Keep Reading for a Sneak Peek from Falling In Fast, Bridgeport Lake Series Book 1. Enjoy!…
ONE
-Emery-
All my friends had their lives annoyingly figured out by the end of senior year. None of them were left guessing at their plans for college in the fall. I was in the same boat as them, sporting my new school colors, talking dorm-decor, and shedding a million goodbye tears. But that was before my jerk-boyfriend decided to make out with Carly Graves at a random party. I saw the video on social five days before graduation. So, did the rest of the school. Yeah. That kind of insanity makes a person rethink everything.
I had to get out of there.
I gritted my way through graduation, deleted all of Nick’s apology texts, and applied to work the summer at Bridgeport Lake Christian Camp. My acceptance call came the second day of summer.
Bridgeport wanted me and it was hundreds of miles away from everything that reminded me of him.
That was all I needed to know . . .
Something about the familiar, thick scent of mountain sequoias settled my nerves as I adjusted my duffle bag on my shoulder and glanced around the campus. Everything in sight took me straight back to summer life as a camper the previous four years. Swimming. Campfires. Ropes courses. Massive hundred-player games.
Life unplugged.
Bridgeport.
I scanned the shimmering lake to my right. The ancient boulder in the center stared back at me like it knew all the secrets of summer.
I thought it would be eerie, getting here two weeks before campers were set to come. It was beyond peaceful. Like, my own private oasis. Well, except for a few stray staffers walking around. But I was about to be one of them and that thought drowned out all the rest. Yeah. This was exactly what I needed to get my mind off of Nick. The surface of the familiar paved road glinted in the mid-morning sun. I headed toward the main office, tucked quietly inside a grove of trees, and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Can I help you?” A peppy redhead in a ponytail stood behind the front counter, twisting the pen cap in her fingers.
“I’m here for staff orientation,” I said, offering a timid smile.
Her eyes widened, her blue eyes practically sparking as she nodded. “Welcome aboard. What’s your name?”
“Emery Hudson.”
“I’m June. I’m here year-round.” She pulled a box of manila envelopes from beneath the counter, flipped through the stack, and stopped with a nod. “Here it is.” She took out an envelope and opened the flap, retrieving a key from inside. “You’re in room 210 in Blackthorn Hall. The women’s lodge.” She pulled out a camp-official lanyard, complete with the Bridgeport sequoia emblem with my name on it. “You’re supposed to wear this around campus at all times.” She handed it over.
“Thanks.” I slipped it over my head, hedging a smile. I’d envisioned wearing one of these things a million times as a camper. My fingers buzzed with excitement as the reality of finally being on staff hit home. June set three sealed plastic bags on top of the counter and patted it. “Your staff tees and instructions for dress code are in your handbook.”
“Got it.”
She glanced at the clock turning quickly to 11:30. “Lunch is at twelve in the cafeteria. Pastor Gregg plans to meet with everyone there to kind of give us a feel for this summer’s vision.”
“Awesome.” I took the keys.
“I’m in room 205 if you need anything,” she added with another bright smile.
“Thanks,” I said, toying with the hair-tie on my wrist as I dipped my head. “I’ll just head over then.”
She winked. “See you at lunch.”
“See you.”
The sun warmed my scalp as I headed back out and traveled the paved roadway up the slight incline through the trees until it flattened out again. I passed the camp pool and the pond. A million birds sang in chorus in the trees overhead as I took a sharp left in front of the basketball courts. A group of guys were in the middle of some kind of scrimmage. If I was brave, I’d drop my bags and join them. I cleared my throat instead and hurried my pace as their game switched hoops and they headed in my direction.
“Heads up!” someone shouted. I turned just in time to see the ball careening toward my head. It hit me with a solid ping and bounced back to the ground, the earth swaying beneath me for a second. I bent forward, pressing my palms to my knees to find equilibrium. A piercing sound rang through my ears.
Nice.
A set of footsteps came crunching over the gravel toward me. “Whoa. Sorry. You all right?” It was a deep voice. The rumbling kind. The kind of voice the bad boys had in high school.
A voice like Nick’s.
But there weren’t any bad boys here . . . part of staff requirements was a faith statement. You had to attend church. You had to have a letter from your pastor. Unless they were frauds, they wouldn’t be like Nick.
Pressing my palm to my head helped the dizziness a little, but my cheeks were on fire. “Yep. Fine. Thanks.” I stood, trying not to wince, but it stung. My head, and my pride.
“You sure? Here.” He stepped toward me, a head
