Camp Sutton Pt 04

PART TWO: JULY

CHAPTER ONE: A Little Companionship

The next camp rotation, starting July first, was for girls from 10-12. It's that brutal age where everyone has to be mean in order to not be insecure, puberty is in full awkward force, and nobody knows what to do with any of their feelings. It was also my favorite age, honestly, when it came to being a counselor. The kids were complex, with big questions and big ideas and big dreams. Hearing the way they talked about the world and the people around them somehow changed the way I did every time. Plus, most years, there were girls coming up who I'd had in my cabin for the years before, and that was always a treat.

Plus, plus, they didn't need and didn't want as much supervision as the youngest girls. They didn't constantly tug on my sleeve for affirmations about their latest craft or questions about how many islands there were in the Pacific Ocean. Hopefully, those extra moments of freedom would give me more time to connect with Olive. Ever since Jacks said she thought me and Olive might have something real, I've wanted to figure that out for myself.

I collected the eight girls who'd be in my cabin -- half of whom I knew from previous years and half I didn't yet -- and absentmindedly supervised while they put their things away. They had free time to romp around and explore from lunch to dinner, which meant we counselors were just stationed at different spots around camp in case anyone, like, tried to climb a tree that was too high for them or shoved another girl in a PMS-induced rage or tried to wander out of bounds.

Speaking of which, my self-appointed station was up on the cliffs, which felt radically different during a bright sunny day than it did in the middle of a deep night. I clicked my walkie-talkie on and spoke into it, "Maintenance, this is Maisie. There's a big wobbly rock up here that's a huge trip hazard for when the girls go cliff jumping. Could I get someone up here?"

Olive's voice crackled back through to me. "On it. Coming from the main hall, so I'll be there in a few."

I grinned, hoping it wasn't too obvious in my voice. "Thank you. Over."

For the few minutes I was alone before Olive showed up, I leaned my head backward and basked in the warm sun. The sound of waves on the rocks drowned out any of the noise from camp, letting me feel free for a minute.

Without my even noticing that she'd approached, Olive sat down next to me and nudged me with her elbow. "So where's this big wobbly rock?"

I opened my eyes and looked at her. Instead of responding right away, I got halfway up and sat in her lap for a moment. "Tomorrow's field trip day into Bar Harbor. Think you can get driving as your responsibility tomorrow? I get a ton of time to myself in town while the girls go on that guided tour your mom insists on doing every year. It'd be nice to have a little..."

"Companionship?" She teased. "Pretty sure I can." Her hands trailed down my back, a cool contrast to the baking sun. "Trina pretty much lets me go wherever I want. I guess that's what Mom told them to do at the beginning of the summer."

"Not a bad deal."

She shrugged. I sensed a little pain in her voice that I hadn't expected. "It's because Mom doesn't think I can commit to doing anything. She wouldn't trust me to show up to the same tasks every day. Like, I actually have my lifeguard certification, but she doesn't think I'd be reliable to watch kids."

"I didn't know that," I replied. I kissed her softly and climbed out of her lap, worried at the back of my mind that someone would see us. "Have you tried to talk to her about it?"

"That wouldn't work." Olive sighed, rubbing her thumbs together nervously. Her breath joined the salty air. "You probably know already, but my Dad died when I was like sixteen."

I nodded. I scooted close to her so that our bodies would block the view of me as I took her hand in mind. "I remember hearing about that. She was gone that whole summer taking care of him and some other woman ran the place."

"Yeah." She watched our hands. "So, ever since then, she has this attitude that my sisters and I have to prove that we deserve anything. We all kind of flew off the handle when he died, I guess. Probably because he was the one who really parented us. Mom was too busy. So now if we need anything from here -- even just, like, a sign that we're doing something right -- she makes us work our asses off. Never trusts anyone but herself to do anything."

"She definitely strikes me as one of those 'I'll just do it myself if I want it done right' parents."

"Exactly."

The next time she sighed, I joined her. We sat in silence for a minute. I scanned the shore to make sure no girls were trying to get outside of where they were allowed. It seemed like most of them had found places to sit and talk or run around closer to the main hall.

