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foreveralwaysanauthor · 2 years ago

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Camp Wanamaker (Ch. 4/10)

July 8, 2023

Notes - As I said in my last post, I finished this earlier than expected and, honestly, I'm glad I did. However, all it did was drive my desire to write legitimately anything else 😫 I also have come to the realization that this month will be particularly busy for me as I now have to help with my church's summer program on top of work and everything. I still plan on getting things done, but it might take a bit more effort than usual, that's all. Anyway, there are quite a few parts in this chapter that I changed from the original idea, but I like this outcome far better, so I suppose it was worth it in the end haha.

Chapter 4 - Suddenly I See

The gentle breeze that blew in through the open window filled the small bedroom with the warmth of summer and the faint smell of the nearby lake. Water lapped gently against the shore, and for a fleeting moment, Carrie was sure she had fallen asleep on the beach. However, as crystalline blue eyes peeled open and stared up at the wooden logs that made up the ceiling of her room, she realized the truth. She was still at Camp Wanamaker, still holed up in her room after a long night on the beach. From what she could recall, the night before had been full of excitement - sitting around the small fire they had made on the beach after dinner in the mess hall, listening to everyone rant and rave about their experiences throughout the week.

Distantly, she recalled Vivien’s aunts arriving at camp and listening to stories of the different shows they had gone to see and the adventures they had gone on during their time away. The women divulged their new roles at the camp, and while Carrie was glad she and Riven had another set of hands willing to help them in the playhouse, she was more excited to get to know Charlie and her side of the events Vivien had told the blonde about prior. If things truly did transpire the way Vivien said they did, Charlie was in a similar position with Vivien as Carrie was with Royce and Bentley. With any luck, the older woman would have some insight into how to handle things with the two boys. The pink-haired woman was approachable and had seemed keen to talk with her at the campfire, supposedly having heard all about Carrie from Vivien’s never-ending calls and text messages, so Carrie could only hope the woman wouldn’t mind her prying.

Making her way to the window to see what the day had in store, Carrie sighed; she would do just about anything to find some sort of common ground with Miles’ brothers. Miles adored the boys with every fiber of his being, and while Carrie knew their bond was strong, it was exceedingly difficult to get either of the younger Murphy boys to talk with her unless they absolutely had to. Bentley was somewhat easier to converse with - approaching the blonde more than once in the playhouse during their stay at the camp and allowing the conversations to flow between them like water. Royce, on the other hand, was more standoffish. While their time together in the kitchen during their trial week had gone well, and they had gotten past whatever invisible barrier was between them enough that Royce hadn’t insulted her under his breath or made any snide comments during their time together, things had reached a bit of a stalemate. He hadn’t outright done or said anything against her since then, but then again, they hadn’t really had much time to spend together since the campers had begun arriving at camp.

Well, Carrie couldn’t exactly say that. She had plenty of time. The playhouse was still being set up, the actors hadn’t been chosen yet, and the script was being worked on still, so those in the playhouse had been allotted more time in the afternoons to do as they pleased than most of the others. Riven had told her not to worry about not spending the whole day in the playhouse at first, as it was fairly normal, so she had spent most of her free time either in the music hall, exploring the camp, or hanging around the snack stand by the pool, talking with Erica and Jade who had taken a liking to having someone other than Noah, the lifeguard, to talk with. It was only after watching him spend the whole week wandering the grounds on his own that she realized that she could have spent her afternoons with Bentley, keeping him company and helping him find things to do while everyone else was busy.

Miles had confided in her that Bentley wasn’t fond of being alone, the same way Vivien wasn’t, and while Carrie knew Vivien was fine in the music hall with Miles all day, Bentley had been left practically alone, spending time in the art barn or wandering camp like a lost puppy. She wondered if Bentley would mind her tagging along until things were done at the playhouse. Grabbing some clothes to change into and making her way to the bathroom to get ready for the day, Carrie took in a slow, relaxing breath and smiled to herself. She wouldn’t know the answer until she asked.

Once Carrie had readied herself for the day, she made her way to the living room, where she found the trio who somehow always managed to be up at the crack of dawn as well as Vivien’s birth mother and the woman’s wife. The children had taken up some of the couch cushions whilst Hayley and Charlie filled a loveseat with ease; Charlie’s legs draped over Hayley’s thighs as the pair talked about their trip and showed the three teenagers some pictures. Charlie, as she was facing the hallway where the bedrooms were, was the first to notice Carrie’s arrival, giving the blonde a brilliant smile and a waving wiggle of her fingers.

Carrie waved in return, perching herself on the arm of the couch with a smile as she said, “You guys are up early.”

“We usually get up early to get in a few laps at the pool,” Hayley claimed, “but we saw these three were up when we walked by, so we chose to stay and talk for a while instead.”

Vivien turned toward Carrie with a smile and explained, “They were just about to give me a sneak peek at what they got me while they were on vacation.”

Charlie shook her head with a smile, “Nice try, sunshine.”

“You’re not getting anything out of us until your birthday,” Hayley stated.

“But my birthday isn’t for another month,” Vivien complained. “You can’t just tell me that you got me something epic and not expect me to try to find out what it is!”

“We can and we will,” Charlie said. “All you need to know is that you’ll absolutely love it, no matter how long it takes you to find out.”

Slumping in her seat with an overdramatic huff, Vivien let her head fall onto Royce’s shoulder as she whined, “You try, Rolls. They like you more than me.”

With a snort, Royce smirked, “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Depends on the day,” Hayley quipped with a shrug, earning a gasp of disbelief from her niece.

Turning to Bentley next, Vivien pleaded, “Bentley, you’ll help me, right?”

Bentley’s gaze fell on the two women who watched him with matching smirks, and he smiled in return before turning back toward Vivien. “Sorry, Viv, I don’t think it’ll work. They’d see right through me.”

In a last-ditch effort, Vivien pushed herself from the couch and draped her arms around Carrie’s shoulders, mustering her best puppy eyes as she peered at the blonde. “Carrie,” she began, an almost wounded tone in her voice, “you love me, don’t you?”

Snickering as she brought an arm around Vivien, Carrie nodded, “Sometimes I wonder why, but yes, I do.”

“In that case, will you please help me get some information out of those two very mean ladies over there?” Vivien pleaded, batting her eyelashes at the blonde in the vain hope that it would convince the actress to help.

“These ‘mean ladies’ can hear you, you little shit,” Hayley said, amusement clear in her tone.

Carrie chuckled as she glanced at Vivien’s aunts. Finding Vivien’s eyes once more, Carrie stage whispered, “I think they might already know you’re trying to get me to help.”

Letting her head hit Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien sighed, “Well, damn.”

Smiling at the brunette, Carrie patted Vivien on the back and suggested, “Maybe you can try roping Miles into helping you. You know he’s weak when it comes to those eyes of yours.”

Reviving almost instantly, Vivien beamed, “Maybe I’ll add in a little nickname or two - that always breaks him.”

“Like a twig,” Carrie nodded.

Vivien squeezed Carrie as tightly as she could, thanking her before bounding off down the hall to where Carrie knew her boyfriend was still likely fast asleep. Shaking her head as she let out a soft laugh, Charlie brought Carrie’s attention back to the present as she spoke, “Some things never change.”

Hayley nodded beside her, “And, for some reason, I’m grateful she’s one of those things.”

Deciding then was her chance to get some information from Charlie, Carrie asked, “Has she always been so close with the two of you?”

Charlie let out a bark of laughter, “Definitely not with me.”

