I Don't Thin I Can Do This

"I don't think I can do this," my sister said to herself. But she knew that she would.

Alicia stood on the wooden platform, eyeing the lake below her like it was lava. Holding the thick swing rope in her hands. I was already in the water -- deep and cold. People around me were swimming laps, wrestling, splashing each other. Doing the things that teenagers do when surrounded by water on a sweltering day.

I only saw my sister. Her fingers white from squeezing the rope. Her pretty, glowing face as she peered over the edge. It wasn't hard, what she wanted to do. Just a long swing over the water then... Drop! I'd done it enough times my nerves hardly trembled from the fall. But this was Alicia's first try with the rope swing. Her general nature of nervousness held her back. Fortunately, my sister's need to be seen as a confident, courageous adult -- and her brother's watchful eye -- were all pushing hard in the other direction.

"You can do it, Alicia!" I called to the shore.

My sister leapt forward. Hung limp off the rope. Hands taut. Her pink body stark against the blue sky. And then SPLASH into the water nearby. She popped up a moment later, blonde hair dark from the water. Already enormous blue eyes wide, sparkling like the liquid she was now immersed in. The rope swung back limply to the shore.

I swam over and grabbed my little sister in a tight hug. Her warm body slick in my hands. Before I could think about what I was doing, I pressed my lips to hers. I was so proud. Alicia gasped and pulled back. She searched my face for a moment, then smiled and swam away to join her friends.

*

We hiked the long hill back up to the camp. The path was hard and studded with roots. A summer of chasing campers around had put me in the best shape of my life -- the rise was still steep enough to make me struggle for breath. As a counselor, I led the way, kids of all ages trailed behind me like a tail. My sister was somewhere at the back.

Finally, we reached the top of the hill and the dirt turned to a soft carpet of bright green grass. The campers streamed past me. Devon, my co-counselor, caught up and let me know that our boys (we had the ten-year-olds that year) were going back to the cabin to get changed for dinner. My sister went past with a bunch of girls her age. Pointedly stared at somewhere I wasn't.

"Dude, Alicia is hot," Devon said, eyeing the way my baby sister's little bottom bounced with every step.

"Dude, that's a camper. And my sister," I said.

"So? She's eighteen. I'm just saying, man."

I looked Devon down like a dog and then loped off to clean up. The showers were a set of tumbledown wooden shacks sat back amongst the trees behind the boys' cabins. They had thin doors and a disturbing number of spiders, but it was better than trying to sweat my way clean.

Once I closed the door behind me, I stripped down and turned on the water. It spit out cold, but I didn't care. Everywhere I touched I found new little cuts -- I wasn't even sure where most of them came from. I'd always been lean, but a summer of constant exercise and a camp food diet had left me almost stringy. Muscle tight on broad bone.

I got out and dried, then walked across the meadow to my cabin to get changed. The cabins were large and wooden, built around a sprawling grass field. The boys had already run off and the cabin was empty. It was one large communal room with bunk beds on every wall and screened-in windows. Fortunately, Devon and I got our own little space off to the side. I still had to share a bunk with my co-counselor, but at least we had a separate room from the kids.

The dinner bell started to ring just as I finished getting dressed. As I strode across the meadow towards the dining hall, I bumped into Alicia. My sister was walking with that same bunch of girlfriends, laughing and talking loudly. But when she saw me, Alicia held back so we could walk together alone.

She was about to start college, but Alicia looked more like a high school freshman. She was nearly a foot shorter than my own six feet and everything about her was petite. Little hands and skinny legs. She had a cherubic face with rosy cheeks and big blue eyes that seemed set in a constant smile.

"What was that about?" Alicia asked straight out. "Before." My sister had her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail that hung down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a rainbow-striped tank top and a pair of tan shorts that were barely enough to cover her butt.

"Come on, Nate," Alicia said.

I told her I didn't know why I'd kissed her, which was true. Alicia and I were linked in a way that was deeper than siblings and tighter than friends. We're not shut ins -- I have plenty of friends and have had plenty of girlfriends. I didn't think Alicia dated all that much, but I knew she was popular in high school. I'd never thought of my sister

that

way. I'd never sketched it out in my mind, let alone filled in the entire picture.

