down my braid and shake my head. Guess this isn’t the best time to tell her I used to know him. Judging by his demeanor, he’d rather pretend I’m a stranger. Or bury me somewhere in the woods.

  “No clue. Maybe a mosquito bit him in an itchy place.”

  Scarlett busts out laughing as we grab our bags. “I’ll scratch it for him. All he has to do is ask.”

  “Gross.” I shove her and shoulder my bag.

  Between the two of them, this is going to make for a very long summer.

  So, I didn’t handle the first meeting with Lyla well. In fact, on a scale from one to fail, it was an utter disaster. The worst part is there is no excuse. I was well aware she was coming. Early this morning I spotted her name on Mr. River’s roster, which hadn’t given me much time to prepare. Not with how the man loved to talk.

  The transfer application crinkles in my hands as I lean against the wooden headboard to what will be my uncomfortable bed for the next three weeks. This application is what I should focus on. It needs to be in the mail no later than tomorrow if I hope to secure a spot at UCLA in the fall.

  Instead, I’m sitting here obsessing over every second, every minute detail of our interaction. Because yeah, that had not gone well, to say the least.

  Epic fail comes to mind.

  I rub a fist into my eye until I see stars and smack my head against the headboard, but it does nothing to block out the expression on her face. The hurt. The sadness. She was never very good at hiding her emotions.

  And I did that.

  I hurt her again.

  God, I suck.

  All I wanted was to protect myself. To make sure I survived the summer. Is that so bad? But the way I handled the situation…or didn’t handle it, made things worse. I seized up, and by the time I came to, the damage was done.

  No clue how I let Mr. River talk me into another summer. Last year I told him that was it. I was too old to be chasing after twelve-year-olds for three weeks. At the time he agreed, then two weeks ago I got a call that a counselor had to drop out due to mono.

  Guess I should be thankful he’s not here spreading it to the rest of the staff. I’ve seen the way some counselors act when they think no one is watching. God, I can only hope Lyla hasn’t turned out like that because I can’t handle watching her with some other guy. With the way her mom had her pinned beneath her thumb though, I wouldn’t be surprise if she rebelled.

  I groan and toss the papers on the red-checkered quilt.

  No amount of rereading the questions will make the information stick. Not until I make up with Lyla. But I have no clue how to do that and keep a distance. This is senior year all over. I hurt her when I cut her out, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

  That’s why I jumped at the offer to attend Texas Tech. The plan was always to head off to UCLA with Jay, but then everything went down the crapper and I needed space. Literally.

  Lots and lots of space. Several states to be exact. Hell, at the time I would have taken continents.

  If my mom hadn’t fallen ill, I would have stayed away too, but now she needs me. And I need to focus on finishing these forms so I can make sure I’ll be here for her.

  I gather them up right as the door bangs open and two guys rush inside. They’re shouting and making a crazy racket. Enough to ruin my concentration. Or the shred of it I had left.

  From the looks of it peace isn’t something I’ll get this summer.

  “Did you see the redhead?” One of the guys bites a knuckle and tosses a camo bag on the bed across from mine. “At first I was pissed my mom forced me to come this year but now…now I’m thinking it will all be worth it.”

  The shorter of the duo flops back onto the bed next to his friend and laughs, but it comes out as a snort. “Screw the redhead—”

  “Oh, I plan on it.”

  He laughs again and sits up. “That blonde had curves I would love to get my hands on.” He makes a crude gesture with his hand while thrusting his hips. Heat rushes through every limb, leaving me shaking.

  The application crumples in my tight fist.

  There are only two girls up here. And I will end up in jail for murder before I let either of these tools get close to Lyla or her friend.

  I clear my throat and both sets of eyes swing my way. The guy on the bed grins and tips his chin in a friendly greeting. In turn, I glare. These two will learn really quick who runs this place.

  “Sup?” The guy standing takes a step toward me, his fist in the air waiting for me to bump it. “I’m Dax. That crude piece of crap on the bed is Jason.”

  Still burning with anger, my gaze flicks to his waiting fist, then with a slow blink I focus on his face. From the vibrating anger rushing through my limbs, there’s no way I look friendly. So, either this guy is terrible at reading people or he doesn’t care.

  There’s an interminable stretch of silence as his arm lowers to his side before he clears his throat. “Yeah, well, we need to grab a few things from the car still so…” He lets his words drift as he turns and smacks Jason’s shoe.

  A few seconds later, I’m alone again.

  Yet I don’t feel the slightest bit better. These are just two of the six male counselors signed up th
is year. Sure, five more females are joining, but still, that leaves little space between them and Lyla. And a crap ton of space between me and her.

  There might be a slight possibility I need to rethink this whole avoiding her thing.

  The bedsprings squeak under me as I stand. The rickety thing has got to be fifty years old, but at least I was smart enough to bring a foam roller this year. Won’t make it perfect, but at least it will be tolerable.

  I head out onto the porch, slipping on my sunglasses as the door clicks shut. Not even nine in the morning and already I can tell it will be a scorcher. That’s the only pitfall of having a summer camp in Southern California. No air-conditioning makes for some torturous days when the temperature reaches one hundred.

  Don’t even get me started on trying to sleep through it. At least Mr. River listened to me last year and installed a few window units. Now I won’t need to sleep with an ice pack under my back.

  I cross the dirt road that separates my cabin from the main house where Mr. River stays. The small office and living quarters are connected to the kitchen and dining room. He likes to monitor things and I don’t blame him. Two years ago, a few of the counselors thought it would be funny to break in and steal all the desserts. Yeah, we were short three counselors that summer after that and had a gang of furious preteens.

  “Hey.” I prop a shoulder against the doorframe as Mr. River looks up from his laptop. “Is there anything you need me to do before everyone gets here?”

  He runs a hand across his balding head. Normally Mrs. River is here to help with all the logistical work, but she’s in Arizona getting her mother settled into a memory care unit. It’s the reason he begged me to come back this summer. If I had said no, he would be running this thing with only a fresh batch of semi-reliable teenagers at the helm.