The pink-haired woman had Bentley’s attention almost instantly as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Instead of allowing the woman beside her to answer, Hayley spoke, “Viv and I have always been close, but things between her and Charlie weren’t always sunshine and daisies.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘sunshine and roses’?” Royce wondered.

“It is,” Charlie nodded, patting her wife’s arm as she spoke, “but Hails here hates roses.”

Royce made a noise of understanding as Carrie spoke up, “You guys seem to get along really well, though.”

“We do now,” Charlie agreed. “At first, though, it was like a constant battle.”

“Vivien was a feisty little spitfire,” Hayley smiled, thinking back on the days when her niece would glare daggers at the woman she now adored, hoping the pink-loving woman would leave so that she could spend time with her aunt.

“‘Was’?” Charlie chuckled. “That little shit did everything short of arson to try to make the two of us break up.”

“She was nothing if not determined,” Hayley sighed. “Between her picking fights, starting screaming matches, and the endless silent treatments, I was sure you would eventually get sick of her nonsense and leave once you’d had enough of dealing with her.”

Charlie beamed, proud of the fact that she had stuck it out through Vivien’s roughest years, “But I’m still here almost ten years later.”

“That you are,” Hayley smiled.

Bentley’s eyes slid from the woman to his brother as he tried to nudge Royce in the side without being caught. The story sounded all too familiar, and, if Bentley had noticed the similarities, he was sure Royce had too. Vivien hadn’t always been close with Charlie, just the same as they weren’t close at all with Carrie. If Charlie had somehow managed to gain Vivien’s trust over time, did that mean that, eventually, they would find some sort of friendship with Carrie if she stayed with Miles? Were they truly living through the same thing Vivien had years prior?

Wide blue eyes met a pair of fiercely determined caramel ones as Royce turned to Bentley with a hardened stare. Although Bentley knew Royce wasn’t entirely ready to give up their efforts to break Carrie away from Miles, he hoped his brother wouldn’t go too far. Swallowing as Royce allowed his focus to drift back onto the conversation around them, Bentley let his gaze fall onto the hands he had kept in his lap. Maybe talking with Vivien and Charlie would give him better insight into how things changed over time. If anything, he could at least learn what had happened to make things switch so drastically. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Throughout breakfast, Bentley tried to pay attention to anything Charlie and Vivien said, hoping for something that could help him figure out what had changed between them. To his dismay, however, any conversation was drowned out by the others at the table who chose to talk about the upcoming week and what they were planning on doing while the kids were up in the woods for their wilderness week. As Vivien stood to bring her tray up to the counter, Bentley rose from his seat under the premise of getting another glass of juice and followed his brunette friend up to the counter.

Glancing toward Bentley and smiling, Vivien said, “Hey, Ben. You’ve been awfully quiet this morning.”

The unspoken question of his well-being was obvious, and Bentley sighed, “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About what?” Vivien asked as she handed her tray to the person behind the counter.

“You and Charlie,” he resigned. Making sure Vivien was following him, Bentley headed for the table of pitchers filled with different drinks as he continued, “She said you two weren’t always as close as you are now, and it got me thinking.”

“Oh yeah?” Vivien pressed, her eyebrow raising as she grabbed a cup from the stand.

Bentley nodded as he poured some apple juice into his cup, “Is there any way we could talk about what happened?”

“Of course,” Vivien smiled. “Do you want Charlie there too, or just me?”

After thinking for a moment, Bentley took a sip of his drink and said, “Just you, I think. I want to get to see both sides of it on my own.”

“Smart,” Vivien acknowledged with a nod. “Where do you want to talk?”

Bentley took in a breath as they began heading back toward their table, “I don’t know. Do you know any place where we can just sit without worrying about anyone interrupting?”

A smile spread across Vivien’s face as she nodded once again, “I do. Meet me up at the main office after breakfast, and we’ll go somewhere private.”

Curious as to where Vivien planned on taking him, Bentley nodded silently and made his way to his side of the table as they approached it. Vivien didn’t stay at the table for long, giving the others a brief farewell before declaring she was going to help her grandparents come up with a schedule for a few weeks out. With her presence gone from the table, it was only a matter of time before everyone else filed away. Hayley left soon after to meet up with the other lifeguards and get a feel for how they had started running things. Carrie, Riven, and Charlie were the next to leave as they had to make their way to the playhouse early so that they could start working more on the set designs for the play.

As the others began to leave, Bentley took his tray to the counter and handed it off before departing from the mess hall. The walk to the main hall was fairly short, but Bentley was sidetracked easily by the camp’s loyal guardian, who walked alongside him as he entered the office. It was easy for him to find Vivien as Ding took the lead, guiding him through the hall to an open door. Knocking on the frame of the door, Bentley alerted the trio inside to his presence and found himself practically pulled inside as Vivien excitedly waved him toward the desk she was sitting at.

Looking over the calendar on the desk, Bentley asked, “What’s all this?”

“The camp schedule,” Dawn replied. Sliding her finger from the second of July to the eighth, she said, “This week is wilderness week. Most of the campers will be hiking the trails up through the mountain, and the camp will be practically empty apart from meal times. Next week,” she slid her finger across the week below, “is a break week where it's just staff here for cleaning and prep for the next three weeks. The week after next week is Color Wars.”

“Color Wars?” Bentley wondered.

Vivien nodded, a beaming smile taking over her concentrated expression as she explained, “Color Wars is where we’re divided into four colors - red, yellow, green, or blue - and we fight to earn the most points throughout the week. The color team with the most points by Friday wins.”

“It’s one of the few weeks where we don’t have a program at the end of the week,” George added. “Everyone is too busy fighting for points that they don’t spend much time doing much else.”

Bentley smiled; it sounded like fun. “How many weeks do you guys have planned out?”

“We have a basic outline of the whole summer,” Dawn claimed. “Most weeks don’t have a special theme until we decide to add one. We’re trying to figure out a few more activity weeks this morning.”

“So far,” Vivien began, nudging her glasses further up her nose as she read, “we have wilderness week, Color Wars, and sports week.”

“That’s it?” Bentley asked. “Aren’t there, like, seven or eight more weeks of camp?”

Vivien nodded, turning her gaze back onto Bentley as she asked, “Any ideas?”

Bentley thought for a while. He had never thought of things to do at camp as he had assumed they had everything under control already. Chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, Bentley offered, “How about a murder mystery?”

“How do you mean?” George asked.

“Like a game of Clue in real life,” Bentley shrugged. “The counselors dress up as their own made-up characters and act out a murder mystery at every meal. It gives the campers something to work together to solve during the day and makes them all super quiet during meals so they pay attention.”

Beaming, Vivien said, “On Friday, they could put together the final show, and everyone could see if they had things right.”

“Exactly,” Bentley declared.

Scribbling down the idea and the concepts the children had pieced together, Dawn said, “Maybe we should get you to help us more often, Bentley.”

“We could always use another creative mind to work things out,” George acknowledged. “Now, what did you come in for?”

“Viv said to meet her here,” Bentley admitted.

Dawn turned to her granddaughter and asked, “Is that why you asked for the keys?”

Vivien nodded, “Yeah. Can we go?”

“Go ahead,” George said with a wave of his hand. “Just be back before dinner.”

Chuckling as she pushed herself up from her office chair, Vivien smiled, “We all know I’m not going to miss out on spaghetti.”

“Have fun, you two,” Dawn said with a grin as she watched Vivien take Bentley by the hand and pull him out of the room.

“We will,” Vivien called in return as she made their exit as swift as possible. Once they were out of the main office, she led Bentley toward the car she had left parked in the shade of a large oak tree and released him so that he could climb into his side of the car.