Wanting to fill the silence and wanting to be vulnerable, too, if she was going to be, I said, "My mom is the opposite. She thinks I can do anything, which means she expects me to do everything. Only thing I've ever been really good at is lacrosse, and that doesn't exactly have a stable career path post-college. I guess I'm alright with guitar, too, but not enough to do anything with it."

Olive cut me a surprised glance. "You play guitar? Did you bring one to camp with you?"

I shook my head. "My only guitar is this super nice vintage telecaster that Dad got me when I got into Drexel. Mint green. It ran him like ten thousand dollars or something. At least enough that he's never admitted the price to me. Divorced parents give guilty gifts."

She chuckled and said, "At least there are some perks. You sing too?"

My voice got serious as I told her, "You're looking at the Camp Sutton end-of-summer talent show winner two years in a row. Singer-songwriter."

A smirk played at her lips, her expression coy. "You should write me something."

I nudged my shoulder into hers again, this time dropping my head into the crook of her neck for a second. "I haven't written a song since I was fourteen, I think. My feelings were much bigger back then."

Her finger traced a pattern on my thigh and my hairs bristled. "How about you just meet me in my cabin one night this weekend? Maybe after the fireworks?"

Sighing and wishing and wondering, I replied, "You know I'm supposed to stay in bed all night in case the girls try to sneak off or need me to take them to the bathroom."

She pressed, "What about when you talked to Jackie?"

"I was gone for, like, ten minutes."

Olive leaned in, our lips only a couple centimeters apart, and looked at me. Her voice was low and seductive and I couldn't help watching the way her lips curled around her words. "Then give me ten minutes."

My walkie-talkie pinged. Olive backed off, laughing under her breath at the blush that had risen in my cheeks. Mary's voice came through the speaker: "Maisie, one of your girls is asking for you back at your cabin. She says it's an emergency."

I rolled my eyes and told Olive, "Someone just realized they forgot to pack hair ties. If it were actually an emergency, your mom would handle it." Then, into the walkie, said, "Be there in two minutes. Over."

As I stood up, Olive poked me. Her eyelashes were full and dark, framing her hazel eyes as she looked up at me. The image of that same expression between my legs made my cheeks even redder. She asked, "How about the 4th?"

There was no way I could resist her, so I said, "Alright. See you in the morning when we load up the vans." I gave her a mock salute. "Duty calls."

"See you around, gorgeous."

Even though I laughed and shook my head outwardly, my heart stammered.

Gorgeous.

CHAPTER TWO: Acadia

The next morning, I woke up early because our cabin's shower shift was barely after sunrise. I made sure everyone was ready for the day, helped apply sunscreen, and handed out itinerary sheets for the field trip into Bar Harbor. The whole morning routine, I caught myself humming and smiling. The groups of older girls always had a day out of camp, and that day was one of the few that we had a break in routine. Instead of leading activities, cleaning up the cabin, and making sure nobody broke their arms even though someone inevitably would, I had four entire hours to myself -- and by that I meant with Olive -- after dropping them off with Mary for her extensive and thorough bus tour.

Olive had, in fact, managed to get a spot as one of the van drivers into town. It was maybe forty minutes from our place deeper in the woods to the big island where the national park and more of civilization were. I sat in the front seat next to her, all the girls buckled in behind us. Even though we were really alone, just being able to look over at Olive, admiring her profile against the sunny window, felt special. Getting out of Camp Sutton's bubble would give us a chance to see each other in a new life.

The drive was beautiful, too. It didn't take long for the trees to part and reveal the road along the coast. Looking at the rocks and waves to our left also gave me an excuse to look at Olive, which I didn't mind one bit.

Izzy, one of the new campers, pointed out the van's window, shrieking with delight. "There's seals! Everyone, there's seals!"

I checked out our marine companions basking out in the sun and told the girls, "Those are harbor seals. We get gray seals here, too, but I like the harbor seals better. They always return to the same mating grounds, year after year."

One of the girls said 'ew' while another said 'how romantic.' Olive glanced at me briefly and asked, "Got any more good seal facts?"

"Oh, I'm swimming with them." The girls groaned and Olive chuckled. As we got closer to town, I added, "They can plunge all the way down to 300 or so feet and hold their breath for 30 minutes. They're really cute and curious, but it's important to stay away from them because they get scared if people get too close. We want to keep all the local animals safe."

