Chapter Text
Toni is spineless.
It’s the only justification she has for letting Martha talk her into this. Well, that and that she’s broke as fuck and wants money to afford alcohol and weed for the three or so weeks of summer she won’t be stuck in the hellhole that is Camp Sunny Lake.
It’s the summer before their senior year of college and Toni is stuck working as a camp counselor for six weeks. There are several things wrong with this. Firstly, she hates summer camps. Secondly, she hates children. And thirdly, she hates the other camp counselors. Well, most of them, anyway.
They’re all her age, give or take a couple of years, and there are sixteen of them in total: eight women and eight men. Toni keeps her distance from the boys and hates them by default, but as far as the girls go, she’s liked Fatin and Dot for about two days now, ever since they snuck out to the woods by the lake with a couple of joints and invited Toni along, and Leah’s alright because at least she mostly keeps her mouth shut. But Rachel’s too competitive, and so is Toni, so they’ve been clashing a little, and Nora’s Rachel’s sister so Toni dislikes her a little purely by association.
But Shelby Goodkind is the worst.
It’s been four days and Toni has wanted to strangle her since about ten minutes in, when she’d greeted the elementary-school-aged campers with a cheery smile and a southern twang: “Welcome to Camp Sunny Lake, where there’s never a shortage of sun or fun!”
It’s the line they’d been directed to deliver, but God, have some dignity.
Toni’s loathing had been cemented that evening, when she’d been showering off after leading a bunch of brats along a mountain path for two hours and Shelby had entered the shower directly next to hers and then began a rendition of some Jesus freak song Toni’d had to google the lyrics to discover was called “In Christ Alone”.
She’s stuck with this bitch for six weeks and it already seems likely that only one of them is going to make it out alive.
Worst of all, Martha actually likes her, for some insane reason.
On the morning of day four, Toni feels herself being shaken awake in the cabin she has to herself, and when she grumbles and rolls over, she squints out at blonde hair and hears that southern accent tell her, “Up and at ‘em, Toni; you forgot to set your alarm again. They sent me to wake you up.”
“Am I in hell?” Toni mumbles up at her, and Shelby’s hand finds her wrist and then pulls her up into a sitting position. The blanket covering Toni slips down to her waist. Toni sleeps naked.
“Oh, Lord,” Shelby gasps out, and then she releases Toni immediately and turns away. “I am so sorry.”
“Did you just see my boobs?” Toni asks her groggily, rubbing at her eyes to try to fully wake up.
“I didn’t realize,” Shelby rushes to explain, and Toni sighs and rolls her eyes behind Shelby’s back, then lets out a loud yawn.
“Whatever. Can you get out now before you see my vagina, too? I wouldn’t want to traumatize your heterosexual Christian eyes.”
Shelby glances over her shoulder hastily at that, her mouth opening like she wants to argue, but then she catches a glimpse of Toni again and swiftly turns around. “Well, you just can’t be late every day. Your kids will be stuck waiting in the dining hall for you.”
“Tell them to send Martha to wake me up next time,” Toni says.
“Why?”
Toni blinks at her back. “Because I don’t like you.”
“…Oh.” Toni’s surprised to hear that Shelby sounds a little hurt; she’s very obviously some sort of southern Christian conservative type, and Toni’s, well… it’s kind of obvious, and so Toni had assumed the dislike was mutual. “I guess I’ll go, then,” Shelby mumbles, and Toni actually feels a little bad for a second after she leaves.
An hour later, they’re paired up to lead a canoeing outing on the lake and Toni’s guilt is long forgotten.
“Alright, guys, let’s get those paddles in the water! Do we all have our life jackets on? Remember, the most important thing is that we’re bein’ safe.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Toni groans from the canoe she’s sharing with an eight-year-old named Hannah, who turns and looks up at her with wide eyes.
“My mom says fuck is a bad word,” she says, and when Toni looks over at Shelby, Shelby’s staring back at the both of them like she’s mildly unsettled. Toni puts a hand over Hannah’s mouth and smiles thinly at Shelby.
“Kids. I don’t know where they pick up some of this shit.”
“Swear jar, swear jar!” several other children start chanting cheerfully nearby, because there’s one in the main office and Shelby, of course, has been the most adamant about enforcing it, and Toni prods at the nearest canoe with her paddle until it tips and sends the two chanting children inside sliding into the water with high-pitched screams. When they surface, they’re laughing, thankfully, and Toni shrugs her shoulders at Shelby, who looks at Toni with horror.
“This is not the right job for you,” Shelby says.
“It pays thirteen dollars an hour and I need weed money.”
“What’s a weed?” Hannah interjects.
“They’re bad plants,” Shelby supplies hastily, before Toni can give her the real answer. “Toni likes to garden.”
“It relaxes me,” Toni agrees, and she almost thinks she sees a hint of a smile on Shelby’s lips before Shelby twists away and starts paddling in another direction.
“Alright, campers, it’s a sunny day at Sunny Lake, so let’s start usin’ those paddles and have some fun before we run out of daylight!” Shelby calls out, and Toni scowls and then watches the two children she’d knocked into the water try to pull themselves back up into their canoe, slip off, and totally eat shit all over again. It cheers her up a little.
