Lake Emerald Chronicles: The First Summer: A Reverse Harem Romance Read online

  ‘Ahaha!’

  I fake laugh.

  ‘So very funny! I am Clary, you dip-shit!’

  He laughs again.

  ‘Oh now, now, Tessa! Is this a name to call your most recent friend?’

  He taunts.

  My eyes almost pop out of my head out of anger.

  ‘We are most certainly not friends!’

  I bellow.

  ‘But of course we are! You said it before that your friends call you Clary and we definitely went from Clarissa to Clary, so I take it you’d like to be friends.’

  ‘You wish!’

  I scoff.

  ‘I don’t even know you!’

  He laughs again with what I just decided is the most irritating sound in the whole world.

  ‘You don’t know me but you definitely like me...’

  ‘I most certainly don’t like you!’

  I protest.

  ‘Hmm, so I have to assume that you put your face in every new acquaintance’s crotch? Duly noted!’

  ‘You, you...whatever!’

  I blurt, unable to find an expletive that conveys enough how much I dislike him. I fish for my headphones in my purse and put them on, ignoring him for the remainder of the flight.

  Nothing, not even this jerk can ruin my first day of summer camp.

  2.

  Friends again

  I manage to ignore douche bag for the rest of the flight and as soon as I come out of the baggage area into the arrivals, I hear Hazel’s excited squeal.

  She wraps me in a huge hug, her blue eyes flashing with happiness and excitement.

  ‘Oh my god, you have no idea how much I missed you!’

  She screams squeezing me tighter and jumping up and down at the same time.

  ‘I missed you too...’

  I choke, squeezing back.

  We find our taxi and I sigh, settling in the back seat and adjusting my sun glasses.

  ‘Let me call my mom, she insisted I call the moment we got into the cab and if I don’t do it, I won’t hear the end of it until Christmas.’

  She laughs making a comment about my mom being unchanged.

  The phone call doesn’t last long, fortunately she is in the office and I know she’s preparing for some big trial, so she reminds me to behave only once and once I drop my phone back in my purse, I smile giddy with anticipation: the first day of camp is always the best, when we have the whole summer ahead, full of promises, when we see our old friends after a whole year and we meet the new people and decide, often in a few seconds, who we like and who we don’t.

  Hazel and I spend most of the car ride discussing the situation between me and Brie and I reassure her that I will apologise to her, that while I don’t think I am completely at fault, I see how she could have gotten hurt by my behaviour.

  The 3 hour ride goes in the blink of an eye and before we know it, we are at camp Lake Emerald: the best vacation place on earth.

  The taxi driver leaves us at the entrance with our suitcases and we make our way towards the reception area.

  ‘Oh my gosh! Who are these gorgeous young ladies?’

  Mrs. Angela, the camp owner greets us with a big collective hug.

  ‘This year you have your favourite cabin, number 17. Do you need any help with your bags, girlies?’

  We reassure her that we’ll be just fine and make our way through the woodsy area, towards our cabin.

  Now, calling it cabin might give one the wrong idea: these are more like cute bungalows and each cabin sleeps only 4 people with its own private bathroom in each suite and a lovely porch that wraps around the whole little building.

  Once upon a time, it used to be the classic summer camp you see in the movies with 12 girls sleeping on bunk beds in each cabin but then they revamped it completely and now it looks more like the resort in Dirty Dancing: there’s a club house, a restaurant where we eat all our meals, a pool, a new spa, an arcade centre and a theatre and arts centre.

  Also we have lake Emerald with a variety of sports available like swimming, kayaking and much more.

  We deposit our cases near the wardrobe area: the cabin features 2 bedrooms and Hazel and I have decided to share one. We wonder who will be occupying the second bedroom.

  When I get to the bed nearest to the window, I find the parcel I managed to send myself last week: I hug the box with a satisfied sigh.

  ‘What’s in there, chickadee?’

  Hazel asks eyeing it curiously.