The conversation trailed off into a few more of my memorized Maine fun facts -- more than sixty lighthouses, Stephen King's lifelong home, the usual -- and Olive kept smiling the whole rest of the drive. I didn't know what we'd be doing together this morning, but I knew we were both looking forward to whatever it would turn out to be. We parked alongside the handful of other Camp Sutton vans near the town pier, where Mary was already standing with a clipboard next to the big blue bus all the girls would soon be on.

I hopped out of the passenger seat and slid open the van's big side door. After helping all of the girls jump down to the ground, I pointed them toward the bus. I didn't even realize that Mary was approaching us until she was closing the final distance. She narrowed her eyes at Olive, then at me, then at Olive again. But, ultimately, she addressed me. "Everything alright with you, Maisie? You've seemed a little absentminded this summer."

I put on my best saccharine smile. "I think I'm just becoming more thoughtful as I grow up, Mary."

She patted my shoulder in a way that was supposed to come off as maternal but definitely didn't. The expression she gave me next was pointed. "Just don't forget it's all about the campers at the end of the day, not about us."

As soon as she turned around to go back toward the bus, Olive and I clapped eyes. She muttered, "She hates the idea that I might have a friend."

"You don't think she, like, knows, do you?"

"No way." She snorted. "I'd be six feet under and you'd be driving back to Philly if she did."

I shook my head, releasing the thought. This was one of my freest days of the summer and I didn't want to waste it on paranoia or irritation. After Mary was on the bus, they drove off, the campers waving at us until they were out of sight. Jackie and the other girls were going whale watching and souvenir shopping, but any boat bigger than a kayak made me seasick.

Which meant it was me and Olive. We'd have to separate again when the kids came back for lunch, but, for a handful of hours, we were together.

When the other counselors had gone up the hill for shopping, Olive pressed me up against the van and kissed me. Her touch, going down my arms and to my hips, instantly relaxed me like only she could. She kissed my cheek and then nestled her forehead in the crook of my neck and shoulder. "I was thinking I could show you my favorite spot in the park. There's this tiny cave below the cliffs and I've never seen another person there."

I rested my head on hers. "I can finally cross Acadia off my list."

She pulled back and stared at me like I'd just confessed to drug trafficking. "You've spent every summer here since you were eight and you never went to Acadia?"

"No," I told her sheepishly. "I mean, as a kid they never took us because it's-" her voice joined mine in one of the camp's taglines "-a little slice of Acadia right here at Camp Sutton." I laughed at her and added, "And since I've been a counselor, I've been working every summer. On field trip day, I always just joined Jackie and the other girls with shopping and hanging out on the beach here."

"That sounds like our day planned then. It's just one big loop in the park, perfect if you've only got a couple hours."

So we got back in the van; from here, it was only a short drive to the park's entrance. Olive handed the attendant a hard plastic pass and we were in. The trees, vibrant green in the summer sun, welcomed us as we left civilization. Somehow, even though Acadia and Bar Harbor were essentially the same area, the park felt a world away. With the windows down, the scent of pine and saltwater filled the air, a soothing blend that hinted at the natural wonders awaiting us.

The road meandered along the coast, offering breathtaking views of the clear blue ocean and the reddish-gray cliffs that stretched out toward the horizon. Olive and I continued to steal glances at each other, our smiles growing wider with each passing mile. Something about being away from camp made whatever our relationship was feel more real. Like maybe she could be my girlfriend and not just a summer fling. Maybe we didn't have to be ships in the night.

As we drove further into the park, we couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty that surrounded us. The rocky shoreline seemed to stretch on forever, and every turn in the road revealed a new panorama of natural splendor. Olive occasionally pointed out interesting features, such as a distant lighthouse or a secluded beach, and I soaked up every detail, cherishing the opportunity to explore this place with her.

Olive parked the van on the side of the road nowhere near the major pullouts and parking lots that allowed access to the beaches below. Outside the van, I breathed in the ocean wind. She took my hand in hers, led me across the road, and said, "It's a bit of a climb down, but it'll be worth it."

Looking over the roadside cliff beneath us, which wasn't sheer but definitely wasn't the kind of hike I'd take my campers on, I cut her a suspicious glance. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I've done it a hundred times," she assured me. "I'll stay ahead of you and make sure you're safe."