After lunch is more hiking, and Toni thankfully gets paired up with Martha this time. They lead their groups along the trail, doing head counts every ten minutes as they go, and Toni complains, “I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to make it through six weeks of this shit, Marty.”
“Swear jar, swear jar—!”
“Shut the fuck up.” Toni wrenches her gaze from a group of slightly terrified children and glares at Martha instead. “See? These brats are driving me nuts.”
“Toni, I think you could at least make a little bit more of an effort,” Martha sighs out.
“I’m making an effort,” Tony replies, defensive.
“You’ve slept in late twice now and we’ve only been here for four days, the only time I’ve seen you smile was that time two of Rachel’s kids collided during that game with the blindfolds, and if Shelby actually fully enforced the swear jar you’d owe more money than you’ve earned.”
“Don’t defend Shelby,” Toni says, looking at her with disgust. “She’s unbearable.”
“Why, because she’s actually having a good time? I think it’s kind of nice that she’s trying.”
“Uh, I could do that sh—” Toni gives a sidelong glance to the nervous children trailing behind her, “—crap, too. It’s a bunch of phony cheerleader bull—BS.” Toni widens her eyes comically and claps her hands together, faking a bright smile. “Okay, campers, let’s get into your bunks for the night and have a great sleep so we can wake up tomorrow and start the day fresh! Literally kill me.”
“You could’ve spent the morning paired up with one of the boys instead,” Martha reminds her. “At least Shelby’s hot.”
Toni snorts. “Shelby is not hot.” Martha stares at her expectantly, and Toni suddenly won’t meet her eyes. “She’s not that hot.” Martha just keeps staring, and Toni heaves a sigh. “Okay, fine. But as it turns out, the whole southern Baptist homophobe thing is kind of a turn-off, so.”
“She’s homophobic? Did she say something?”
“She doesn’t have to,” Toni insists. “It’s like a whole vibe; they’re all like that. She’s probably a virgin, too.”
“What’s a virgin?” Hannah asks from somewhere behind her, and Toni gives Martha a silent look begging her to take this one.
“A drink that… tastes good.” Martha shrugs at Toni, who snorts at her again.
“That was pathetic.”
“I remembered too late that I can’t talk about alcohol, either,” Martha whispers.
“Can’t talk about it, but tonight we’re drinking it,” Toni singsongs quietly. “I’ve heard Fatin’s hooking us up.”
Toni catches up with Fatin after her shower, who informs her that after their supervisors and the camp director have gone to sleep the girls are planning to sneak out to the campfire near the woods and drink together. Toni waits it out in her bed until after eleven o’clock, then catches up with Martha at her cabin, and together they walk out to the fire they can already see Fatin tending to. Dot’s next to her, holding one of several bottles of rum, and she greets them with a slurred, “Hey!” and offers a whole bottle to Toni. Leah’s already there, too, drinking alone on the other side of the fire and staring into the flames like her mind is completely somewhere else. Toni gives her a strange look and doesn’t bother her.
“Is this everyone?” Martha asks them, and Fatin shakes her head.
“Rachel and Nora said they’d be out in a bit, and Shelby’s just finishing something up in her cabin. Everyone’s coming.”
“Shelby?” Toni echoes, surprised. “Isn’t this against the rules?”
“Guess she’s got a rebellious side,” Dot jokes, and Toni shakes her head dismissively and then chokes down a couple of gulps of the rum, then hands the bottle over to Martha.
An hour later, all eight of them are sitting on logs around the fire, laughing drunkenly together and slurring their speech, and much to Toni’s dismay the conversation eventually drifts to the boys.
“Quinn is not hot, Nora,” Fatin insists, waving a hand at her in protest while Nora tries to talk over her. “I’ll give you cute, but that’s it. Carlos is the hottest.”
“Uh, James?” Dot cuts in. “Have you seen his abs?”
“Ooh, so you like muscles on your men? And Nora’s into nerds.” Fatin surveys the group with a grin. “What about you, Marty?”
“Well-hung,” Toni supplies for her, and Martha elbows her sharply.
“Toni’s kidding. I just like sweet guys.” She gives Nora a friendly smile. “I think Quinn is cute, too.”
“Alright, that’s two votes Quinn,” Fatin rolls her eyes, “one vote Carlos, one vote James. Shelby, what’s your type?”
“Let me guess,” Rachel says, smirking at Shelby, who looks back at Rachel a little more casually than Toni’s used to seeing her and just sips at her rum, like she’s both amused and also interested. “It’s a dealbreaker if he doesn’t sing in his church’s choir, right?” Toni decides maybe she likes Rachel a little bit after all.
“She could surprise us,” Fatin suggests. “Maybe Shelby likes bad boys. Like Carlos, perhaps? I could totally see you on the back of a motorcycle.”
“Is there a question in here somewhere?” Shelby wonders, raising an eyebrow.
“The most physically attractive camp counselor,” Dot says, as though it’s obvious. “Who’s your type?”
“Physically?” Shelby asks. Toni sighs, sick of this line of conversation, and stands to wander off, but her legs feel a little wobbly from all the drinking. “Toni.”