  I explain to her that my mom was “helping me” pack my bags, vetting all my clothes to make sure I only took stuff that was appropriate, in other words to make sure I dressed like a 55 year old librarian.

  ‘So, I used all my birthday money to buy new, nicer clothes and send them here, ready for the summer! I don’t really need to even unpack my suitcase, except for shoes!’

  I explain collapsing on the bed with my arms spread out and moving my arms and legs as if I was doing a snow angel on the plush comforter.

  ‘Wow, you are an evil genius! I would have never thought about this! How did you go shopping, did she finally allow you to get a driving license?’

  Of course not! I scoff at her explaining that a driving license would give me a level of freedom that in my family would be inconceivable.

  ‘No, thank God for online shopping and for my mom being always at work: I managed to order everything and even arranged the mail man to pick up the stuff that I needed to return. All undetected by the maternal authority.’

  ‘Wow, you really thought of everything!’

  ‘Nothing will stop this summer from being the best ever!’

  I promise, hugging Hazel.

  ‘Especially since you got the best roommate ever, hotties!’

  A voice shrieks from the room’s threshold and there she is: Brie, in all her glory with flowing jet black hair, a tan I can only dream about with my complexion and a new, shiny nose stud.

  She enters the room and jumps on my bed with a squeal, hugging me and Hazel and making us giggle with her grand entrance!

  ‘Oh my god!’

  She squeals in awe.

  ‘You got boobs! Like major, legit, don’t need a padded bra, boobs!’

  The statement is accompanied by her hands reaching for and squeezing said boobs.

  Hazel laughs.

  ‘You never change Brie! You are crazy.’

  ‘And you, look like you have lost weight, Hazel!’

  Hazel has lots of hang ups with her body, like every teenager, we all do, but hers are centred mostly on her curvy figure.

  ‘So, Brie, which cabin are you in?’

  Hazel asks.

  ‘Which cabin could I be in? But this one, of course! Are you girls sleeping in this room?’

  ‘Is that ok?’

  Hazel asks.

  ‘Sure. Hopefully we either don’t get a 4th occupant or she’s not a mega bitch...’

  Muses Brie. I clear my voice and they both look at me expectantly. I have always believed in ripping the band aid in one go, so here goes my apology.

  ‘Brie, babe, I just wanted to say... before the summer starts... About last year with the whole Matt thing... I am so sorry if I hurt you. He’s cute and all but not my type and in all fairness, regardless of which type is my type... I should never have kissed him. I promise it didn’t mean anything and I am so very, very sorry...’

  My words are accompanied by the twisting of my hands and I don’t really dare look at her in the eyes.

  ‘It’s all forgotten, seriously!’

  She says launching herself on top of me with a strangling hug.

  ‘I was really mad at you at first, I won’t lie. But then I rationalised that it was just a dare and the real reason I was mad was Ella. And I was mad at Matt, not you.’

  Both Hazel and I release the breath we had been holding since we arrived at camp about half an hour ago. Brie must notice because she laughs and adds:

  ‘But no kissing any boy I call dibs on or I am dating or
I will end you both. Understood?’

  We both nod quietly and she says, jumping on her feet:

  ‘Well, shall we go to the clubhouse and see who’s there? Angela told me that they have some new sports instructors this year and that a certain guy who has just turned 18 is going to be a life guard at the lake...’

  She says looking at me and wiggling her eyebrows allusively. She’s obviously referring to Joel: only Hazel and Brie know about my hopeless crush on him and my attempts to get noticed last summer which amounted to absolutely nothing.

  ‘Yeah, I wouldn’t really hold my breath on this one, Brie. He doesn’t even know I exist.’

  ‘But this year you got boobs...’

  She objects as if boobs were the answer to womankind’s problems.

  When I roll my eyes, she giggles.

  ‘Also, Angela told me that Logan was here already...’

  Her eyebrows wiggle again and I gasp.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, not that pest!’

