"Well, I think that wraps up tonight's staff meeting. Any questions?"

A collective silence fell over the group, gathered in the dining hall, as we looked around at each other. The wordless plea of thirty counselors was almost tangible in the air; it had been a long, painful day, and nobody was about to postpone collapsing into bed. When no one spoke, Shany clapped her hands together at the front of the room and smiled.

"That's it, then. You're free to head back to your cabins. See you all tomorrow morning!"

The words were music to my ears; like everybody my else, I was out of my seat the moment she finished her sentence. Sure, I had to head back to the kids rather than the comfort of the staff quarters, but even that held the promise of eventually making it to bed. Unfortunately, I only managed two steps before Shany's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Ellie? Could you hold on a moment?"

Freezing on the spot, I tried not to wince. Several other staff pushed past me as I glanced over my shoulder. "Sure," I said, though hanging back was the last thing I wanted to do. "No problem."

I returned to my seat as the last of the counselors disappeared from the room, their footsteps and chatter carrying inside until the door closed behind them. Once we were alone in the dining hall, Shany sunk onto the opposite bench and faced me.

"So," I said, if only to break the slightly awkward silence that was beginning to settle, "what's up?"

Shany paused, placing her hands on the table. As my gaze flickered over her, my stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch; there was something about her expression that told me this was not going to be good. "Am I right in thinking you went on a cookout with your cabin this afternoon?"

I had spent the last few hours trying to push the memory from my mind, if only to avoid long term mental scarring, but it didn't seem like she was going to let that happen. "Yeah."

"With Benji?"

I nodded.

"He came to see me over dinner. He mentioned there was a little... incident with some of the girls in your cabin."

She already knew, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. I was aware Benji would have to tell the directors, and yet there had still been a part of me hoping the events of the afternoon would stay quiet. "Uh... yeah," I said eventually. "I guess you could call it that."

"What happened?"

I was already cringing internally, and flashbacks from the afternoon cookout threatened to make a reappearance. It had been horrible enough to live through the first time round; I hardly wanted to sit here and spell out what a terrible counselor I was to Shany. Her expectant look, however, told me I didn't have a choice.

"Well, the hike up there was fine," I said, feeling like I should at least try to redeem myself. "No problems there. We sent the kids off to look for firewood while Benji and I set up the tarp shelter."

"Okay. And then what?"

"We finished setting up the shelter, and by that time, they'd come back with enough firewood to start the fire. So while we were getting on with it, I sent them off to take a swim in the lake before we put the food on the grill."

Shany raised an eyebrow. "They were being supervised at this point?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," I said quickly. "We could see the lake from our spot, and all the girls had their life jackets on. Everything was fine."

"Did you take your attention off the lake at all?" she quizzed. "Benji told me that one of the girls in your cabin got into trouble in the water. Sydney?"

"We were both watching them," I assured her. It felt like the look on her face was growing increasingly skeptical with every word out of my mouth, making me all the more desperate to prove I wasn't entirely useless. "She was wearing her life jacket – I made sure of that before they got into the lake. All of a sudden, we heard shouting from the water, so obviously Benji and I got over as quickly as possible. She was thrashing around, screaming her head off, even though the couldn't have been in any real danger. We thought she was just panicking. So Benji dashed down and jumped in the lake after her."

"And he got her out of the water?"

"Yeah, straight away. Then, next thing I knew, I heard shouting from the other end of the site. I turned round and saw Robin standing at the edge of the rock."

"You mean at the edge, where the kids aren't supposed to climb? Weren't you watching them?"

"We were both distracted by Sydney at this point. She must've climbed up without us noticing." I wished the story didn't make me sound so incompetent. The panicked tone in which I was telling it probably wasn't helping, either. "That's when I noticed she had the backpack full of supplies, and she was dangling it over the edge."

"The backpack with everything inside?"

"Yeah. All the food, water bottles, medical kit. The whole lot. Obviously, I ran over there as quickly as I could, because I didn't want her to slip. She seemed to think it was all some kind of game, though, because the moment I got onto the rock, she just threw the backpack."

Shany frowned. "And did you tell her not to? Did you follow the staff training? Explain to her clearly what the consequences would be if she continued to disobey her counselor?"

So that was what had been in the training; maybe I would've recalled it a little more easily if one of my campers had not been on the verge of throwing every bit of cookout equipment into the lake. It was fine for Shany to say it now, but in such panic, the easiest option had been to make a desperate grab. Which didn't sound quite as good when I was retelling the story to my supervisor.

"I, uh... sort of," I stammered, though it was far from convincing. "She threw it anyway."

I could remember it perfectly: the sheer despair upon realizing my camper had single-handedly disposed of every utensil, medical supply and pack of food we needed for the following three hours.

"Right," Shany continued, sounding almost weary. "And what happened with Tasha?"