Toni takes a step at the perfectly wrong time because Shelby’s just said her name, and her toe catches on the edge of the log and sends her sprawling out onto the ground with a thump and a quiet oof. She feels several pairs of eyes on her, and then Shelby adds, “Well, maybe not after that,” and then there’s a smattering of awkward, nervous laughter because it’s abundantly clear that no one’s sure whether or not to take her seriously.
“Rachel, vote,” Fatin moves on past the tense moment, and Toni rolls over onto her back and sits up, staring hard at Shelby, who just sips at her drink again with the same casual demeanor, her eyes back on Rachel now as the other girls toss around a few more of the boys’ names. She doesn’t look at Toni at all.
“If you guys are just gonna talk about boys all night, I’m going to bed,” Toni warns, and they take pity on her and change the subject. Toni drinks heavily after that to try to get rid of the discomfort in her gut, but she can’t stop thinking about what Shelby’s just said.
By the time she’s trying to deal with screaming children through a hangover the next morning, she’s sure Shelby had been trying to fuck with her. She’s actually a little bit mad about it; she feels like she was being mocked, maybe, because clearly Shelby knows she’s gay and maybe just wanted to rile her up a little. She wishes the girls had bothered to ask her for her physical type so she could’ve lied and said Fatin—every ex-girlfriend aside from her latest one, Regan, has been blonde, but she would’ve relished the chance to say anyone other than Shelby, just to get back at her a little.
The bright side of day five is that she doesn’t have to hang out with Shelby for any of it and gets to make her kids play dodgeball against Fatin’s, and as it turns out Hannah is a one-woman wrecking crew, a dodgeball prodigy, if you will, and Toni’s kids absolutely destroy Fatin’s and earn themselves a piece of candy to go with their lunch. The downside is that she has to do crafts with Carlos and his kids in the afternoon, and he sidles up to her and runs a hand through his hair and immediately she knows this is about to be some bullshit.
“Hey, your name’s Toni, right?” he asks, checking her out, and Toni rolls her eyes and doesn’t even look at him, just keeps surveying her own children to make sure nobody cuts off anything important with their scissors or starts eating glue or something.
“Yep,” she says shortly.
“Are you from around here? Do you go to school nearby?”
She laughs and finally manages a glance at him. “Dude, your gaydar’s complete trash. Work on it.”
“Huh?” He looks confused.
“I’m a lesbian?”
“What’s a lesbian?” Hannah arrives on her other side just in time to ask, and Toni waves her away, annoyed.
“Can you stop doing that? Jesus Christ. Get a dictionary.”
Hannah departs, a little downtrodden, and Carlos just says, “Oh. Sorry. Got it.” It’s a better reaction than Toni’d anticipated.
On day six, Toni has lifeguard duty while her kids swim around in the water, and Shelby’s are nearby learning canoeing again with Carlos’s. Toni watches him paddle up beside Shelby’s canoe and bump hers, and they laugh together and talk a little. Carlos raises his arm to flex a bicep at one point and Toni watches Shelby giggle at him while she feels it.
When the lesson is over and Shelby’s making her way back toward her cabin alone to get changed, she passes by Toni’s lifeguard chair and Toni can’t help but blurt, “Guess we got your real answer, finally.”
Shelby pauses and looks over at her, and Toni tries to ignore how good her bikini looks on her now that she’s not wearing a life vest over it. “What was that?” Shelby asks, confused.
“Carlos. That’s your type.”
Shelby looks amused again. “So if I talk to someone that makes him my type?”
Toni scoffs. “Please. That whole ‘oh, feel my bicep’ shit is like textbook hetero flirting.”
“I was just bein’ nice,” Shelby says, “although I don’t see why it bothers you so much—”
“It doesn’t,” Toni snaps, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m just saying, don’t make shit up to fuck with me. I’m allowed to not like you without it turning into a whole stupid rivalry or something.”
Shelby furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head. “Okay, now I’m confused. What am I makin’ up again?”
“Your answer by the fire,” Toni elaborates, though she feels very embarrassed to be talking about it directly like this.
“Oh.” Shelby’s eyes fill with understanding. “I see. So, I said that you were my type, physically, and you think I lied to try to get back at you or rattle you or somethin’, because you don’t like me.” Shelby pauses, and takes Toni’s stony silence as confirmation. “Well, you’re wrong.” Her eyes drift down from Toni’s face to linger on her abdomen, and she blatantly checks Toni out for a moment and then turns and walks away. Toni’s surprised by the hot shiver she feels run down her spine.
On day seven, Toni’s dragging a paddleboat out toward the lake when Shelby walks past with Fatin and Dot and Toni overhears her saying, “Oh, I love the Rockies! Me and my ex took a trip there last summer because she’d always wanted to see the—” and Toni’s head turns so swiftly that she nearly gets whiplash, and she accidentally drops the paddleboat right onto her foot, sending shooting pain running up her leg.
“Fuck!” she curses, shoving the boat away and sitting down to take off her shoe so she can assess the damage, Shelby and the other girls momentarily forgotten.
This is going to be a long fucking six weeks.