  Logan is a little blonde kid, about a year younger than us, who was following me everywhere last summer like a sick love puppy and wouldn’t get the hint that I wasn’t into future high school freshmen. I seriously hope not to have the same problem this year too.

  ‘Do you remember his “cool comb”?’

  Asks Hazel almost chocking with laughter.

  I roll my eyes again: Logan kept his hair long and kept whipping this plastic comb out of his pocket to fix it, thinking that made him and by association the comb, really cool.

  We walk the short distance to the clubhouse and I straighten my dress and make sure my hair is ok before walking in the rustic room. Well, rustic as a decor: it tries to mimic a mountain lodge but you can see the expensive dark wood furniture and the plush couches and chairs have nothing rustic about them, neither have the all around floor to ceiling windows and patio doors with a stunning view of the lake.

  I spot Joel as soon as I enter the room: he’s taller than last year and his blond hair covers his eye on one side where it’s a bit longer. He shakes his head to move the offending hair out of the way and his dark blue eyes fix on me but he’s staring through me as if I was transparent; he’s talking to a tall, slim brunette and he’s wearing a white t-shirt and navy blue shorts.

  Now, I could go on for ages about how that t-shirt stretches across his shoulders, how you can see his biceps bulging out and he’s not even flexing. How his washboard abs can almost be seen where the t-shirt clings to his stomach. The brunette must say something funny because he laughs and I see a flash of his perfect white teeth... He is a god, totally and utterly perfect, there’s nothing else to say to it. And I know I am not the only girl who feels this way, because every summer, he’s got countless flings with all the hottest girls at camp.

  I heard a rumour that he’s got a serious girlfriend at home in San Francisco but if he does, they must be on a break for the summer because I have never seen Joel not chasing or being chased by a girl.

  I seriously don’t know what I would give to be noticed by him, for a kiss. The only thought makes heat rush to my face and my knees feel like jelly but the harsh reality of things is that he has always been hanging with the cool crowd, the oldest kids and the camp counsellors.

  And while I am 16 this summer and as Brie likes to say, I have legit boobs, I am not the cool, cheerleader type, which is totally the type he goes for.

  At my school I go mostly unnoticed: I have great grades but I wouldn’t say that I am a nerd; I just don’t fit into any clique or stereotype, I have a few closer friends and I mostly blend in the background.

  I must have totally spaced out because everything goes black when a pair of large, smooth hands cover my eyes and a deep voice I don’t recognise says:

  ‘Guess Who?’

  Now, it must be the excitement of the first day of summer camp but I have a weird, uncontrolled reaction to the boy who’s got his hands on my eyes: the first thing that hits me is his masculine scent, something like vanilla and cotton candy.

  He must be quite tall because I feel his chest against the back of my head and he must be quite muscular because it’s a hard chest.

  I cover his hands with mine trying to move them off but he doesn’t budge and a deep laugh shakes his whole body and I get covered in goosebumps when he squeezes me a bit closer and his lips get very close to my ear, his warm breath fanning on my skin and the smell of sugar and cinnamon invading my nostrils.

  ‘You seriously don’t know who I am?’

  He breaths into my ear and then releases me and turns me around slowly.

  Wait a second: who the heck is he? I find myself staring into a baby blue coloured pair or eyes, not as dark as Joel’s but vibrant and intense, with tiny silver flecks that I can see because he’s holding me dangerously close to him.

  He’s got blonde hair, short on the sides and slightly longer on top. He’s well over 6 feet tall and he must spend lots of time in the gym because while he’s slender, he’s very, very well built.

  His lips are luscious and full and when he smiles and makes a bit of a funny face, it just hits me:

  ‘Logan?’

  I almost choke. I mean, that smile... I remember how annoying it was when he followed me everywhere last year but Logan was shorter than me and skinny and now this guy looks like a young Chad Michael Murray with a touch of Scott Eastwood just for good measure.

  ‘At your service, my lady...’

  He jokingly bows down and then grabs my hand and brings it to his lips.