"Well, I'd just managed to get Robin away from the edge when I heard her shouting. When I turned around, she was standing over the fire with the water bucket. I didn't get a chance to say anything before she put it out."

"She put the fire out," Shany repeated slowly, with an almost disbelieving undertone. I had to admit the story did sound far-fetched, especially to someone who hadn't quite witnessed the day-to-day antics of Squirrel Cabin. A few moments of silence lapsed between us, and I stared back at her, hoping the story hadn't painted me in an entirely horrific light. "So, Ellie, you're telling me that these three girls planned all this to sabotage the afternoon?"

"Yeah."

She let out a long sigh, blowing her dark bangs from her face. "And why on earth would they want to do that?"

I knew exactly why. In fact, even before things had kicked off, I'd been waiting for something. It was impossible to ignore the sense of foreboding that had been in the air all day. Tasha was never going to react kindly to the previous evening, when I'd been woken up in the night by the sound of rustling packets and giggling from the next room. She was furious when I emerged in the kids' room to find them all stuffing their faces with a supply of junk food hidden in Tasha's pillowcase and confiscated the lot.

I was expecting payback the following morning; when breakfast came and went with no significant difficulties, the ominous atmosphere only intensified. Tasha would never let me get away with it. Apparently, this time, her payback warranted the help of two accomplices to pull off something slightly larger scale.

"Tasha and I haven't exactly seen eye-to-eye since she arrived," I said truthfully. "She doesn't like me very much."

"And that's enough for her to want to ruin an entire afternoon? Shany asked, a little skeptically. "She seems like a sweet little girl at heart. A little unpredictable, maybe, but nothing that's impossible to handle."

I wanted to scream at her. The only thing she could say about Tasha was that she was a little unpredictable? That had to be the understatement of the century. Still, from Shany's point of view – her comfortable perspective overseeing the brutal work of the counselors – she probably seemed a lot more appealing. Shove her in a confined space with the girl for twenty hours a day, and I was sure she'd change her mind.

"It's just... she's been a little tough. It's hard to get her to listen to instructions."

"You were there for training, weren't you?" Maybe I was imagining it, but Shany's eyes seemed to have narrowed slightly. Where I hoped to see sympathy, I could only feel myself squirming under an accusatory look. "All the staff were taught how to deal with incompliant kids."

It was true, but none of the workshops we'd been forced into had been designed with Seb's little sister in mind. They had all been based on the idea that the kids would turn into angels after a reasonable conversation and appropriate punishment. I was entirely ill-equipped for a girl with a mission to make my life hell.

"I did the training," I told her. "It's just none of it seems to be working with Tasha."

"And how long have you been struggling with your cabin?"

"I wouldn't say I'm struggling," I said, all too aware of the way her eyes were sweeping over me, judging. "I just..."

"Do things like this happen often?"

"Well, not on this scale..."

"But things have happened before?"

I couldn't seem to wriggle my way out; my words were being twisted, morphing into Shany's vision of an entirely incompetent counselor that needed to be dealt with immediately. Sure, I hated the job, but it was hardly how I wanted the camp supervisors to view me.

"Do you need me to speak to someone about bringing in a more senior counselor to help you out?"

"No, look, it's fine," I said quickly. "Tasha's just being a little difficult right now. I'm sure things will improve."

"And what are you going to do to make sure something like this afternoon doesn't happen again?"

"I... well, I mean, I'm sure I can..." Shany looked at me questioningly, wordlessly prompting a more substantial answer. Like I could actually provide one. "I'll talk to the girls in the cabin tonight, okay? I'm sure I'll be able to sort something out."

She pursed her lips, her gaze not leaving me, as if she was trying to catch me out on just my expression. "If you say so," she said eventually. "I'll get the other supervisors to keep an eye on your cabin, make sure there's not any more trouble. But if you find yourself struggling, you need to let us know."

"I will," I told her, in what I hoped was a convincing tone. "I'll work things out."

"Right, well, I suppose you should head back. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

"Yeah," I said, wasting no time in rising from my seat. The sooner I got away from the dining hall, and Shany's disapproving gaze, the better. "See you then."

I pushed through the doors of the dining hall, but once out on the porch, I could feel my eyes pricking pathetically. It was already past ten, the cool night air running a chill right through me, and the camp felt eerily still. Only a month into the summer, and things were already disastrous; though I never expected to enjoy camp counseling, this was worse than I'd prepared for. Nobody could've prepared for Tasha.

And yet, as much as I hated counseling, it was no less disheartening to be told I sucked at it. If I didn't prove I could keep my cabin in check, I was looking at a demotion, not being permitted to do anything without the supervision of someone capable. And that was just embarrassing.

Hugging my cold arms to my chest, I furiously blinked away a few potential tears on the way back to the cabin. Nothing would come of crying, except perhaps a new reason to be taunted by the kids, so I wasn't going to let myself. All I could do was put on a brave face and hope it was at least a little convincing.