"So that if I fall, at least we both die."

She nodded seriously. "Exactly. It's very romantic."

As I rolled my eyes, Olive hopped over the guardrail in front of us and offered me her hand. Even though I was perfectly capable as a D1 athlete, I took it and let her guide me down the first few layers of rock, which were more like steps, down to the actual sheer rock face.

The cliffs we'd come down, a striking contrast of reddish-gray against the lush greenery, loomed above us as we reached the shoreline. We continued to explore the rugged coastline, finding small tide pools teeming with marine life and seagulls soaring overhead. After a bit of searching on her part, we arrived at the entrance to Olive's secret cave. The rock beneath our feet was slick with ocean spray. The access point was little more than a slot between the rocks; anyone bigger than Olive wouldn't have been able to get in easily. It was tucked away beneath the cliffs, only accessible during the couple hours before and after low tide.

We squeezed inside the cave together. Inside, the rocks were closer to black than gray. It was small enough that we almost had to touch to both stand inside but not so small that we were forced to. We wanted to. My hand was still in Olive's as I gazed out of this nook, the line of light sharper with the contrast of darkness. The sound of the nearby waves intensified, echoing around us, but every other sound quieted.

"If you're planning on murdering me," I joked, "this seems like a good place to do it."

She squeezed my hand and pulled me close, our bodies pressed together all of a sudden. Her voice was low; if we spoke any louder, it would ring around the cave louder than expected. "Actually, I was thinking about getting you off."

"Oh yeah?" My hands found her waist. "And how were you planning on doing that? Not a lot of room in here."

"Just trust me," Olive replied, pushing me ever so slightly backward so that my ass and shoulders leaned against the cold rock behind me. "And stay still."

I bit my lip, a bit nervous even though I knew I could trust her. But I followed her directions regardless of the nerves. First, Olive ran her hands down my arms, interlocking our fingers for a moment. Then she guided them up above my head and told me, "Keep these here and don't move them."

My pussy responded to her command, heating up alongside the rest of me. Back home, I loved to be tied up, so when Olive started to undo her belt, my heart stuttered and my breaths sped up, anticipating her next move. She wrapped the belt around my wrists a few times and fastened the buckle. With makeshift restraints, I'd be able to get out with some wriggling if I wanted to, but they'd definitely do for now.

With my arms above my head, touching the cold rock in a constant contrast to my hot body, Olive pulled my hair to one side to kiss my neck. Instead of just clearing my hair out of the way, though, she kept her fingers knotted at my scalp, tugging to create a nice sting that kept me right on the edge of pain and rooted me completely in my body, to the earth, here with her. She breathed on my neck before kissing my skin, prickly the peach fuzz on the side of my face. When her lips trailed from beneath my earlobe down to my collarbone, I sucked in a breath that filled my whole body. I released it as her hands went to my covered breasts.

Olive's fingers tugged down the neckline of my tank top. The elastic held up my breasts, which she also brought out above my gray bra. Squeezed together and held up, my breasts were perky and full. The chilly air and brisk sea wind brought my pink nipples to attention. Olive wrapped her lips greedily around one and brought her hand up to the other. She must've woken up in some kind of mood today because her teeth came out immediately and her fingers pinched and my body responded to her like it never had to anyone before. We both lost ourselves for a few minutes in the breathy moans that left my lips and the blush that rose from my chest to my cheeks.

Easing off the intensity and pain, Olive kissed my breasts all over as she unbuttoned my jean shorts and shoved them, panties and all, down to my knees. One of her hands remained on my breast while the other went to my pussy, dipping between my folds. She sucked in a sharp, turned-on breath. "Fuck, you're so wet already."

My voice shook with arousal as my cunt begged for her touch. "That tends to happen to me when I'm around you."

She slipped her first two fingers inside of me. She was right; I was so wet that her fingers slid inside easily, offering up no resistance as she thrust them in and out slowly, lazily, like I was just a toy and she had nowhere to be. At the same time, Olive slapped my tit hard enough to leave a mean red print. I gasped and we both felt my cunt clench with desire. She chuckled darkly, shaking her head. "Should've been rougher with you before."