Camp Kuapua.
Home to many.
A nightmare to some.
Those would be for the kids who are unfortunate enough to get Andrea McMiller as their Team Leader.
Andrea was steady approaching the end of her senior year in high school. With that, brought on a who...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
•• Andrea's POV
"Stay still, you big baby." I scolded Deacon.
"You're the one who's treating my injury with the upmost blatant disrespect. Would it kill you to be a little more gentle?" He shot back.
"Oh come on, it's just a scratch." I insisted. My fingers gently laid the bandage over the cut before sealing it along the sides. I slowed down unintentionally when my eyes caught Deacon's.
He was looking at me in a way that made my heart hammer against my chest, and my ovaries want to explode. "I-I-" I stuttered with little coherence. I hadn't noticed our proximity before now. His face this close to mine, gave me a far better view of just how handsome this guy was.
But then something sort of snapped in me, which brought me out of whatever trance that was. This guy was the fucking captain of Applewood High. I wouldn't give him the luxury of thinking I was just another girl who would fall head over heels for this asshat.
I knew guys like him. Kenny fucking Richards was a perfect example of that.
"We should probably find somewhere to stay for the night, then head back in the morning. I don't think it'll be safe enough to try and find our way back now." Deacon spoke. I had already started packing up our things.
"How's the head feeling?" I asked. I was refusing to meet his eyes again.
"I'll live." Was all he said. We walked back to where the boulder was, and set all the bags down.
"It looks like we've only got one sleeping bag."
I looked at Deacon.
And then the size small sleeping bag I had accidentally grabbed from the auditorium instead of the large.
God. Please stop fucking with me. My heart can't take much more.
"You can use it and I can just bundle up on the ground." Deacon offered. I gave him an eye roll.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're injured. You take the sleeping bag."
"What? No way. You've already started shivering. How about we share it? We're adults after all." He offered. Well, technically, I was still 17. I smiled to myself lightly when I remembered what Brian had said.
The act was very simple.
1. Get into sleeping bag. 2. Sleep. Yet it still sent butterflies to my stomach in a 'I'm about to throw up from nerves' kind of way.
"I really don't think we need to-" I started, but Deacon cut me off.
"Just get in the fucking bag, will you?"
I shimmied my way in first, trying to create as much room for Deacon before his unnecessarily large mass slid in. It was really just overkill... his toned pecks... his ripped back muscles...