Slipping into the passenger seat, Bentley asked, “Where are we going?”

“Just up the road,” Vivien replied.

“Couldn’t we have walked there?”

“If you feel like walking for almost an hour uphill in ninety-degree weather.”

“Nevermind,” Bentley relented, grabbing his seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Didn’t think so,” Vivien snickered as she tugged her seatbelt tighter and slid the key into the ignition.

Vivien’s car started with a hum, and she pulled back out of her parking spot before throwing the car into drive and heading toward the camp’s exit. As opposed to Butchy’s truck, the smaller car had terrible suspension and bounced around the unpaved road like a pinball. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for them to reach the end of the road, but the pair sat at the end of the road for a moment, allowing their jostled bodies a moment of rest before Vivien flicked on her blinker and pulled out of the driveway.

Bentley looked around at the scenery, taking in the view of the rest of the town as they pulled past the tree line and into an area of good clarity. The houses on the street were few and far apart, but luxurious all the same. A few had large walls of windows, while others sported pillars on the porches and bushes that looked like the puffs of a freshly-groomed poodle. How people had so much money, he’d never know, but it was nice to look at, all the same. As the car slowed and Vivien, once again, put on her blinker, Bentley glanced at the indicator on the dash before looking toward the large house that sat fairly far back from the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked as Vivien turned into the driveway.

“Heading somewhere nobody else will find us,” she replied.

As Vivien rolled to a stop before the house, Bentley asked, “You know the people who own this place?”

“I sure hope so,” she snorted in return, turning the car off with a grin. “You do too.”

Confused, Bentley turned to Vivien with a raised brow, “Since when?”

“Well,” Vivien drawled, “you met my grandparents a few weeks ago.”

“Your grandparents own this place?!” Bentley asked in astonishment, gaping up at the large building before them.

“Partially,” Vivien confirmed. “Besides, you’ve known me for almost a year now, so I’d say you’ve known the owners for about that long.”

As Vivien popped open her door and climbed out of the car, Bentley was quick to follow, trying to sort through Vivien’s words as the brunette moved to the front door and slid a key into the lock. “So, let me get this straight, you and your grandparents own this huge house?”

“They’ve had it for a long time,” Vivien nodded. “They put me on the deed for it last year so that, when they move out, it stays in the family.”

As Vivien pulled the key from the door, Bentley asked, “How come they didn’t give it to your parents or your aunts?”

“My parents plan on going their separate ways once Abby and Olly move out,” Vivien sighed as she stepped into the house. “Aunt Hayley and Charlie, on the other hand, actually encouraged them to give it to me.”

“Do you plan on moving in?” Bentley asked as he followed Vivien inside and looked around.

“Probably,” Vivien shrugged as she closed the front door. “I don’t really need all the space, but it’ll be nice to be able to have people stay over and stuff.”

“Like us?” Bentley asked.

Vivien hummed, making sure Bentley was following her as she made her way toward the kitchen. “Exactly. I want a place for everyone to stay and enjoy themselves.”

While his friend opened the refrigerator and searched for something to drink, Bentley looked around. Despite the center island holding a bowl full of what looked like a tower of Oreos and the refrigerator being covered in artwork that had clearly been done by a small child, there was still a chandelier hanging above the marble countertops and a large wine fridge that showed just how expensive everything was. He couldn’t picture Vivien in such a luxurious place. Sure, her family had money - far more than Bentley could probably imagine - but Vivien never seemed to care about spending sprees or extravagant items.

A hand waved in front of Bentley’s face, and as he jumped, Vivien chuckled, pushing a can of soda into his hand before walking away. “Come on,” she instructed.

Bentley trailed behind at a slower pace, hoping to soak everything in as he went. Eventually, they came to a room with a large television mounted on the wall and a large, plush couch that enveloped them in comfort as they sat. Vivien popped open her can and took a long drag from it before setting it on the coffee table and turning toward the blond she had dragged up to the house, silently urging him to say what had been on his mind. Bentley followed her lead, taking a sip of his drink and setting it aside before clearing his throat and asking, “What happened between you and Charlie?”

“The two of them started going out when I was maybe eight or nine,” Vivien began. “Before that, I had spent as much time as possible with Aunt Hayley. She had taken me out to museums and concerts and it really helped me a lot while my parents were busy doing other things.”

As though he still feared being heard by someone, Bentley muttered, “Sounds like how Miles kept us busy until he moved.”

“It probably felt pretty similar,” Vivien nodded. Taking in a deep breath, she continued, “Anyway, when she told me she’d found someone over the summer, I wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea. I didn’t want to give up the time I had with her just so that some other person could come into the picture.”

Bentley’s gaze met Vivien’s as she waited for him to ask any questions he had. It was uncanny, really, the similarities he could see between himself, Royce, and Vivien. Instead of asking his friend a question, Bentley said, “You didn’t like her.”

“I didn’t,” Vivien agreed. “She’s the embodiment of the color pink, and Aunt Hayley, at the time, was this hipster who clung to her camera for dear life. I thought my aunt would go for someone cool and edgy, not Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony.”

“Sounds familiar,” Bentley mused with a sigh. “Is that why you found it so easy to befriend Carrie when you first met - because you had already found common ground with Charlie?”

“In a way,” Vivien admitted with a smile, “but it wasn’t easy to find that common ground with Charlie.”

“How come?”

“Because I didn’t make it easy,” Vivien stated, reaching for her drink once more. “I pushed her away and tried everything in my power to make one of them leave the other.”

Bentley’s eyebrow rose as he observed his closest friend, “Somehow, I can’t picture you doing that.”

“Be glad you can’t,” Vivien sighed. “I was a demon spawn, and everyone who was there can attest to it.”

Nodding, Bentley relaxed into the couch cushion and asked, “So, what changed?”

“We both did,” Vivien claimed. “Aunt Hayley left me alone with Charlie one day. She took me to the carnival in town and, after spinning around in the tea cups until I threw up, I took out all my frustrations on her.”

“What happened?”

“I won’t pretend I was nice,” Vivien chuckled humorlessly. “After trying so hard to get her to leave and fighting to get things to go my way, I just had enough, and I slapped her.”

“And she let you?” Bentley pressed, bewildered at the thought.

“I was eight and had weak wrists,” Vivien stated dryly, “it didn’t hurt. It’s the only time I’ve ever hit someone, and while I wasn’t proud of it, she gave me a taste of my own medicine soon after.”

Bentley was sure his eyes couldn’t widen any further than they already had as he pressed, “She hit you?”

“It wasn’t as much of a hit as it was a pat on the cheek, but it knocked some sense into me,” Vivien admitted with a smile. “When we got home after a super quiet car ride, we apologized in our own ways and smacked each other around with pillows while we aired our respective grievances. In the end, we found that we had more in common with each other than we thought we would.”

“What happened when Hayley came home?” Bentley asked softly.

Vivien chuckled, “By that time, we had cleaned everything up, made some ice cream sundaes, and begun watching Harry Potter.”

Bentley smiled, a soft laugh falling from him as he asked, “Was she upset with how things came to be?”

“I think she was too happy about us finally getting along that she never once questioned why it happened so quickly,” Vivien pondered. “It was the first time in two years that I had seen Charlie as something other than my enemy and I think Aunt Hayley was just glad she didn’t have to keep me from trying to break them up all the time.”

“Do you think that’s what could happen with us and Carrie?” Bentley asked hesitantly.

“Maybe,” Vivien spoke, “if you play your cards right.”