Yet while everyone else bitched about their brothers and sisters, we cherished each other. Maybe it was Dad dying when we were young, or Mom being Mom. It was far too easy to feel alone. Even easier, then, for us to be together. Alicia was my cheerleader, my sympathetic ear, and my best friend, all rolled into one. I was her coach, her confidant, her champion.

So, when she was up on the platform, getting ready to swing, I felt like a part of me was there with her. Scared to jump. Afraid of not jumping. But then I was also in the water at the same time -- the expectant older brother, eager to be impressed as always.

"I guess the emotion of it all just grabbed me," I said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Alicia said. She stretched up and smooched me on the cheek. Held my hand the whole way down to the mess hall.

*

After dinner, the sun crackled like an ember on the edge of a charcoal sky. Devon led our ten-year-olds back to their cabin, but I followed the older campers through the forest. Unlike the cabins, the teenagers all slept in tents laid out in a circle in the middle of a forest clearing. Not the little pups you're probably picturing, but large wooden platforms, draped in heavy canvas, that slept four to a space. Boys and girls were in separate tents, but beyond that there was no separation of the sexes.

In the middle of the tents, there was a massive fire pit. Big enough that fifty or so campers plus a bunch of counselors could all sit around it. Someone had already gotten the fire going and we all squatted on felled logs, watching the flames lick thirstily at the sea-dark sky.

Bruce, an older guy who'd toured with the Dead in another life, got out his guitar and a few of us sang along. I felt a warm body press against mine -- my sister had joined me by the fire. Alicia leaned back and rested her head against my chest. I was four years older than her and I often felt like I was twice her size -- for someone like my little sister I was comfortable as any couch.

We'd both gone to Camp Loantaka (conveniently located just 15 miles south of the White Mountains, as it says in the brochure) since before we were teens. Later, when I grew out of it, I took a counselor's job so we could both still go together. But Alicia was heading to college in the fall while I was graduating from the same and we'd both come to an unspoken agreement: this was the last summer. It cast a melancholy pall over everything, like we weren't just letting go of camp, or childhood, but each other.

Our closeness had survived everything up till now. While I didn't think we would break apart, I couldn't see how we could stay together either. Loantaka was our last bastion. I had a job lined up in Boston. Alicia was headed to Wash U in St. Louis. Neither of us was coming back next summer. No matter how much we might wish to in the moment.

Alicia and I cuddled quietly by the campfire. Her eyes smoldered up at me. I ran my fingers through her cool, blonde hair. My little sister shifted back against me, tight. Our fears and regrets echoed against the emptiness. The stars shone above us, undaunted.

*

I felt a hand shove at my shoulder, and I popped awake. My sister hovered over me, her face lit orange by a little flashlight. Alicia was grinning, giddy. She held a finger to her lips and gestured me out of bed. Devon snored loudly from the upper bunk.

My little sister grabbed my hands and dragged me under the moonlight. The meadow grass was dewy and cool. I was in shorts and a t-shirt. Alicia had on that same rainbow tank top and a pair of long pajama pants. The moon and stars made it easy enough to see.

"This is a bad idea," Alicia said. My little sister leaned up and pressed her thin, pink mouth to mine. I felt her tongue play at my lips, and I let it slip past. Alicia teased at my teeth and tongue. We separated suddenly, chests heaving like we'd run circles around each other. Then we intertwined again.

Alicia's arms were tight against my back. Her body was surprisingly soft. The warm wetness of her breath mixed with mine. She smelled sweet, with a hint of berry and fresh cut grass. Her hair tickled at my cheeks.

We broke again. Eyes searching each other's. I tried to speak, but the electricity of the kiss shocked me tight. Alicia was gasping. A guilty smile played across her lips.

Then she scampered into the darkness.

*

At breakfast, the mess hall was over full of noisy campers and coffee-starved counselors, so I took my tray of food outside. There was a large wooden deck out there, leading from the hall to the administration building -- an old, Victorian-style house that had been converted into working offices.

I sat on the steps in the wan, New England sunrise. Stared out dumbly as my oatmeal went lukewarm. The heat of the nighttime kiss burned everything else from my mind. What we'd done, it was beyond wrong. Half my job was keeping the kids separate from their hormones. And as a counselor, being with a camper -- even an 18-year-old one -- could get me fired or even worse. The fact that the camper was also my sister...

