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.”

“It is,” he agrees with mock seriousness. “Soon you’ll be waking up to your hand doing the motions in your sleep.”

“Yeah, that’s not what your hand is doing while you’re asleep,” Eric retorts, earning himself a swift punch to the shoulder from his friend.

Kyle turns his attention back to me, his golden eyes glittering with amusement. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A blush creeps along my cheeks. Knowing I’m blushing only makes my face grow hotter. I wish the sky would plummet into full darkness right about now.

“I’m Kyle.” He holds his hand out and I eye it warily. A cute smile curves the corner of his mouth with the lip ring. “Nothing funny. Promise.”

His fingers are long and slender as they slip over mine, his skin cool to the touch. “I’m Piper.”

“Piper,” he repeats, his hand lingering a beat or two longer than normal before he releases me. “I like that. It’s different.”

“It’s definitely different.” And it has come with an arsenal of unwanted nicknames. Pipe Cleaner, before my stick figure began to fill out; Pipes, courtesy of my brother; Piper the Viper, from opposing players on the tennis courts—that one’s growing on me. And of course, there are also the gags. I’ve found more than one jar of dills in my locker this past year, and the guys’ swim team has taken to trailing me in the halls while whispering some stupid rhyme about picking their pickles.

Kyle slides his thumbs into his pockets and lets them hang in that casual way. “So, how’d you end up at Wawa for the first time ever, Piper?” He’s watching me so intently, his eyes—with a vibrant green hugging the pupils, I can see now—searching mine.

I have to clear my throat before I can manage words. “My mom used to go here, and she’s a firm believer that everyone should experience being a camp counselor at least once in their life, so . . . here I am.”

“Those damn parents, always forcing us to experience life and shit,” he murmurs, his lip twitching with amusement as he reaches up to casually scratch the back of his neck. His sleeve slips, showing off the edges of black ink. Seventeen and tatted. Did his parents actually allow that? Because mine are vehemently opposed to it. My dad has basically told me that every tattoo is a digit lost from my trust fund if he finds out.