Ten minutes later, however, when I arrived at the cabin, I got some rare good news.

Crystal was the junior counselor left in charge while I was at the staff meeting. She met me at the door, wearing pajamas and a smile. "The girls are all in bed," she said in a hushed tone. "Guess the afternoon tired them out, because they were all out like a light."

For the first time that day, a genuine smile crept onto my face. I let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, that's great. Thanks so much."

"You know, I don't mind sticking around for a little while longer," she told me, leaning against the door. "I've got five seasons of Game of Thrones downloaded onto my laptop, and I don't really feel like heading over to the staff lounge tonight. You can head over, if you want."

It sounded incredibly tempting, but I also felt kind of bad. Crystal seemed so perky – the main distinguisher between junior and senior staff – and I wondered whether an evening in Squirrel Cabin would ruin that entirely. "You sure?"

"Totally." She was still smiling. "You've had a long day. Go have some time to yourself."

I could hardly get down the stairs fast enough. "Thank you so much. I owe you big time."

Crystal just waved me off. "Don't worry about it."

The staff lounge was busy when I got there; I could see through the windows that most of the seniors were inside, lounging on couches and playing music that thumped right through the walls. Only on the approach did I realize I didn't really feel like joining them, where there'd likely want to talk about the disastrous cookout, turning the whole thing into an infamous camp story.

All I wanted was some time to myself, so I walked straight past the doors to settle instead on the porch steps.

As it turned out, I was alone for about two minutes. Then, the door opened, the beat of the music increasing in volume for a few seconds before becoming muffled again. My heart dropped initially at the prospect of a visitor, but when I glanced over my shoulder, it didn't take long for my spirits to lift.

"Hey, you," said Seb, lowering himself onto the step beside me. "What are you doing outside?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Saw you walk past the window." I noticed then he was still wearing his lifeguard T-shirt, the telltale sign that he'd forgotten to do laundry and was now running out of clothes. It was hardly a rare look for him at camp. "I didn't know you had night relief tonight."

"I don't," I said. "One of the junior counselors is doing me a favor. Tasha will probably destroy every bit of her happiness, but for some extra time off, I can live with it on my conscience."

"I don't blame you. Heard you had a tough afternoon."

It took a lot of effort not to groan. "Tough doesn't cut it. Try unbearable. So unbearable, in fact, that it's actually causing the supervisors to seriously evaluate my ability as a counselor."

Seb looked over, his thick brows knitting together in a frown. It wasn't like this took much; his dark eyebrows had grown a little too close together all the time I'd known him. I'd never forget the time I walked in on him in my bedroom several years ago, finding he'd raided my make-up bag and was trying desperately to rid himself of the impending unibrow with my tweezers. Though I had laughed for at least ten minutes, ever since then, I started doing the plucking for him. He consistently reminded me I would be dead if I told anybody, but it was kind of sweet all the same.

"Are you serious? What happened?"

There was something about the expression on his face: a real picture of concern, nothing like what I'd been faced with when sitting across from Shany. All of a sudden, I could feel my eyes pricking again, a fresh wave of misery sweeping over me.

And Seb noticed.

"Hey, hey. What's the matter? I'm sure it can't have been that bad."

The moment I felt his arm around me, I couldn't stop myself; the floodgates opened, the first tears streaming down my cheeks. He pulled my head into his chest as I tried to choke back the worst of the sobs.

"These kids are going to get me fired," I forced out against the material of his T-shirt. "I'm useless. I can't cope with them."

All of a sudden, I felt his hand on top of my head, slowly stroking my crazy curls. "You are not useless," he said softly. "You've dealt with my sister for a week already. That in itself takes a lot of mental strength, let me tell you."

When I didn't say anything, he loosened his grip, letting my head rise to meet his gaze. "Hey, I'm sorry she's giving you a hard time. I'll have to give her that lecture I was talking about the other day. She is definitely not getting those riding lessons."

"Don't worry about it," I said, discreetly trying to wipe my nose. "I hate this job. Maybe it'll be a blessing if I get fired. I'm pretty sure even dealing with my angry mom's gotta be better than sticking this out much longer."

"You're not going to get fired. Once Tasha leaves, you're going to be a kickass counselor."

"I don't want to be, Seb. I hate this job. I hate camp. You know, all I wanted this summer was some time together before I have to leave for college, and now we're both stuck here. What a way to go out."

"You really hate it that much?"

I nodded, letting out a long sigh. "I'm miserable here," I told him. "Every day I'm thinking about getting out. What it's going to be like to pack up and leave. But there's still another two months to go."

There was a slightly pause. "There doesn't have to be."

At this, I glanced over, giving him a strange look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's not like we're trapped here," he explained, even though that was exactly it. "They're not holding us against our wills."

"Our parents are holding us against our wills," I corrected.