All I could think about was kissing her again.

I felt Alicia slide down next me. Her own bowl of oatmeal similarly untouched. She reached over and squeezed my hand. We didn't say anything. Even after Alicia walked away, I had to sit on the deck, covering my groin with my tray, hoping no one would notice until I calmed down. It was a long wait.

*

I was running swim lessons for the ten-year-olds down at the lake. I stood on the long, metal dock while the kids did their best to flounder through the backstroke. Some of the older campers were also there on their own time, swimming out deeper where the water slipped from brownish green to sort of bluish. Alicia was out there with them. She had on a navy one-piece, nothing special. I struggled to keep an eye on my campers.

Kerry, a tall brunette who was about my age, tapped me on the shoulder. A horde of eleven-year-old girls waited behind her. I stepped forward to give her room to pass me, but she just stayed there and smiled.

"Looking good out there," Kerry said. I'd never heard a California accent before, but she sure had one. It made everything she said sound like a question. Looking good out there?

I tried to come back with a smart response, but she'd caught me spacing and I couldn't trace my way back down to Earth. Kerry was wearing a bright red one piece that demanded better attention than I'd provided. I knew a lot of the counselors (male and female) had a thing for her and she clearly expected no less of me.

Kerry saw the look of confusion on my face, then smiled and pointed down to the boys. As if that explained anything. "They're really improving -- you're a great teacher." She winked at me and led her campers to the other side of the lakeshore. I stared after her, no closer to coherence than before.

I felt a hard bump at the dock. When I looked down, I saw Alicia pulling herself out of the water. Droplets glistened on her pale skin. My sister had the face and body of a little girl, but she was definitely a

woman

with pointing breasts and wide hips. They were all just little, like the rest of her.

"She likes you," Alicia said, slapping me casually on the thigh.

"Who?" I asked.

"Who," Alicia repeated and sighed.

"Doesn't matter," I said.

We stood there together, not talking or even looking at each other. I swore I felt Alicia's fingers tickle at mine for a moment. Then the dock shook as my sister leapt back into the lake.

*

After the boys were in bed, I snuck out to the tents. I told myself that I was doing my sister a favor: she could get in trouble wandering around after bedtime. As a counselor, I was allowed -- even expected sometimes -- to be up and about at that hour. The truth was, I just couldn't bear the thought of lying in my bunkbed, waiting for Alicia to come get me.

I found my sister's tent near the back of the clearing and snuck under the flap.

This

on the other hand, was absolutely not allowed. I didn't even notice the three other girls sleeping there -- I went straight to my sister. She was already wide awake, smiling at me.

The clearing here was way too public, so instead we tiptoed back behind the tents and into the thick of the forest. The heavy smell of pine wafted over us. Crickets sang our arrival.

"We shouldn't be doing this," my sister said. We did it anyway.

In seconds we were wrapped in each other. Arms hands lips. Tongues. I kissed down my little sister's neck. Licked at the hollow of her shoulder. Lifted her tiny, dark t-shirt over her head. Alicia kept kissing me.

I reached down and cupped my sister's little tits in my hands. Not even a handful. Nipples stiff against my palm. I trailed my mouth down and took her peachy breast past my lips. My sister gasped. Her arms tightened around me.

I felt her own hands trace down my flanks to my shorts. She squeezed at my hardness through the cloth. Rubbed it up and back. I groaned over her nipple but didn't stop suckling. The wet smacks of lips on flesh. Heavy, hungry panting. The rustle of clothes. There was no other sound but us.

Later, I limped back to the cabins. My erection stuck out like it was leading the way. I lightly smacked my lips against each other, chapped from all our kissing. I replayed every memory, trying to embed them in my brain like fossils in amber.

*

Alicia and I perched on the steps outside the mess hall again, eating our breakfasts in silence. The morning rose cool and we were both bundled up in hoodies and long pants.

Bruce, the older guitar guy counselor, came over and pointedly sat between us. He was wearing a red t-shirt that had faded to pink. His long dark beard and oversized aviator sunglasses did their best to hide his sunburned cheeks. He smelled of old cigarettes and freshly smoked pot.