The blond sighed; he certainly had a lot to think about. Taking a sip of his drink, Bentley realized that he now had to get Royce on the same train of thought. It wouldn’t be easy - in fact, Bentley was sure that getting an angry cat to take a bath would be easier - but if Vivien’s relationship with Charlie was anything to go by, they all would be happier in the end. He just had to figure out how to go about it.

While campers filled the camp the next day, finding their places in their cabins and figuring out which group they would be in for their wilderness trips, Bentley found it easier to hide away from the crowds. Holing himself in the art barn, Bentley pulled an easel over to where he had planned on sitting and unwrapped a canvas to place atop the wooden stand, grateful to have all of the art supplies to himself for once. Gathering a rolling tray full of watercolor paints and acrylics, Bentley wheeled them over to where he planned to relax and had just perched himself on his stool when the door to the art barn opened. Letting out a sigh, Bentley slowly leaned to the side, glancing around his canvas to see who had disturbed his solitude.

Instead of finding himself frustrated by the person, Bentley discovered a smile tugging at his lips as he waved at Vivien’s biological mother. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you would be guarding the pool.”

The woman chuckled, ditching her hoodie on a chair as she grabbed a smock from the hangers on the wall, “I would if there was a reason to. The groups just headed out for the woods, so there’s nobody looking to swim right now.”

“Ah,” Bentley breathed, wetting his brush in the cup of water he’d set to the side before dipping it into a pan of blue watercolor paint. “So you wanted to come down here?”

“I did,” Hayley nodded, grabbing a paintbrush and twisting her hair around it before sticking it into place. “I enjoy coming in to paint or work on embroidery in my free time.”

As if the woman didn’t already have a portion of Bentley’s attention, she sure did now. Bentley watched as the woman pulled up an easel and canvas of her own, setting up some gouache paints and gathering a container full of threads before sitting near Bentley with a smile. Bentley gave a smile in return before focusing on his work once more. Sparing glimpses at the woman, he wondered briefly if Vivien had gotten her entire style from the woman. They both seemed to favor old band shirts, had wrists full of bracelets, and, to top it all off, they both had bangs of some sort. With how similar they looked, Bentley wouldn’t be surprised if, by the time Vivien was the woman’s age, she still dressed like her role model.

If the woman knew Bentley was observing her, she never said anything, but as Bentley dragged his brush across the canvas before him, he couldn’t help saying, “Vivien told me what happened between her and Charlie.”

The woman’s forest green eyes found Bentley with ease as she cleaned her brush and asked, “Oh yeah?”

Bentley nodded, “I think she thinks it will make me and Royce try to be better with Carrie this summer.”

Chuckling, Hayley swiped her brush across the painting before her and asked, “Is it working?”

“I don’t think it’s working on Royce much at all,” Bentley admitted, “but I also don’t think he’s asked much about it.”

“You have,” the woman presumed. When Bentley nodded, she smiled, “I’m not surprised. You seem to be the curious type.”

“I do?”

“You do.”

Humming, Bentley returned to his art as he thought about the woman’s words. He had always been curious - something Miles constantly reminded him was a thing he needed to be cautious with so he didn’t get in trouble - but something about the way Hayley said it made him wonder if he had pried too far in asking Vivien to tell him everything. Choosing to inadvertently speak his mind, Bentley cleared his brush once more and said, “Miles says that it’s good that I like to ask questions, but that I need to be careful not to push too far.”

“Solid advice,” Hayley remarked as she glanced over at the boy, “but you don’t have to worry about that with me or Hayley. We’re open books to practically everyone.”

Grateful the woman had answered his silent question, Bentley smiled and asked, “Since I already know Vivien’s side of the story, can I ask you what yours is?”

Hayley smiled at the blond as she dipped her brush into a pale green paint, “Of course, but I thought you would want Charlie’s more than mine.”

“I’ll get to her sooner or later,” Bentley decided. “I just figured that it might be easier to see things how I’m sure Miles sees them.”

“Miles is the one dating Carrie, right?” Hayley asked. “The tall one with the bright blue eyes who relies on coffee more than all of the cops in America?”

Snickering at the woman’s description of his brother, Bentley nodded, “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Ah,” Hayley breathed. She took a moment to think, adding a few swipes of color to her work before beginning, “At first, I thought it would be the best thing in the world. I could bring the person I love most in this world and my favorite little person together.”

“I can’t imagine Viv being little,” Bentley breathed.

“I meant Charlie,” Hayley said with a smile, absorbing Bentley’s laugh with ease. “Although Vivien is my niece, I still see her as my little girl, and that love runs far deeper than any other - even my love for Charlie.”

“But isn’t Charlie your family too now?” Bentley asked.

“Yes,” Hayley agreed easily, “but I made it very clear from the beginning of our relationship that, even though Vivien isn’t my daughter, she will always take precedence.”

Bentley thought for a while, taking in the woman’s words slowly and allowing himself to process them before slowly speaking, “So even though you loved Charlie, you would give up your relationship just for Vivien?”

“Vivien may not be my daughter,” Hayley began, “but she is my baby, regardless of what the adoption papers say. I would do anything to keep her safe and happy, even if it meant breaking up with Charlie.”

Bentley sat in silence, finding nothing but honesty in the woman’s eyes. If she really felt so strongly, why did she and Charlie stay together despite Vivien’s hatred of the woman? “You would give up everything just like that?”

“Just like that,” Hayley confirmed. “The only reason I didn’t leave Charlie was because of how determined she was to put in the effort and make Vivien like her. I had thought about just throwing in the towel more than once, but her stubbornness and determination kept me from it, and I couldn’t be more grateful that I chose to hold out hope. If I had to guess, that’s probably the same reason Miles is still with Carrie despite both you and Royce not liking her.”

“You think she wants us to like her?”

“I do.” Returning to the artwork before her, Hayley spun her brush, adding a circle of light, almost white, yellow near the top of her canvas. “If she’s anywhere near as determined and headstrong as Charlie is, she won’t be giving up any time soon.”

Bentley knew just how stubborn Carrie could be; he had seen it many times before. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized just how many times over the last nearly two years he had seen Carrie try and fail to bring their relationship to some form of cordiality and how many times Miles begged them to at least try to find common ground with the actress. They had pressed him multiple times about his relationship with the blonde, asking him what he saw in such a woman and how on earth he had gotten to be in a relationship with someone so polar opposite to who they thought he should have been with. Miles had been calm through most of it, handling them and their questions with relative ease and trying to help them figure things out for themselves, but never once did he say anything about willingly breaking things off with her if they wanted him to.

“I don’t think Miles would give up on Carrie for us,” Bentley admitted. “There have been many times when he could have, but he didn’t.”

“Have you asked him to break up with her?”

“No, but we’ve questioned his sanity more than once,” Bentley claimed with a roll of his eyes.

“Vivien never did either, but if she had asked me to, I would have.” A ghost of a smile crossed Hayley’s face as Bentley’s eyes found hers, “In a way, I knew somewhere in Vivien’s mind, she wanted me to, but I held out hope that, someday, she’d see what I saw in Charlie and would begin to love her the way I did. If it didn’t, and she asked me to break things off for some reason, I would have because Vivien comes first to me, even if it comes at the cost of my happiness in a relationship.” Watching to make sure the young boy had taken the information in, Hayley smiled and admitted, “I’m sure your brother would say the same if you asked him.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

The confidence in the woman’s words and the honesty in her eyes gave Bentley pause. How many times had his brother contemplated giving up his relationship with Carrie just to appease them? If he was dealing with the same thing Hayley had, it had probably been far more than just once or twice. Taking in a deep breath, Bentley stared at his unfinished artwork and realized that, sooner rather than later, he would have to sit down with his brother and try to air his concerns. With any luck, he’d hear something similar to what Hayley had divulged. Then, as he glanced out the nearby window at the playhouse across the walking path, Bentley realized that if he wanted to see every side of the relationship, that meant he would also have to ask the she-devil herself. Great, Bentley sighed to himself, exactly what he didn’t want to do.

