Page 5 of Hide And Seek

She let out a sigh. “To be fair, I guess there’sonepositive aspect of having the Legacies around,” she said grudgingly.

“Yeah?”

“It’s probably better that I show you instead of tell you.” Her face had brightened just a tad. “This way.”

She did an about-face and led me in the opposite direction, past the arts-and-crafts building she’d shown me earlier, toward the western part of the campgrounds. Then she stopped in front of what had to be the most uninviting structure on the property.

It was small and weathered, the wood grey and slightly warped at the edges, with a little crescent moon cut into the door that made its original purpose unmistakable. A faded sign above the door readOUT OF ORDERin letters that had probably been peeling since the eighties.

“In here,” Jasmine said, twisting a key in the lock before pushing the door open.

The inside looked nothing like the outside.

Shelves lined every available inch of wall space, and those shelves werestocked. Chips, candy, cookies, gummies, chocolate bars, those little powdered donuts in the crinkly bags, multiple varieties of Oreos.

“Welcome,” Jasmine said, voice tinged with reverence, “to the Snack Shed. It used to be an outhouse about a billion years ago, but now it's the most important building on these grounds.” She leaned against the doorframe and went on. “The kids won't go near it because it looks so gross on the outside. And just in case, we also tell them that there’s still an old toilet in here. One that snakes like to lurk in. Hasn't failed yet. They won’t even go within ten feet of it.”

I picked up a bag of Takis. “Where does all this come from?”

“The Legacies keep it stocked for all the counselors.” Jasmine grabbed a handful of gummies and popped one in her mouth. “And before you ask: yes, that does create a slightly uncomfortable power dynamic, and yes, we all choose to ignore it, because the alternative is six weeks without a single bite of chocolate.”

I grimaced. “That’s one of the most depressing sentences I've ever heard.”

“Tell me about it. Camp Blackpine operates a strict clean eating policy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The parents want their kids eating whole foods. Nothing processed, no junk, andespeciallyno sugar. It’s the silent killer, as they say.”

“Jeez.”

“Anyway, we have to eat the same meals as the kids. Leading by example, you know,” she went on. She gestured broadly at the shelves surrounding us. “Hence…this.”

“What about s'mores?” I asked. “Please tell me they’re still okay.”

“On campfire nights, yes, everyone is allowed s’mores. It's the one exception to the no-sugar rule, because it’s part of the traditional camp experience,” she replied. “Ironic, isn’t it? The most nutritionally bankrupt thing on the menu is the one thing everyone agrees is non-negotiable.”

I laughed softly. “Well, I’m not complaining about that.”

“Me neither.” She grabbed her own bag of chips and nodded toward the door. “Anyway, you can take whatever you want from here whenever you want it. You’ve got a copy of the key on the lanyard you were given earlier. The deal is we all help ourselves freely and nobody breathes a word to the kids.”

“Nice.” I peered around again. “I have a feeling I’ll be visiting this place on a pretty regular basis.”

“I’m a frequent flyer too,” Jasmine said with a grin. “I’m pretty sure the Legacies only let us have access so we stay quiet and grateful, instead of causing trouble and getting it taken away from them. But hey… I’ll take it.”

“Hush snacks,” I said, lips twitching.

She snorted out a laugh. “Yup, that’s it.”

We stepped back into the afternoon light just as a small group of girls rounded the corner of the nearest cabin, heading our way. Jasmine straightened slightly and raised a weak hand in greeting.

There were three of them, and they were all moving with the particular ease of people who’d never once felt out of place anywhere. The one at the front was blonde and willowy, and she was dressed in the kind of effortlessly casual look that took either genuine taste or a lot of money. Probably both.

Her face lit up when she saw us.

“Oh my gosh, you’re one of the newbies, right? It's so nice to have some fresh faces this year!” she said, reaching out to touch my arm as though we'd already established that kind of familiarity. “By the way, I love your hair. It'sgorgeous.” She smiled, bright and practiced. “I'm Sutton.”

“Alissa,” I said.

The other two girls introduced themselves in quick succession. Grace and Maren.

“So where are you from, Alison?” Sutton asked. “Where'd you go to school?”