  Where do I start? My legs almost buck and I have to use all my will power to try and keep a shred of dignity. But the brief, fleeting contact of his lips with my skin is doing things to me that don’t quite reconcile with little, pain in the ass Logan.

  I know I blush easily and I absolutely hate it and judging by the rush of heat I feel to my cheeks, I must be as lit as the Christmas tree in the Rockefeller centre.

  And my traitorous skin is covered in goosebumps as if the temperature had suddenly dropped 10 degrees while I feel really hot at the same time.

  He doesn’t let go of my hand and flashes me another room illuminating smile: there’s another thing that is different about him, his braces are gone and boy if his mouth looks yummy.

  He’s doing things to me that I wasn’t prepared to feel, not for Logan, that’s for sure: I have always compared him to my little brother even if in reality, he’s only 6 months younger than me.

  ‘Hi... It’s nice to see you...’

  I say staring at his hand which still holds mine.

  ‘Did you seriously not recognise me?’

  What can I say, that he went from little smelly frog to yummy, delicious prince with Hollywood star good looks in the space of a year, so no, I didn’t recognise him? I bite my tongue for once and keep my sarcasm at bay, which isn’t that hard considering that I have to use all my might to keep breathing while he’s holding my hand and staring at me with those cloudless sky coloured eyes.

  ‘No, you look different...’

  I state the obvious.

  ‘What she means is that you look fucking hot!’

  Trust Brie to tell it how it is.

  He fortunately finds it funny and laughs at it, still holding my hands and I almost think the awkward moment has passed when he looks straight in my eyes, his blue ones darkening just a touch and says:

  ‘You would have recognised me if you had accepted my friend requests on Facebook and Instagram...’

  He says it matter of factly and with a touch of disappointment in his deep voice.

  I know, I know, I will sound like a proper bitch admitting that the first thing I am going to do as soon as I have any internet connection is to accept his friend requests and stalk the hell out of him on all possible social media. Yes, now that he’s hot, I will not be embarrassed by being seen with him.

  He must read my mind because he smiles.

  ‘I hope this year you won’t mind me following you everywhere, because I plan
to...’

  And then, just like that, while my stomach does a flip right into my mouth, he lets go of my hand when someone slaps him on the back and says:

  ‘Hey buddy! Long time no see!’

  And they launch into one of those complicated hand shakes that guys do that last a few minutes and almost look like a dance routine.

  The guy in question is Paul, a dark haired, green eyed guy from Texas who’s had Hazel crushing on him at the end of last summer. He’s the same age as Logan and while Hazel found him incredibly cute, I reckon that he wasn’t really into girls. Not sure if because he’s into guys or because he simply wasn’t interested in girls that way yet, because he was always playing soccer or basketball or swimming and kayaking at the lake.

  Now that Logan is distracted, I turn around with the intention of getting myself a drink and having a look around the room but I hit a wall as soon as I turn and I would be crashing on the ground if two strong hands didn’t keep me upright.

  ‘We have to stop meeting this way...Or should I say that you have to stop throwing yourself at me?’

  I lift my gaze not believing to what I am hearing: the most annoying voice on the entire planet.

  And surely enough, my eyes stare into a pair of sarcastic green/ turquoise eyes and go a little down to find an arrogant smirk to go with the rest of the annoying package.

  It’s the guy from airport.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  I ask in disbelief, trying to shake free from his grasp but he doesn’t budge.

  ‘Now, now, Tessa... Is this the way to greet an old friend?’

  I fight hard not to raise my voice and seethe:

  ‘For the 8th bajillion time, my name’s not Tessa. It’s Clarissa! And now I would just love it if you let me go!’

  Of course he doesn’t and his smirk only grows wider.

  ‘We need to work on your way to show gratitude. It’s the second time today that I save you from smacking that pretty face of yours to the ground and you thank me by yelling at me...’

  He says pretty like an insult and I take it as such.

  ‘Let me go, you stupid caveman!’

  Now I am slightly raising my voice but this guy is the most infuriating douche bag I have ever met.