Dead of Summer

by A.J. Merlin

Normally, when I’m here at Camp Crestview, I sleep better than I do at home. Even though my tiny room is much smaller than the one in my mom’s house. Even though I’m constantly listening, making sure the kids aren’t actually performing a seance or planning a murder.

But I’m not interested in summer love, anyway. The day I meet my forever-person at a kid’s summer camp is the day I check myself into the psych ward, or figure out how I ended up in a shitty Hallmark rom-com.

“Sure, sure,” I agree, lifting my hand in dismissal. “Winning is totally not that important, right Melody?” The ten year old has wandered closer to our conversation, hands still firmly fixed around her handle as we wait for the other team to get to their side of the grass where their end of the rope waits. “If don’t win, we might as well never show our faces to the outside world again,” the girl replied stoically, blinking up at Liza like she’s completely serious.

“What are you doing? Why are you volunteering?” “Because I’m scared she’s going to saw someone in half. Only, it won’t be a magic trick,” I hiss, refusing to underestimate Melody or her ability to do something insane. Do I think she’s managed to find and obtain a saw somewhere on the grounds of Camp Crestview? Absolutely not. No way in hell. Do I think if she wanted to, she and the other girls of my cabin could make a saw out of like a rubber band, a leaf, and a crushing desire for bloodlust? Abso-fucking-lutely. “Oh.” Kayde actually sounds mollified; like my explanation makes total sense. “Yeah, okay. That tracks.”

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to stop being so perfect for me eventually, you know. Or don’t. I don’t mind drowning deeper in you.”