Deciding it would be easier to see Miles’ side of things first, Bentley set out for the music hall on Tuesday morning, following his brother up the hill to the old building as they talked about the new Transformers movie they had watched the night before. Though Vivien had initially followed them, she broke off when they reached the part of the trail that split off toward the pool, claiming she wanted to talk with Noah about something before the day went any further. Miles brushed off the girl’s departure and continued talking with Bentley, simply glad to have the chance to spend time with his youngest brother on what was typically a busy day.

By the time they had made it to the music hall, the conversation had shifted topics, and as Bentley perched himself in the cozy armchair Vivien usually claimed, he found himself taking a cautious breath and asking, “Can we talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Miles chuckled as he dropped into his chair.

“Well, yeah,” Bentley said with a roll of his eyes, “but I mean about… something else.”

Noticing the way Bentley’s eyes had drifted and how focused he was on fiddling with his shoelaces, Miles figured the topic had to have been eating at his younger brother, whatever it was. Attempting to make light of the situation, Miles joked, “If this is about how floppy the bacon was this morning, I have to say, I-”

“Miley,” Bentley interrupted curtly, hoping his brother would see the seriousness in his eyes as they met Miles’.

Sensing the importance of the conversation, Miles cleared his throat and turned toward Bentley, “Yeah, baby?”

There it was, the simple word that meant the world to Bentley. Miles had, according to Royce, picked up on the term of endearment from their mother, and, for as long as either of them could remember, they had always been called that. The gravity of a small, four-letter word had struck him more than once, but now, it seemed to have more power behind it - whether Miles knew it or not. Reflecting back on his conversation with Hayley the day before, Bentley recalled her saying that, despite Vivien not being her kid, she was still her baby. In a way, Bentley was sure Miles must have felt something similar after spending so much time practically raising both Royce and himself.

Taking in a breath, Bentley leveled his gaze on his brother and said, “I want to talk with you about Carrie.”

“What about her?” Miles asked, the small smile he had maintained faltering under his brother’s stare.

Despite his impeccable poker face around most other people, Miles wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to his brothers, his guard collapsing around him with ease. Though he hated to admit it, Bentley used this information and pinpointed the precise moments when hope left his brother's aquamarine eyes and fear coupled with hurt flooded in. It was easy to tell that Miles knew how serious the conversation was meant to be, and, while Bentley was grateful he was taking it seriously, he didn’t want his brother to be too worried.

Reaching over the gap between their chairs, Bentley took Miles’ hand in his and watched Miles’ tension loosen a fraction, seemingly grateful for his brother's quick squeeze. “Relax,” Bentley gently ordered. “I just want to ask you some stuff.”

“Like what?” Miles pressed in a breath.

Thinking for a moment, Bentley asked, “Are you genuinely happy with her?”

Taken aback by his brother’s question, Miles froze, his eyebrow raising as he replied, “I am; why?”

Avoiding answering, Bentley asked, “Do you want to marry her someday?”

“What?”

“Are you going to have kids?”

“Ben, I-”

“If you do, what happens to me and Royce?”

Startled by the complete curveball he had been thrown, Miles blinked and jerked backward as he sputtered some incoherent, half-sentences, and Bentley continued asking questions he didn’t have answers for. Righting himself, Miles took in a deep breath and took Bentley by the shoulders, cutting him off mid-question to ask, “Benny, what brought this on?”

Swallowing the lump of tension that had formed in his throat, Bentley spoke, “Vivien didn’t like Charlie at first.”

“Okay,” Miles began slowly, wondering where this non sequitur would bring them.

“They got close, and now they’re family,” Bentley continued. Miles nodded, and Bentley resumed his speech, “Charlie and Hayley can’t have kids because they’re two girls, but you and Carrie can.”

As hard as he tried to piece together the puzzle Bentley had dumped out before him, Miles couldn’t find where the two topics correlated. Giving his youngest brother a small, tentative smile, Miles said, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“It’s just…” Bentley’s voice faded into silence. Then, as he took a breath once more, he met Miles’ eyes and admitted, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Pushing the ball of pressure in his throat down again, Bentley muttered, “You kicking us out.”

Like a piece of glass being smashed in with a baseball, Miles shattered, reaching for Bentley with wide eyes as he stated, “I would never do that to either of you. Who on earth told you that you would get kicked out?”

“It’s only natural,” Bentley said with a shake of his head, taking in a shuddered breath. “If you and Carrie get married and stuff, it won’t be long before we get kicked out so you two can have kids.”

“Bentley,” Miles breathed, but he was quickly cut off by Bentley once more.

“With Hayley and Charlie, Vivien has nothing to worry about unless they adopt, and even then, she doesn’t live with them all the time,” he rambled. “You and Carrie can have kids whenever you want and after how Royce and I have treated her, I wouldn’t be surprised if Carrie convinces you to kick us out to make room for the kids you’ll have and-”

“And, if I thought that was even remotely close to being true,” Miles began, “I would have broken up with her a long time ago.” Using Bentley’s silence as a way to get his point across, Miles squeezed his brother’s hands as he said, “Even though Carrie and I have no intention of having kids any time soon, I know for a fact that the last thing she would do is kick either one of you out. Regardless of whether you see it or not, she does care about you two and is trying so hard to get that point across in any way she can.”

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Bentley asked, “She is?”

Allowing a smile to tug at his lips, Miles nodded, “Far more than you realize. She pays more attention to both of you and your interests than you might realize. Every time I drive her to work, she asks about you and the things you’d gotten up to. If you two would give her the chance to show it, you would be able to see just how deeply she cares.”

With a pensive look in his eyes, Bentley questioned, “Is that why you’ve stayed with her even though we didn’t like her?”

“There’s a list of reasons, but that’s a part of it, sure,” Miles agreed. With a thoughtful smile, he added, “In fact, she offered to lend me her car and give me gas money to pick you both up not long after I got your letter saying that you two had saved the money to come live with me.”

“She did?” Bentley wondered. Though he had tried to see what his oldest brother had seen in the blonde, he had allowed his vision of her to have been blurred by Royce’s distrust and Butchy’s distaste for the actress. At Miles’ nod of confirmation that the blonde had, in fact, offered such a grand gesture, Bentley asked, “How come you never told us?”

“It never occurred to me,” Miles shrugged, reaching up to brush some of Bentley’s golden locks from his face. “At the time, I was more surprised to see you both on my doorstep than anything, and as time passed, I found myself more occupied with caring for the two of you that I never thought to mention it.”

Letting out a breath of a laugh, Bentley said, “That might have made a lot of a difference.”

“You think so?”

Bentley laughed, hoping his emphatic nod would emphasize his statement, “Royce and I thought she was just this prissy, full-of-herself, wicked witch who had you trapped in some kind of evil love spell like in that movie we had watched where the octopus girl spelled the prince to fall in love with her instead of the mermaid.”

Letting out a snort at his brother’s warped description of his girlfriend, Miles shook his head, “She’s a lot friendlier when you get to know her.”

“Maybe a little too friendly with you,” Bentley remarked, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk.

Smacking Bentley’s shoulder, Miles scoffed, “Shut up.”

After sitting for a while in relative silence, smiling at each other, Bentley softly spoke up, “I think I might try talking with her tomorrow. You know, get a feel for who she is and all that.”

