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stuffing his contraband matches into his pocket. “Wishing is a waste of time. Or so I’ve found.” He blew on the smoldering twigs, trying to get the fire going.
    I gazed down at the dark swirls in the water below my rock, watching the current rush between the stones. I hadn’t been near a river in ages, and the sound of it reminded me of just how different my life was from the quiet times Dad and Mom and I had spent in the suburbs of Milwaukee. I missed camping with them in the north woods and even riding my bike in the cul-de-sacs near my house when I was little. It hadn’t been flashy, but it’d been peaceful. And it had all disappeared so easily when Mom got sick. I wrapped my arms around my legs, feeling the chill of the evening and the coldness of the rock beneath me.
    “You look far away,” Austin said. “What are you thinking about?”
    I put on a smile. “Um, just thinking about home.”
    “You miss it, even though your parents sent you here?” Austin asked.
    “Yeah, my parents…” I let the sentence trail away, not wanting to finish the thought.
    “They aren’t always what we hope they’d be,” Austin said, and his expression softened.
    I nodded. “And apparently neither are we,” I said.
    Austin laughed. “That’s true. But you can’t choose your family.”
    “Right. Because I’m sure my dad would have picked differently,” I said, only half kidding.
    “Now I very much doubt that,” Austin said. “My father, on the other hand, would have picked a son with a thirst for the hunt.”
    “What?”
    Austin colored slightly. “I mean, he’s on safari with my uncle right now, but that’s not my cup of tea. I’d rather sketch animals than kill them for sport.”
    “Oh, so you’re an artist?”
    “I draw a little.”
    “Uh…that’s art.”
    “Not to my father. He’d rather I play the guitar.” Austin sighed and added a few more sticks to the fire. I kind of got what he was saying. I’m sure my own dad wished I was a chemistry prodigy who could follow in his footsteps.
    “It must be weird having such a famous dad,” I said.
    Austin gave me a half smile. “Try infamous . But he’s all I have.”
    “You don’t have other family?”
    “Just my uncle…and there’s the entourage, if you can call them family. I spend more time with them than I do my father,” he said with a little laugh. “It’s hardly normal.”
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    “Normal’s overrated,” I said with a shrug. “Or so I’ve heard.”
    Austin smiled broadly. With the dying sunset highlighting his strong profile, I couldn’t deny it—he was cuter than I had first thought. Oh. I was totally staring at him. And he was staring back at me.
    There was this weird, awkward pause, and then he cleared his throat. “You’re undoubtedly cold.
    Perhaps I’ll just…” he mumbled, turning back to the smoky little blaze.
    I moved closer and sat on a log near the fire, watching him work. Maybe it was just the accent, or maybe he was seeming cuter because this was the closest I’d been to a boy since the night in the garden with Josh. My love life had been completely boy-free since the moment Priscilla rolled out the camp brochures. That was it. Boy deprivation.
    “Shelby? Oi! Would you mind finding some twigs?” said Austin, waving his hand in front of my face to get my attention. “This fire needs fuel.”
    I stood up, glad for a task to take my wandering mind off Austin. “Okay. I’ll look around,” I said.
    “It’s a little dark so it might take a while.”
    “You could use my flashlight!” came a call from down the beach.
    Startled, Austin and I looked up. Mr. Winters was leading Charles toward us. Charles dragged a backpack in the sand behind him.
    “Hello, lovebirds! What were you doing out here all alone in the dark?” Charles said.
    “We’re not lovebirds!” Austin and I both yelled at the same time. Then we gave