Every Summer Has A Story

Ch. 1 - A Wabanaki Welcome

Eve McKinley held her introductory packet in shaking hands, thumbing through the directory of her new coworkers with a pinched expression. She'd done her homework, of course, but her stomach pitched anyway when her thumb stopped mid-page. There it was in bold, black ink: Eve McKinley, Nurse/Health Director. She blew a few errant strands of hair from her face and quickly scanned the remaining names on the first page, anticipation and excitement bubbling up until her toes began to wiggle. After ten years of incessant nagging, Eve's childhood best friend had finally talked her into summer camp. Well, summer camp counseling, to be specific. Eve still couldn't believe she had filled out the application to begin with, but Auden was crafty. She planted a well-orchestrated idea when snow was still on that ground that camp could offer an internship opportunity. Eve knew the extra practice would prove useful in her medical career and working with kids would be a bonus. Auden played the long game and came out with a victory. With a resigned sigh, Eve reluctantly tucked the large envelope under her arm and peered up at the giant pine trees. Everything was luscious and deeply evergreen, a stiff breeze rolling in off Lake Michigan carrying the earthy scent of wet dirt and summer time to her nose. It wasn't entirely unpleasant.

She shook back her waist-length brunette curls and sucked in a few drags of damp air, nervously adjusting her travel-rumpled clothing. With a frustrated sound, she yanked her favorite white shorts down over her full hips, cursing her curves for the hundredth time that day. Her simple magenta tank top, a color she often selected to off-set her cerulean eyes, was markedly wrinkled after the long car ride and she struggled to ignore it. Eve gave herself a final shake and started walking towards the biggest building, hoping it would turn out to be Algonquin Lodge.

"If I can graduate Magna Cum Laude from The University of Michigan, I can do summer camp," she assured herself silently, quickening her pace.

She padded up the sidewalk and felt a flood of relief to see a big sign heralding her arrival at Algonquin Lodge. She'd managed to find the right place. Eve stepped onto the big front deck of the lodge and marched straight for the double doors. She walked with purpose, hoping to squash the nerves and maybe even look like she belonged there. Once inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness. Algonquin was open and airy; the sight lines went straight back to the wall of windows overlooking pristine Lake Michigan and some impressive sand dunes. A series of offices lined the wall to her left and the smell of hot dogs wafted toward her from what looked to be a kitchen and cafeteria down another hallway. 

It was almost sensory overload. 

Eve shuffled in quietly and stopped at a giant red rug in the center of the room. It was plush, but well loved. She was admiring the intricate woven designs when suddenly she noticed a man sprawled out on the rug's epicenter. He appeared to be either staring up at the ceiling or napping, but he certainly wasn't stirring. Eve swallowed a few times, weighing her options. She glanced down at her map. What she assumed to be her office, labeled "The Infirmary", was within eye shot and she decided to make a break for it.

Eve began tip-toeing around the rug when a low voice rumbled up at her,

"You must be new here."

She stopped and smirked,

"Well, aren't you observant?"

The blonde haired man jumped to his feet and immediately towered over her 5'2 frame. Unperturbed, Eve squared her jaw and looked up to met his eyes. Blue bore into blue, unwavering, and Eve startled slightly when he spoke again.

"Actually, I'm Maverick."

Her smirk faded for a moment as she took in Maverick's strong jaw and broad shoulders. His appearance screamed 'mountain man'. Dressed in cargo shorts and a black Camp Wabanaki sweatshirt, Maverick looked every bit the "lifer" Auden had described. An assortment of carabiners hung from his shorts, a silver whistle encircled his neck, and a large black radio hung on his hip.