Chapter 2: Night Games

My cousin shoved a fifty-dollar bill into my hand. I hesitated, suddenly awkward, my fingers tangling in my pocket.

He pressed it in like a dad slipping his kid cash at a state fair. I tried to give it back, but he waved me off.

He forced it deeper into my pocket. “Take it. You probably think I’ve been keeping you at arm’s length these past six months, right?”

He had that look—part teacher, part big brother. I shrugged, feeling like a rookie.

I said, “No, I just want to learn from you.”

It came out soft, but I meant it.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. This job—one mistake and someone gets hurt. I can’t let that happen. I scouted every trail in this county myself. Built this from nothing.”

He sounded just like Dad after a double shift—no brag, just facts.

I nodded, holding up three fingers. “I get it. I swear—even if I don’t work with you again, I’ll never guide here. You’re not just family, you’re my mentor. I’ll always respect you.”

Out here, promises meant more than any contract.

He nodded. “You’re honest and careful. I trust you. Let’s work hard, maybe build a couple big houses for the family one day.”

He smiled, and for a moment, he was the same kid who used to steal apples with me from Old Man Harlan’s orchard.

Behind his shoulder, the tent Boss Nick had entered started rocking in a steady rhythm.

No mistaking that sound. It was awkward and funny—like a dirty joke you’re not supposed to laugh at during Thanksgiving dinner.

Seeing my face, my cousin snickered and pulled something else from the bag.

He dangled it just long enough for me to catch the label in the firelight.

When I saw the square plastic package, it finally clicked.

A hundred bucks each—condoms.

It hit me like the punchline to a joke I didn’t get until now. The wildest things in the wild weren’t always outside the tents.

These people said they wanted adventure, but really, it was all about what happened after dark.

I shook my head, half-laughing, half-disbelieving. People don’t change, no matter how far from home they go.

“Let’s see if you’ve got instincts,” my cousin grinned. “Guess who’s in that tent?”

He nudged me, like we were back in grade school playing detective.

I thought hard.

This was an elite group—eight people with money and influence.

The women especially stood out.

Danielle adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, scanning the group like she was running a board meeting. In her thirties, curly hair, fair skin—she had a way of making people listen.

Morgan, an exec from a Fortune 500, flicked her short red hair, slipping English phrases into her sentences. She had a beauty mark under her left eye and the vibe of someone who checked her email even on vacation.

Mimi had hair that tumbled down her back like she was in a shampoo commercial. Youngest and prettiest, she claimed to be a model and dance instructor, and floated around camp, barely touching the dirt.

Paige, the quiet artist, was always lost in her sketchbook, rarely speaking. She seemed the most genuine. Danielle said Paige was still a student, and sure enough, Paige admitted she was a grad student and comic artist.

I was stumped. None of it fit.

Boss Nick was the group favorite, but still—a hookup? That felt like a stretch.

My cousin waited. I said, “Okay, definitely not Paige. She’s the shy, creative type. No way.”

He nodded, eyes glinting like he knew something I didn’t.

“Probably not Mimi, either. She’s got the supermodel thing going. Why would she pick Boss Nick?”

He leaned in, egging me on.

“So it’s between Danielle and Morgan. Morgan’s an employee, maybe she’s playing the office politics game?”

It sounded plausible, at least to me.

“Let’s see if you’re right.”

He grinned, and we hunkered down like kids spying on neighbors.

We watched through a crack in the tent. After a few minutes, the shaking stopped. A shadow shifted. Boss Nick slipped out, pulling up his sweatpants, glancing around before heading to his own tent.

Then I saw her—Paige. She stretched out of the tent, hair loose, black stockings peeking from the sleeping bag. She smiled, then kissed Boss Nick again, her face both shy and lit up.

I froze. My stomach flipped. I’d just spent all night ruling her out, and there she was, rewriting the story while I watched.

I fiddled with my shoelaces, cheeks burning. The Paige I thought I knew was gone—this was someone new.

Boss Nick slipped away. Paige lingered, then ducked back inside. I lay awake, wondering what else I’d missed—about Paige, about everyone.

“You can’t judge people by appearances,” my cousin said.

He sounded smug, but there was a note of kindness in his voice. He wanted me to remember this.

“How’d you know it was Paige?” I asked.

He laughed, low. “Me? I just watched who went where before lights out, dummy.”

So simple, I had to laugh too.