Campers and Spell Casters by Raven Snow

Author:Raven Snow [Snow, Raven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

What felt like mere seconds later, someone was tapping me on the shoulder. I woke up slow, blinking against the light of the disco ball and wincing as the loud music filled my now-conscious ears.

“Would’ve let you sleep,” a voice with a heavy Irish lilt said, “but you were starting to drool on the table.

“So sorry to disturb you,” I said dryly, stretching and hearing a myriad of joints popping. My body sounded like a toy gun going off in rapid fire.

Cillian shrugged, taking another swig of whiskey. “Where’s the big guy?”

“Working in the back.”

Which was true, he just wasn’t working for me.

I sighed, feeling more than a little sorry for myself. It was really too bad about the whole pregnancy thing, because getting drunk with an Irishman sounded just like what the doctor ordered. Of course, I’d hate myself in the morning for it when I had to go back to the camp from hell.

“Heard you caught a case,” Cillian said.

“Spying on me, foreigner?”

“You’re not nearly interesting enough to hold my attention.”

Snorting, I said, “And yet, you’re still in Waresville.”

He didn’t have any sort of reply for that, so we just sat in silence. He drank, and I wished I could go back to sleep. This whole working days and nights thing was a lot easier when I was a broke kid in Miami. Maybe the difference was that I wasn’t getting paid for one of my jobs, and the other was draining away a little part of my soul each night.

Although, I could say the same thing about my time in customer service.

The night was winding down, so I decided to close shop early. Grabbing Jeb from the office, we quickly wiped down the place and turned off all the equipment while the customers got out of their skates and into their tennis shoes. Unconcerned by the sight of everyone leaving, Cillian kept right at his whiskey.

Closing tasks done, I saddled up to the bar and raised an eyebrow at my drunk, Irish friend. “Am I going to have to call you a cab?”

But before I could call anyone, someone called me. My phone screamed from the waistline of my pants. I grabbed it and answered, thinking that nobody ever called after midnight with good news.

And this time was no exception. On the other line, Vic was practically screaming into her phone. I had to hold it away from my face or risk permanent ear damage, but I couldn’t make out a thing she was saying.

“If you’re going to tell me who was eliminated off that cooking show, don’t,” I said. “I’m recording it for later.” Beside me, Cillian rolled his eyes.

Couldn’t I get any sidekicks that weren’t crazy or sarcastic? Forget the “or”, most of the people I called backup were both crazy and sarcastic. I guess you surround yourself with people that most remind you of yourself.

“You’ve got to get down to the campgrounds,” Vic said. It was the first thing out of her mouth that didn’t read as a wall of sound.

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