“He’s decent enough, I guess,” I lie, nonchalantly. Decent doesn’t even begin to cut what Kyle is. And so different from Trevor, the guy I dated for almost five months this past year. Trevor was a senior, and six feet of brawny muscle, broad shoulders, and baby-blue eyes. He also turned out to be a pig masquerading as a nice guy—promising he wouldn’t pressure me into sex, all while sliding his hand up my shirt and spiking my drinks at parties. When I figured out the latter, I dumped his ass. His ego didn’t take too kindly to that. I mean, a sophomore dumping the Trevor Reilly? He ended up with another senior within two days, and told every guy who would listen to not bother with me unless they wanted serious blue balls.

“So, who has Kyle hooked up with around here, anyway?” Because a guy who looks like that doesn’t spend an entire summer surrounded by fawning hormonal admirers and stay celibate.

“He was with Avery last summer.”

My gaze surveys the crowd. “Let me guess, the one in the navy-striped shirt?”

“Yeah.” Ashley frowns. “How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch,” I mutter wryly, watching the leggy redhead with the bag of marshmallows as she carefully skewers several on the end of a long metal stick. Narrow hips, skinny waist, large breasts, long, glossy tresses the color of a fiery copper. She stands out from all the girl-next-door counselors around the circle, and she’s easily the most classically beautiful female here.

Kyle doesn’t sound as different as Ashley claims, after all. At least not as far as his choice of girls goes. “How old is she?”

“Twenty, I think? At least twenty. This is her second year as a senior counselor. Kyle’s only seventeen.” Ashley looks knowingly at me. “He must like them older.”

Or more experienced. If that’s the case, how quick will he be to abandon the interest he seems to be showing in me? I mean, it’s not like I’m saving myself for marriage, but I’m also not in a rush to rid myself of my virginity as if it were a hot potato. I want it to mean something when it finally happens and so far, I haven’t met a guy who fills that requirement. Trevor Reilly definitely did not.

Will Kyle?

“So, what happened between them?”

She shrugs. “Summer ended, I guess. Plus, if you ask me, she’s not the most interesting person, but I’m not sure it was her personality he was after.” Ashley accepts a marshmallow roaster stick from a nearby guy with a smile of thanks. “She bunked with Christa last year. That didn’t go over so well.”

I fish out two jumbo marshmallows from the bag and hand them to her, while stealing another glance. Olivia, or “Miss Sunoco,” is moving in on Kyle, her hips casually swaying to the languid beat of the moody alternative music playing over a portable radio, her long golden-brown hair flipping with every exaggerated laugh. Does he find her interesting, I wonder?

“He’ll never go for Olivia,” Ashley says as if reading my mind, her eyes on the two of them as she shifts a few steps to hold her stick high above the flames. “She’s a total one-upper. You’ll see what I mean soon. And she’s always talking about money. About their big house, and their cars, and where they’re going on vacation. Kyle can’t stand girls like that. That’s what Eric told me, anyway.”

Noted. So I shouldn’t mention . . . basically anything about my life around him. “Who’s Eric?”

“Kyle’s partner in crime. That one over there.”

I follow the jut of her chin to a guy across from us, busy dousing himself with bug repellent. I’d noticed him earlier. He stuck by Kyle’s side during orientation and dinner.

“He’s cute.” In a Ryan Phillippe sort of way, with dark blond curls that hug his scalp and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“He’s a loudmouth and a goof.” Ashley chews her bottom lip as if considering her next words. “Last year, Kyle told me Eric said I was pretty.” She laughs nervously and shakes her head, as if brushing it off.

I frown. “You don’t believe him?”

“Come on . . . Guys don’t like girls with this many freckles.” A flush crawls up her neck. “Especially not guys like Eric.”

“That’s not true.” I can’t deny that I pitied her for those freckles when I first saw her. But only hours later, I can see that Ashley has a lithe, natural way about her, and when she smiles, her entire face transforms. She’s one of those people who, the more you get to know them, the more attractive they become, wild hair, freckles, and all.

I study Eric again. He’s put down the can of bug spray and is now having a whispered conversation with another guy, their attention veering to Kyle and Olivia across the way, impish smiles on their lips. “Would Kyle do something like that to you?” Because playing on an insecure girl’s emotions like that would make him a douchebag.

Ashley’s brow furrows, as if she’s giving that question serious thought for the first time. “No. I guess he wouldn’t. I mean, they both joke around, but they’re not mean-spirited.”

“So then . . . you and Eric?”

“What?” She giggles. “No. We’re not compatible. Eric’s a Sagittarius and I’m a Pisces. It would never work.”

I wait for her to crack a smile, or laugh. Something to tell me she didn’t just invoke unsuitable zodiac signs as a valid reason for avoiding a hookup.

Her face remains serious.

“Anyway, Eric was messing around with someone else, like, a week after Kyle told me that, so he couldn’t have been that into me—”

“Freckles!” Eric hollers, attracting everyone’s attention as he marches toward us.

Including Kyle’s.

I feel my body naturally stand up straighter.

“Stop calling me that!” Ashley’s scowl quickly fades to a smile as Eric rounds the bonfire. “God, you’re so tall now!”

With a wide grin, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a friendly hug. “Yeah. Late growth spurt, I guess.”

They break apart and she playfully pokes him in the ribs. “You never emailed me.”

“You know how it is when you leave here.” His inky blue eyes flip to me. “So? Who’s your new friend?”

Ashley waves dramatically toward me. “Piper, this is Eric. Eric . . . Piper.”

He offers his hand and I take it, but the handshake quickly morphs into a weird slap-snap-flap move that leaves my hand frozen midair, my eyebrows raised in surprise, feeling foolish.

Eric frowns with astonishment. “Wow. You’ve really never been to Wawa before.”

“Uh . . . no.”

“ ’Cause you know, there’s a secret handshake.”

“There’s a secret handshake?” I echo, feigning shock.

He grins. “Oh, yeah, there’s a secret handshake. Better learn it fast because you’ll be doing it a thousand times this summer.”

“Ten thousand times,” comes a throaty male voice. I turn to find Kyle standing beside me, close enough that I can smell the mix of Deep Woods bug spray and whatever hair product he uses to get his hair to stay up.

He must have broken free of Olivia’s advances and made a beeline here as soon as he saw his best friend approaching. I swallow, forcing down the swirl of giddiness over that thought. “Ten thousand. That’s a lot.”