We made small talk for a bit -- is that an oriole or a robin? -- then Alicia skipped off to the soccer fields. Bruce stayed seated right next to me.

"You need to watch yourself," he said, still staring off somewhere distant. His voice rumbled and scorched. "You're a counselor. She's a camper."

"She's my sister," I said, threading the shock into my voice. It was becoming a tired argument.

"Uh huh," Bruce said. He got up and walked away.

*

We were out on the softball field, letting the kids hit. Devon was pitching -- laying in fat, slow meatballs and letting the ten-year-olds take huge rips at them. I hung back in left, mostly just watching the campers chase flies.

The sun was beating down and I could barely see through my sweat. That's how it goes in New Hampshire summers: so cold in the morning you could wear winter clothes, so hot in the afternoon you'd streak naked.

Then Devon threw a particularly juicy one to a particularly huge kid (he had the beginnings of a mustache; I'm not even joking) and he launched it to the moon. The ball arced high over my head, right past the tree line, and landed somewhere beyond. I watched it go, hands on my knees, and shook my head. We only had three balls. We'd be missing that one the rest of the summer if I didn't chase it down.

"I've got it," I called to Devon. He waved his thanks and started pitching to the next kid.

The high grass scratched at my calves as I walked off the softball field, avoiding the older kids playing soccer the next field over. The ball had clearly gone past the trees that marked the edge of the grounds, so I went past those.

I found myself on a tiny maintenance trail. I could see the small shack where they kept all the mowing equipment about a quarter of a mile down the road. Even though the far side of the trees was filled with screaming kids, here it was eerily quiet.

The road was hard packed dirt and sharp, gray stones. The white softball stood out easily, leaning against a shock of green grass. I bent down to pick it up, half expecting to find a dent on one side. I felt a hand grab my ass.

I stood up and spun around. There was Alicia, smiling demurely. Hands crossed behind her back. How was it that she kept popping up everywhere I went?

"I saw you from the soccer field," my sister said, still grinning all innocent. "Thought you could use the help."

I held up the softball like I'd gotten the golden idol. Alicia shoved my hands away, then pushed her lips to mine. Just that touch, I felt like I could sink into my sister. Like she could surround me, safe. Complete.

I reached down and squeezed Alicia's tight, little buns. Pulled her groin up to rub against mine. My sister pressed her mound against my hardness. We shared the same ache. Kissing, grinding, both of us edging forward despite the heat, the layers of clothes, the physical impossibility that came with doing this while standing. It didn't matter. Only my sister mattered.

The bell gonged in the distance. End of the period. We reluctantly pulled apart, both too close to really stop. Too far to go much further, at least not on a road that was only a few thin trees away from reality.

I stumbled back out onto the softball field, red faced and sweaty, missing softball in hand.

"Geez, where did you go?" Devon asked me as I approached, "We've been calling after you forever."

"That ball... was really hard... to find," I said, still gasping for the breath my sister had stolen from me.

"You look like you were chasing a bear," Devon said.

"It wasn't a bear," I said.

*

During the day, we only rarely slipped off like that. But every night, Alicia and I met in the forest behind the tents. Every time the stars came out, I slipped out of my cabin and searched for my little sis.

"This is so wrong," Alicia said. We kept walking, deeper this time, to where trees were all I could see.

We picked up like we'd never paused. My sister shirtless. Her little, pink plums in my palms. Her arms were around my head. Nose buried in my hair. I kissed a meandering line back up to my sister's lips, still holding her breasts like I'd drown without them.

CRUNCH

I spun my head around. It sounded like a boot on dry leaves. Did I hear a twig snap? I looked frantically for the source of what I swore was a footstep. I listened for another sound. Nothing.

Then I felt my sister dip her hands under my shorts and it was all forgotten. We groaned together as her cool little hands slipped around my burning, bare cock for the first time. No tentative, teasing touch -- Alicia rubbed me back and forth. Pumping and stroking. Clumsy but how could I care?

Whatever I'd worried about before was long gone. Holding one breast in hand, I slid my other down Alicia's flat, bare stomach and past her own bottoms. I felt a small patch of wiry hair and then nothing but seeping warm wetness. I found her little nubbin -- God, it wasn't hard to find -- and started rubbing hard. Matched my sister's urgency.