11
Nathaniel
This place is crazy.
What were they thinking, giving these kids ice cream? I don’t know jack shit about kids, but even I know that giving sugar to twenty kids and turning them loose to set up campsites is a recipe for disaster. There are four camp counselors trying to establish order in a field a few hundred yards away from my house – the area I designated for the campsite.
Adriano and I spent most of lunch – hotdogs and burgers – fielding questions from a bunch of kids, some of whom were super excited we were here and some who didn’t know who the hell we were. I preferred the kids who didn’t know who the hell we were. The camp only started today, but already I think I’ve answered more questions than I did from reporters all last season.
I glance back at the house, wondering if anyone would notice if I ditched the tiny terrors out here and caught a workout in the gym. Or shit, just enjoyed ten minutes of silence.
Georgina Aschberg has been all business since she got here. Professional doesn’t even begin to describe her attitude. She’s been cool as a cucumber ever since Adriano and I met with her in her office. There were a few times the past few days when she called me personally to ask questions about the ranch, questions that I could swear an assistant could have asked. I thought she was calling because there was something between us, but even during those calls she was all business. When she introduced Adriano and I at the beginning of the camp, it was like we were any other celebrities.
There was one moment after she finished the introductions, however, when she met my gaze and something passed between us. It was enough to make her cheeks flush, but that was the only hint I was given that she might be attracted to me.
Fortunately, I’m not the only one who’s been kept at arm’s length. Adriano hasn’t gotten any alone time with her, and that’s how it’s going to stay if I have anything to say about it. The camp counselors are all required to camp outside with the kids, but I “generously” opened the main house to Georgina and the field house to the support staff who needed space during the week but wouldn’t be staying overnight. Georgina started to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that she usually stays with the support staff, but her security detail stepped in and said that it was a better setup from a security point of view.
Score one for the Secret Service agents.
A boy darts past me with a bunch of tent spikes in his hand, and I grab him by the back of the shirt. He looks up at me. “Dude.”
“Dude,” I repeat, letting go of him. “Anyone ever tell you not to run with scissors?”
“Uh, these aren’t scissors.”
“Yeah, they’re spikes, Louis,” I correct, reading the name tag on his shirt. “And I’m pretty sure that’s worse.”
“Why?”
“You want to trip and fall and get a spike through the eye?”
“That would be gnarly.”
I roll my eyes. “Where’s your tent?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“You’re just running around with a bunch of tent spikes for no reason?”
“That kid has it. I paired up with him.” He points to a nerdy blond kid with glasses twenty yards away who’s holding a tent and looking like a stiff wind could knock him over.
I exhale heavily. “Have you ever been camping?”
“No.”
“Where are your counselors?”
He shrugs and points to a counselor helping a pair of kids with a tent. Then he turns back to me and asks, “Do you know how to set up a tent?”
At the same time, I catch a glimpse of Adriano on the other side of the field, walking toward Georgina. She’s squatting down in her jeans and cowgirl boots – the most inauthentic bright red boots ever, but the second I saw her in them, I couldn’t help but think of her in nothing but those boots. She smiles as she talks to a kid. When Adriano reaches her, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and directs that smile toward him.
Walk over and take Georgina out of Adriano’s hands or help a couple of kids set up a tent? It isn’t even a question.
Inwardly I groan; outwardly, I sigh. “Ah, shit. Yeah, I know how to set up a tent.”
“Don’t sound so happy,” Louis says. “Are you a camp counselor? You’re not supposed to cuss.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Ten.”
“I’m pretty sure your ears aren’t going to fall off if you hear the word ‘shit’.”
“You’re kind of an ass,” he notes as we walk. All right, these kids might not be so bad after all.
"Did you just call me an ass?"
“That's what my mom calls people sometimes when they cut in front of her in traffic. Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m a football player.”
He looks at me with his nose wrinkled. “You don’t look like a football player.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? What the hell do you think a football player looks like?”
“Rich,” he says, matter-of-fact, as we get to the campsite. The twiggy little blond kid is standing beside a pile of tarp and various supplies, looking helpless.
“And I don’t look rich?”
Louis shrugs.
“Whoa,” the blond kid breathes, looking at me with wide eyes. “I know who you are.”
I look at Louis. “See? Told you. I’m famous.”
The blond kid, Spencer, as I note from his nametag, nods. “You’re on that TV show.”
“You’re on a TV show?” Louis blurts. “Well, why didn’t you say that?”
“Because I’m not on a TV show,” I grumble. How’d I wind up paired with the only two kids here who don’t know who I am? “Weren’t you paying attention when they introduced us earlier?”
Louis shrugs for the fifteenth time. “Not really. I get bored a lot.”
Spencer interrupts. “Yeah, I remember that other guy over there. He’s a football player,” he says, pointing to Adriano.
“We’re both football players. Famous ones,” I say, exhaling heavily in exasperation. I glance at Adriano on the other side of the field, who’s standing way too close to Georgina to be appropriate.
“Do you know that’s President Aschberg’s daughter?” Spencer asks, oblivious to my frustration. “President Aschberg has been in office for eight hundred and eighty-two days. He’s married to Kate Aschberg, and they have a dog named Ruffles.”
“What, are you an encyclopedia?” I ask.
“I had to do a report last week,” Spencer replies. “What’s an encyclopedia?”
“It’s a reference book. People look stuff up in encyclopedias when they want to learn about things.”
“You mean like asking Siri?” Spencer looks at me blankly.
I exhale heavily. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”
Louis looks at me, his nose wrinkled again. “You see those other counselors? They seem nicer than you.”
“They’re smiling more,” agrees Spencer.
“Are you here because you’re doing community service or something?” asks Louis as he bends over and begins to pull out a tent. “My mom’s ex-boyfriend had to do community service once. But he picked up trash at a park.”
“This is my ranch, smartass.” I grab the tent from the mouthy kid’s hands. “You guys are my guests.”
Louis looks doubtful. “Are you sure?”
“You’re asking if I’m sure it’s my ranch or if I’m sure about having you kids here? Because I’m starting to regret the latter.”
Louis and Spencer stare at me blankly.
I exhale heavily. This is going to be a long damn two weeks, although if I’m being honest, I’ll admit that Louis and Spencer aren’t so bad. They’re even kind of funny - for kids. “How about less talking and more setting up the tents?”