“Really?” Miles asked, hope swelling in his eyes once more as Bentley chuckled and nodded.

“She deserves it after putting up with us for so long.”

Smiling, Miles leaned over the gap between their chairs and pulled Bentley into a hug, glad to feel his brother’s arms come around his back as he muttered his thanks over the blond’s shoulder. Before he could say much more, the door to the music hall pushed open, and, with a curious tilt of her head, Vivien asked, “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much,” Bentley said with ease. “We were talking about Carrie, and I think I’m finally willing to give her a shot.”

“You are?” Vivien questioned skeptically. Bentley’s nod and Miles’ beaming smile seemed genuine, so as Vivien smiled in return, she said, “Well, it’s about damn time if you ask me.”

Rolling his eyes at his friend’s comment, Bentley relaxed into his chair once more and began thinking of how he would approach Carrie without scaring her off. In the past, he had helped Royce and Butchy with more than one torturous prank on the girl. He couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t feel uneasy by his presence and sudden interest in her. Taking a deep breath and glancing at Miles as he stood and made his way to the guitars that hung on the wall, Bentley thought of how at ease the actress was around his oldest brother. If he could treat her similarly to how Miles did, maybe she would be willing to speak with him. While he couldn’t approach her with a kiss like Miles almost always did - not only because it would be inappropriate, but also the fact that the very thought had him fighting the urge to throw up - but he could try approaching her with a smile.

Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d get a hug out of him like everyone else did.

Wednesday came and brought with it the invisible war paint on Bentley’s cheeks. In his head, he was preparing for battle, ready to fight the ingrained hatred he had for a certain actress to make some sort of progress toward a form of friendship he had once thought impossible. While it still felt nearly impossible, it was for an entirely different reason. Originally, the impossibility was willingly engaging in conversation with Carrie without one of his brothers or friends present. Now it had dissolved into the impossibility of getting the actress alone for more than five seconds.

His first plan had been to sort of ambush her before breakfast, using the early hours to talk, but given how easily he now managed to snooze his alarm and go back to sleep, his first plan was quickly scrapped, and he was hauled out of bed by Riven who told him to get dressed before Vivien chose violence. His second plan was similar to how he had managed to corner Vivien in the mess hall a few days earlier. That plan was also scrapped as everyone else seemed to get up from the table for something or another and had grabbed the blonde anything she needed while they were up. Bentley was officially on his third - and, hopefully, last - plan, which required him practically stalking Carrie, Riven, and Charlie to the playhouse.

“Spending the day in the art barn again?” Riven asked as he trailed alongside the blond boy.

Bentley was quick to shake his head as he softly answered, “I’m trying to spend time with Carrie.”

Confusion filled Riven’s expression as he reached up and slapped a hand to the boy’s forehead, “Why; are you sick or something? Trying to pass it along to her?”

Peeling Riven’s hand from his face, Bentley snickered, “No.”

“Are you sure?” Riven pressed rhetorically. “I can’t imagine you willingly spending time with her.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to try,” Bentley sighed.

“What changed?” the auburn-haired boy asked.

Taking in a breath, Bentley explained, “The other day, I talked with Viv and Hayley about how things were when Charlie came into the picture and, after hearing their side of things, I talked with Miles to see how he felt.”

“And?”

“It sort of made things make sense,” Bentley admitted. “Now, I just want to hear her side of things to see if Royce and I were wrong about some stuff.”

Riven hummed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked, “Well, if it means anything, I don’t mind spending all day with her in the playhouse. She’s fun, yet professional when she needs to be, and she puts in the effort to make sure everyone is having a good time regardless of what they’re doing.”

“You like spending time with her?” Bentley asked.

“I do,” Riven admitted. “Despite what Royce and Butchy say, she’s not the devil.”

“I didn’t think she was,” Bentley confessed.

“Maybe not,” the taller boy shrugged, “but I bet you’ve called her that because that’s how they see her.”

Bentley didn’t need to think about it to know. He had done it many times before out of habit, spewing out what he had heard them say just to feel included. “Maybe,” he muttered.

“Mhm,” Riven hummed knowingly. “Just do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” Bentley asked.

“Try to see her for who she actually is,” Riven said. “Push aside whatever you had heard from everyone else and get to know the real Carrie. You never know what side of her you’ll get, but you never know; maybe you’ll like what you see.”

Glancing ahead at the two women ahead of them, Bentley felt a smile tug at his lips as Charlie said something that got Carrie laughing hysterically. As they neared the playhouse, Carrie’s head turned toward the art barn and, subsequently, the library. After a moment, she turned to say something to Riven, but when she spotted Bentley beside him, she stalled. After what couldn’t have been more than a second or two, she bounced back to her smiling self and waved toward the boys before turning back to Charlie with something to say.

“Maybe,” Bentley conceded.

Normally, Bentley didn’t mind being covered in paint, but he preferred to paint on a canvas with brushes and precision. Spray-painting a gigantic hair spray canister in aqua and baby pink was certainly not the type of artwork he liked. It didn’t help that, with his job being kept outside, Bentley didn’t have a single opportunity to talk with Carrie alone. She was tasked with helping Riven and some girl with a name he couldn’t pronounce work on the photography ideas they’d had for promotion pictures they would eventually plaster all over the town. Instead, he was kept company only by Charlie, who came and went as she pleased and offered him company when she wasn’t busy preventing meltdowns and consoling scriptwriters who had to erase sections of their work due to it not making much sense in the grand scheme of things. Charlie wasn’t bad company by any means; she just wasn’t the person he had hoped to spend the day with.

As the woman with the pink braids came back outside, Bentley smiled her way and gestured toward the giant spray can beside him as he set down his can of aqua paint. “What do you think?”

“It looks great, Bentley,” she complimented. “What do you think?”

“It’s good,” he nodded. “It’s not my normal art form, but I think I did alright.”

“More than alright,” Charlie claimed, nudging Bentley with her elbow. “Give yourself more credit.”

The sincerity in Charlie’s eyes was as clear as the sky above, and the sight made Bentley smile, “Alright, I did a good job.”

“I’ll take it,” Charlie sighed, her smile ever-present. Perching herself on one of the stump seats Bentley had used to get some of the higher portions of the can, Charlie began speaking with a knowing tone, “You know, I have the feeling you didn’t come here to help us paint.”

Though Bentley tried to figure out a way to argue the comment without being rude, the look in the woman’s eye was impossible to fight, and Bentley found himself nodding in defeat, “Okay, yeah. I came down to try to talk with Carrie.”

“Yeah?” When Bentley nodded, Charlie asked, “What about?”

Sighing, Bentley took a seat on another stump and said, “I talked with Viv and Hayley about what happened between you and Viv years ago and it’s a lot like what Royce and I are dealing with Carrie.”

Nodding understandingly, Charlie guessed, “You’re trying to see every angle possible.”

“Yeah,” Bentley nodded again. “I’ve tried to talk with her a bunch of times today, but something always seems to happen to keep me from it.”

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling you that you shouldn't talk to her just yet,” Charlie mused.

“You think so?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Are you sure that you’ve seen everyone’s perspectives?” Charlie asked.

“I’ve talked with Miles, Viv, and Hayley,” Bentley listed, counting off people on his fingers. “I know Royce’s stance on the situation, but I’ll talk with him about it after. I think all that’s left is Carrie.”

Charlie sent the boy an amused smirk as she asked, “You don’t want my opinion, then?”

“What?” Bentley thought for a moment before realization filled his steel-colored eyes. “I totally forgot, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be, sweetheart,” Charlie laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “I just figured that I would offer you the chance to hear things from someone who had been in Carrie’s position and made it to the other side with her sanity mostly intact.”

