Pucked Up (Pucked 2)

Made it 2 the camp. How ru?Forgot my charger :( hav 2 go 2 town 2 get 1Fuck. This isn’t good. I don’t bother with messaging. I hit her contact and call right away. She picks up on the second ring. The connection is full of static.

“Hey, sweets.”

“Miller! I don’t have much battery left.”

“That’s okay. I wanted to make sure you made it up there all right.”

“You’re sweet. The drive was great! Kale and Benji are making a fire, and me and Lily are in charge of dinner.”

It’s like a double date out in the middle of nowhere. The only good thing is the lack of shower options. I’m hoping Sunny also forgot deodorant and soap so she gets ripe fast. Knowing Kale, that would probably be an aphrodisiac. I bet he showers once a month.

“We won’t get to town for a couple of days. I’ll try to message from Lily’s phone, but her reception is almost as bad as mine.”

“That sucks. I was hoping for daily updates.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Miller. I’ll message as soon as I get a new charger. I still have to let my parents know I’m here, so I should go before my phone dies.” The crackling on the line makes it almost impossible to hear her.

“Okay. Be careful up there. When I see you next I think we should talk—”

Her shriek forces me to pull the phone away from my ear. “Kale! Stop it! I’m on the phone with Miller! Put me down—”

The call drops; beep-beep-beeping is the last thing I get.

I stare at the blank screen, a hot feeling creeping up the back of my neck. If I was on the ice right now, I’d probably get myself a penalty. I feel like I might be getting fucked around, and I don’t like it.

This is going to be a long, shitty week of wondering.CHAPTER FOURTEEN

BIG BALLSRandy manages to keep his dick in his pants for the first two days, which is a miracle. There are way more counselors than I’m used to, probably because the kids require more supervision and assistance. At least I have Randy as my shield against the female senior counselors, which are in abundant supply thanks to the neighboring girls’ camp. They aren’t bunnies, but they’re equally as interested in getting up close and personal.

I thought the Sunny wallpaper on my phone would function as a deterrent, but I discover that girls like guys who have pictures of their girlfriend on their phones. At first I think they’re hitting on me, but then I realize they want to be my friend. Girls are funny about the whole being friends with a guy business. They’re flirty, and overly touchy, but there’s no expectation that I’m going to find an empty cabin and show them what I can do with my lightning rod. It’s like having a whole bunch of sisters like Vi who engage in the overshare.

Randy has the exact opposite issue. Once it becomes clear he doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s fair game. It’s like watching turkey vultures fight over a carcass on the highway. They’ll peck each other’s eyes out to get to him.

By the morning of day three, I still haven’t heard from Sunny. Between coaching sessions and games with the kids, I check her social media accounts, but there’s nothing new apart from a picture posted on the first day—not by her or Lily, but by Patchy Bushman. The four of them have their arms wrapped around each other, standing in front of the camping trailer-van, being all happy together. I get it better now more than ever why she reacted the way she did to those bunny pics. Bushman has his arm around Sunny. I want to rip it off and beat him with it, but I also know that things aren’t always the way they look. Unfortunately, I’m also aware that sometimes they’re exactly how they look.

The longer I don’t hear from her, the more pissy I get. I know they’re all friends, but this doesn’t seem much different than the shit she gets upset at me over.

I combat the happy, smiley picture with multiple pics of me and Sunny from our weekend at her place. Even though I’m annoyed, I message her every day with little updates. The reception up here isn’t the greatest unless I’m in the mess hall or by the water where there aren’t as many trees obstructing the signal. This means I have to type most of my messages. I won’t use the voice-to-text thing in front of other people. Some of what I have to text is private.

I’d get Randy to check the spelling, but I don’t want him to razz me about it. I’d vet them through my PA like I sometimes do, but she’s still out in the middle of the wilderness, so it’s not an option.