Free The Season of You & Me by Robin Constantine Page A

looked like you were in a folding chair. I didn’t really see your wheels until I was right here. That’s weird to say, isn’t it. Please stop me before I stay something else stupid.”
    He smiled—the same friendly, laid-back grin he’d given me from his car that night we met at Crescent Beach.
    “So you survived your first week,” Bryan said.
    “Yeah, how about you?”
    “Piece of cake, but I’m ready for the weekend.”
    “Tell me about it,” I said. “Any plans?”
    He shook his head. “Nothing big. Some of us are gettingtogether right after this at Sip N’ Freeze a few blocks over. You should come.”
    “Sip N’ Freeze? Let me guess, ice cream?”
    “They have thirty-two flavors of slush too. Pretzels. Me,” he said. “It’s not strictly about the ice cream. It’s mostly to talk about whoever doesn’t show up.”
    “Sounds fun, but I can’t—I’m babysitting tonight.”
    “Babysitting? After a week of this, that’s hard-core, Cass,” he said.
    “That’s me, hard-core.”
    A cheer went up as Mr. Beckett arrived. He raised his hands for us to quiet down.
    “What an awesome first week of camp. Thank you, guys, for being so enthusiastic and thank you for staying after. For starters, I’d like you all to go around quick and introduce yourselves with an adjective that begins with the same letter as your first name.”
    Groans.
    “Guys, really, I won’t keep you long; the sooner we get through the corny ice breakers, the sooner you’ll be on to your weekend. Promise. We’re a team, and knowing each other’s names is important. The alliteration will help you remember—I swear, there’s a purpose. I’ll start—hey, I’m Optimistic Owen.”
    Just let me die. Now.
    My mind went blank. White noise . An adjective that began with the letter C ?
    Cool? Crazy? Corny? Catty? I didn’t want to be known as catty . Maybe everyone had played this game before, because my turn seemed to be coming up way, way too quickly. I didn’t imagine Nick would come up with something that fast. Think. Think. Think, Cass.
    “Notorious Nick.”
    Even he had a good one.
    “Trendy Tori.”
    “Warped Wade.”
    “Badass Bryan.”
    All eyes were on me. Deer in the freakin’ headlights. C is for cookie . . . oh damn. I cleared my throat, my brain desperately searching for an adjective.
    “Um . . . Catastrophic Cassidy?”
    Mr. Beckett grinned. “Is that a warning?”
    Laughter. My cheeks burned, but thankfully it was over.
    After everyone had been introduced, Optimistic Owen went over a few basic camp procedures—policies for drop-off, that cell phones could be used only during breaks and in emergency situations, discipline issues. It was pretty basic, mostly like school, but with goofy polo shirts and a paycheck.
    “And one last thing,” he said, holding up a stack of paper. “This year’s scavenger-hunt clues. Take one as you leave, or if it’s easier you can download it from the rec center website. If you’re not familiar—each year we run a scavenger hunt for the counselors. Yes, more team building, but with prizes. I promise,guys, this is a good one. Once you guess all the answers correctly, each word will be a hint toward what the grand prize is. The only way you can enter is to answer everything. And the only way you can win is if those answers are right. Work in teams of two. If you need a partner, let me know, I can hook you up,” he said, eyes directly on me. Great. That’s what I got for calling myself Catastrophic Cass. Wade leaned over to me.
    “Cassidy, wanna partner up?” he asked. I doubted he heard the word no much. I probably should have been grateful—maybe he was just being nice, but I noticed Tori was casually watching our convo unfold. My allegiance was to her, and if turning down green eyes kept me in her good graces, then I’d do it. I also didn’t want to make the Sugar Rush Nate mistake again. If Bryan was dating someone, then he wouldn’t be looking for a hookup. He was