Bentley thought about the idea before nodding, “I would like that.”

With a smile and a sigh, Charlie crossed one leg over the other and gave the boy her full attention as she asked, “Where do you all stand as of right now?”

“I think I’m ready to move past everything and try to be friends with Carrie,” Bentley admitted. “I don’t think Royce is anywhere close to it, though. I think he still sees her as the enemy.”

Charlie hummed, knowing all too well how the other end of that situation felt. Reminiscing on her past relationship with Vivien, Charlie grinned, “I remember those days.”

“You do?”

“Of course,” Charlie chuckled. “I spent two years vying for Vivien’s friendship and for us to move past the animosity she had for me.”

“Two years?” Bentley wondered.

“Two long, stressful years where I walked a tightrope, hoping Vivien wouldn’t push me off,” Charlie sighed. “I worried about every word I spoke, every move I made, and, at some points, I even worried about breathing the wrong way. My love for both Hayley and Vivien was the only thing making me continue walking that rope.”

“You loved Vivien even though she didn’t like you?” Bentley asked. When Charlie nodded in confirmation, he asked, “Why?”

Smiling, Charlie simply replied, “Because she was a part of Hayley.”

That seemed to take Bentley by surprise, and if he was being completely honest, he wondered how he hadn’t seen it that way before. “Do you think Carrie sees us that way?”

“Whether she knows it or not,” Charlie said, “she must care about you in some way if she’s dealt with you both this long.”

“We have put her through the wringer,” Bentley admitted softly.

“She’s a strong young woman.”

“I know.”

“You should see the way she watches over the two of you,” Charlie commented with a smile, glancing back toward the playhouse.

Bentley followed her gaze just enough to see a wisp of blonde hair turning away from the window. Smiling, Bentley asked, “Does she do that often?”

“All the time.” Turning back toward the boy, Charlie confessed, “Carrie pays close attention to you both whether you notice it or not. She checks to make sure you two are going somewhere safe on the way to the playhouse.”

“She does?”

“I noticed it yesterday,” Charlie nodded. “She can see the art barn and the library from near the playhouse and checks to make sure you’re either there or that you both are somewhere safe for the day. Yesterday, Riven had to remind her that you had gone to the music hall with Miles and Vivien. She’s protective, which is good.”

“Yeah,” Bentley agreed. “I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I like to think I’m good at observing people.”

Charlie suggested, “Maybe your feelings toward her had blinded you.”

“Maybe.”

“Or,” she began again, “maybe you just didn’t look close enough because you didn’t want to see her being nice to you.”

“That could be,” Bentley agreed.

“You never know,” Charlie shrugged. “Either way, though, you should know that, even though you and Royce haven’t been the nicest towards Carrie, she still cares about you the way I did for Vivien all those years ago. You both are an extension of Miles and, although we all know that she loves Miles, she has to love you both to some degree, or Miles wouldn’t stay with her.”

“That’s what Hayley and Miles said,” Bentley claimed.

“Then you should listen to them.”

“I’m trying to.”

“Good,” Charlie beamed. Reaching over to take the boy’s hand, Charlie squeezed it momentarily before saying, “Take it from someone who desperately wanted to have some sort of bond with her partner’s kid; even if it takes a while to work through everything, Carrie will love that you’re at least willing to try. It makes a world of a difference.”

“It does?”

Charlie’s nod was deep and her smile sincere as she gave Bentley’s hand a final squeeze and stood. “Let things happen naturally. You never know, you might just find that she’s far different from the expectations you put on her.”

Smiling at the woman, Bentley watched her leave as he thought about everything they had talked about. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to work through things with Carrie. Vivien and Charlie had gotten close even after everything Vivien had put her through, and that gave Bentley a sliver of hope that his chances of befriending Carrie weren’t as slim as he’d previously thought. Sparing a glance to the windows of the playhouse, Bentley raised a hand and waved at the startled blonde, who somehow managed to catch his eye. Carrie gave a quick, stiff wave in return before leaving the window to continue working. Chuckling to himself, Bentley shook his head and tapped the giant hairspray can beside him, checking that it was at least partially dry before bringing his mask up and grabbing a white can of spray paint. He was fine with waiting a little longer.

As though the spring months hadn’t brought enough rain, Thursday brought showers. As the rain had started overnight, the morning wake-up call also instructed campers to stay close to their cabins in case of any outages, and counselors were told that food would be delivered to their doors as the winds whipped through the camp. The only thing the weather was good for was clearing the area of humidity, but even that did little to make people happy with the idea of being kept inside. Board games were brought out of cabinets, and card games were hosted in circles on the floor, but, while most campers were lamenting their missed day in the woods, Bentley found comfort in spending the day with his family and friends.

Though he had intended on spending the day getting to know Carrie better, he found his chances slimming by the minute. He had tried to find a way to talk with her alone, but as everyone else joined in their games, Bentley had to remind himself that it had to happen naturally and that, regardless of how much he wanted to just pull her aside, he couldn’t. Monopoly ended as it always seemed to - Bentley as the victor, Royce claiming he cheated, and Vivien laughing as Riven playfully threatened to kill him… Well, Bentley hoped Riven was being playful. The Game of Life had everyone breaking into teams, and, by the end, Mick and Butchy had come to a slim lead over Charlie and Hayley and the reluctant pair of Bentley and Riven in third. Once lunch had passed, Mick brought out a murder mystery game called Killer in the Camp, and Carrie stood to refill her drink, giving Bentley a window of opportunity he hadn’t anticipated.

Giving Carrie a moment alone, Bentley stood and mentioned something about grabbing a snack before following Carrie into the other room where they had ditched the food and drinks. Carrie looked up as the floorboard in the dining area creaked, sending Bentley a smile as she uncovered the container of juice that had been dropped off with lunch, “Hey, Bentley.”

“Hey,” Bentley greeted in response, grabbing a bag of crunchy Cheetos from the box of snacks they had received earlier. Tugging nervously at the opening of the bag, Bentley turned toward Carrie and watched her pour her juice. After trying so hard to find a way to talk with the blonde, he was surprised by how anxious he had become now that the opportunity had arisen.

Looking up from her juice and raising an eyebrow, Carrie asked, “Are you alright?”

Taking in a deep breath, Bentley nodded and sighed, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Setting the plastic jug of juice aside and twisting the cap into place, Carrie turned toward Bentley so that he knew he had her full attention before asking, “Sorry for what?”

“For being such a…” he paused to take a breath, “for being so rude to you the last year or so.”

Brushing off the boy’s words, Carrie waved a hand placatingly, “It’s okay-”

“No, it isn’t,” Bentley interrupted firmly, placing his Cheetos on the table. “It’s not okay. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, but I just-” he stopped to take in a sharp breath and think of what to say, “I was scared that you would try to take Miles from us and it was easier for me to try to push you away than it was to try to be nice to you.”

“I could never take Miles from you or Royce,” Carrie said, taking a tentative step closer to the boy. “He adores you both with everything in him.”

Bentley nodded slowly as his gaze fell to the floor, “I know that now.”

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that I would try to take him from you,” Carrie offered, her hand twitching to reach for the blond, yet finding it nearly impossible to commit to the action. “I never meant for that.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bentley said with a shake of his head.

“Neither do you,” Carrie stated, hoping that when the boy looked up again, he could see the insistent sincerity in her eyes.

Instead, Bentley shook his head and met her gaze with teary eyes, “How can you say that when I was such a jerk to you?”

