The round of introductions was much more formal this time. Jenny found herself tongue-tied, though Nina bombarded the McKnights with nosy questions, because that was what Nina did. She was nosy and fearless, demanding to know where they lived, what Mr. Santini’s and Mr. McKnight’s jobs were. When Rourke’s father said he was in the state assembly, Nina slapped her forehead. “Senator Drayton McKnight,” she exclaimed. “Get out.”
Jenny had never heard of Drayton McKnight. Who, besides Nina, would know such a thing? Of course, Nina was obsessed with politics and planned to run for office someday. She had studied every level of government from dogcatcher to state assemblyman to the president of the United States.
Rourke was clearly not enthralled by the prospect of being a senator’s son. “We’d better get going,” he said.
Jenny and Joey shared a look, and they didn’t really have to speak. They were the same, the two of them, quiet, raised by immigrants. Joey’s too-pretty eyes shone at her. After being bullied by those boys at the camp, Jenny had been ready to swear off kissing. Looking at Joey and Rourke, she was willing to reconsider.
A counselor’s whistle sounded, and Rourke nudged Joey. “Let’s go.”
“See you around,” Joey told them.
As the parents herded them away, Nina reeled and clutched at her heart. “Omigod, you weren’t kidding. He is so cute.”
“Which one?”
“Good point, they’re both cute. But Joey looks too much like my brothers.”
It was true. Joey would fit right in with the Romanos. By contrast, Rourke McKnight looked as blond and patrician as Prince Charming.
“Anyway,” Nina said, “it doesn’t matter, because he likes you, not me.”
Jenny’s face instantly caught fire. “You’re crazy.”
“Don’t deny it and don’t be all, like, he’s practically a stranger. I know what I know. Including the fact that Joey has a crush on you, too.”
A feeling of giddiness whirled through Jenny, but she was embarrassed. This whole boy business was both wonderful and terrible at the same time. “First of all,” she said, “you’re wrong, and second of all, if you say anything to either of them, I’ll tell everyone at the bakery you’re a diabetic, and to never, ever give you anything to eat again.”
Nina sniffed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Jenny set her hands on her hips. “Try me.”
“He totally wants you,” Nina insisted.
Jenny’s face burned with a blush. She liked both of these boys. Joey because he was funny and easy and a lot like her, and Rourke because he was handsome and mysterious and kind of troubled. When she looked at him, she felt a funny tug at her heart. This business of liking boys was complicated, she decided. Maybe it was a good thing they both lived in the city. At summer’s end, they’d both be gone, and she wouldn’t have to like either of them.
* * *
Every summer after that, Jenny would anxiously watch the campers getting off the train at the station to see if Rourke McKnight would be coming to camp that year. And there he was again, taller and more golden than the previous year. Joey didn’t change much. He was always laughing at something, and studying Jenny in a way that didn’t embarrass her but made her feel special. Rourke was quieter, and when he looked at her, she didn’t feel special but…unsettled.
The third summer, he told her it would be the last for him and Joey as campers. It was the day before the Fourth of July. She was on a bakery run to the camp and slipped away when she spied Rourke. When he told her, she had the strangest reaction. On the one hand, she was disappointed, because it meant she’d never see him again. On the other hand, her heart gave a leap, because the first thing that occurred to her was that if she wanted to get him to kiss her, she’d better work fast because time was running out.
She’d waited two whole summers for this.
She glanced around. They were alone because it was pouring, and most of the campers were in their cabins or in the main pavilion, doing crafts or playing board games. They ducked under the deck of the pavilion for shelter.
“I can’t believe it’s your last summer as a camper,” she said, taking a step toward him. She stared at his mouth, just like it said in Seventeen magazine, a nonverbal cue.
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Yes, she thought, yes, he knows. Jenny took another step, closing the gap between them. She tried something else—putting out her tongue to moisten her lips—another tip from Seventeen.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, adorably flustered. “About that. We’ll be back. I mean, as counselors. Mr. Bellamy invited us both to work here next summer if we want.”
Oh. Maybe that was her cue to step back. She didn’t, though. But he was being so danged clueless, she didn’t know how to proceed, so she just grabbed him and hugged him. “I’m so glad, Rourke. I’m glad you’re coming back.”
For one magical moment, maybe the span of a heartbeat, he hugged her back, and it felt like in that split second she went to heaven. Then he turned all stiff and set her aside.
“So anyway,” he said, acting as if the moment never happened, “I’m pretty sure my dad will go ballistic and forbid me to do it. He’ll want me to spend my time more productively, as he puts it.”
“Does that mean you’re not coming back?”
“Nope. Just means I’ll have to fight to get my way. I always do.” He glared out at the curtain of rain sprinkling the lake.
“Do you and your dad fight a lot?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I try to pick my battles. He’s a mean son of a bitch.”
“What do you mean, ‘mean’?”
“How