Giving into the desire to pull the boy close, Carrie closed the gap between them, bringing her arms around Bentley’s shoulders as she fought the burning sensation in her eyes. Blinking up at the ceiling, Carrie took in a slow breath and said, “You were afraid I was going to take away your brother and, in turn, the only secure home you have. I can’t be upset with you for something like that.”

Finding himself trapped in the blonde’s embrace, Bentley allowed himself to relax, his arms coming up to loosely close around her middle as he muttered, “You have every right to be.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it,” Carrie breathed, squeezing the boy just a fraction tighter.

Taking in the fact that Carrie harbored no ill will toward him, Bentley let out a choked breath, “You shouldn’t have had to put up with us for so long.”

“I put up with it because, believe it or not, I care about you two.” Pulling back enough to see Bentley’s face, Carrie swiped her fingers across his cheeks and gave the young blond a watery smile as she said, “It may not be nearly as much as Miles adores you, but even after all of the shit you two have given me, I still care about you guys.”

“I know,” Bentley claimed, allowing the blonde to hold his face hostage. Clearing his throat just enough to take in a breath, he said, “I talked to Miles a lot and heard from Viv and her aunts about what they went through. It sort of made me realize that pushing you away was just going to hurt everyone in the end.”

Dropping her hands from Bentley’s face and allowing Bentley to pull away a step, Carrie dried her face and smiled as she asked, “Do you feel up to telling Royce that?”

A snort of laughter came from the teenager as he admitted, “Royce might take some convincing.”

“Tell me about it,” Carrie snickered.

Taking a moment to breathe in the tension-free air between them, Bentley smiled at Carrie and asked, “How red are my eyes?”

“They’re not,” she said with a small shake of her head. “I, on the other hand, must look like a melted panda.”

Though Carrie’s makeup, if she had any on in the first place, hadn’t moved an inch, Bentley smirked and teased, “I was going to say raccoon, but that works too.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Carrie asked, “Doesn’t Vivien call those ‘trash pandas’?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Bentley claimed as he grabbed his snack from the table, “but if the shoe fits…”

Shaking her head, Carrie grabbed her drink from the table and watched the boy head toward the hallway before calling out to him. When Bentley turned, she said, “Thank you.”

Nodding, Bentley silently left the room, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in a breath of relief. After so long of seeing nothing more than a blonde she-devil any time he looked at Carrie, it felt almost nice to see her in a new light. Now that they had moved a step in the right direction, he had to focus his attention on helping Royce see the light as well. With any luck, they’d have things figured out in the next five years.

When the sun finally reappeared on Friday, most of the campers were excited to return to their wilderness trips. Bentley wasn’t entirely sure what they did on their trips other than pick up pinecones and shiny rocks to take back to camp, but they seemed to have fun regardless. While he could have easily tagged along throughout the week, he decided after a brief talk over breakfast on Monday that it just wasn’t his scene. He preferred to have the camp to himself, exploring all of the activities he could while everyone else was gone.

With most of the counselors and campers out of the camp, Bentley had free roam of the entire grounds, and most of the workers that guarded different areas had the day to themselves. The art barn was practically empty that day, as only Bentley had set up camp inside the log building. After a while of the constant silence that was only broken by his brush swiping across the canvas he was working on, Bentley grew tired of the quiet art room and returned his art supplies to wherever they needed to be before setting his canvas aside to dry and tossing his brushes into the sink to dry.

Making his way to the library next door, Bentley was surprised to find his brother gone from his normal post at the front desk. Asking around, it seemed as though nobody had seen him leave his station. However, there was one person Bentley knew could have some notion as to where his brother had gone, and, as he entered the playhouse and bee-lined straight for the blonde who was singing along to some song that played over the building’s speakers, Carrie smiled, “Hey, Bentley!”

“Hey, Carrie,” he greeted. “Do you know where Royce went? He’s not at his desk.”

Sure enough, the actress nodded, “I saw Vivien go in there a while ago. She was in her swimsuit and had a few towels, so my guess would be that they went to the beach.”

“Thank you,” Bentley said, quickly leaning in to give the woman a hug. He gave Carrie just enough time to instinctively put her arms around him before turning and leaving the playhouse without giving her a chance to say anything.

Smirking at the stunned blonde, Charlie slid up beside Carrie and asked, “How did that feel?”

“Bizarre,” Carrie breathed.

“It’ll take some time to get used to,” Charlie reassured her, patting Carrie on the shoulder. “Just wait until you’ve got both of them coming to you like that.”

Carrie chuckled, shaking her head as she met the older woman’s gaze, “Somehow, I don’t think that will happen any time soon.”

“You never know,” Charlie shrugged. “He might just surprise you.”

“He might,” Carrie allowed. Sighing, she admitted, “Either way, I doubt I’ll be ready for it when it comes.”

“Trust me,” Charlie began as she smiled a the blonde, “you won’t be. It will come when you least expect it to.”

“Great,” Carrie drawled sarcastically. Nudging the blonde with a supportive grin, Charlie turned and went back to her job, allowing Carrie to soak in the quick interaction she’d had with the youngest Murphy brother.

Meanwhile, Bentley took his time walking to the beach, relaxing in the knowledge that, regardless of where his brother had gone, he was safe with Vivien by his side. Waving to Noah and one of his friends as he passed them, Bentley kicked his shoes off as he reached the sand, not wanting to deal with a shoe full of sand later on. The last time he’d had to deal with that, it took almost a week to get all of the sand from his sneakers, and he could still feel the grit of it every time he wore that specific pair. One of his pet peeves, he supposed.

It didn’t take long for Bentley to find the pair sitting on the pier, a puddle around both of them as evidence that they had gone for a swim. Deciding to scare the pair with his sudden appearance, Bentley ditched his shoes under the edge of the pier and tucked his shirt under there for good measure before wading into the water, grateful he had worn board shorts to keep himself cool throughout the day. Hoping to make the least amount of noise possible, Bentley swam slowly out to where the piers met, just barely able to hear what Royce and Vivien were talking about as he approached.

“Now you,” Royce said. “What do you want?”

Vivien let out a sigh, leaning back against the wooden boards and staring up at the sky before saying, “I want a big, white house with purple shutters.”

“Purple shutters?” Royce wondered, his tone amused as he reclined next to his girlfriend.

“Mhm,” Vivien hummed, nodding against the pier. “The most offensive shade of purple we can find.”

“We’ll have to get Benny to paint them all,” Royce commented, the thought alone making Bentley smile. After a pause, his brother asked, “Anything else?”

Vivien was silent, but Bentley could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “I would love a big porch that wraps around the whole house. We can sit outside and drink tea and watch the sun go down together every day.”

“With my cat and your dog.”

“Naturally.”

A moment passed, and Royce asked, “What else do you have in that head of yours?”

“We need enough rooms for everyone to come and stay when they want to,” Vivien stated. “Your family, my family, my band, and our friends.”

Royce let out a laugh, “We’re going to need at least ten rooms, if we’re going all out.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vivien breathed. “We’ll have to put in a movie theater and everything, especially for football season.”

“You like football?” Royce asked.

Bentley could hear Vivien’s snort, “No, but it’s always entertaining to watch Butchy, Miles, and Mick’s parents yell at the TV, telling the players what to do like they can hear them from a million miles away.”

“True,” Royce chuckled. “So, what else?”

Vivien hummed before claiming, “We need a room overlooking the beach.”

“We do?”

“Of course,” Vivien confirmed as she sat up. “It’s gotta have large windows and a balcony.”

As Royce moved to follow Vivien, he asked, “How come?”

“For Bentley and Miles to paint to their hearts’ content when they come to visit,” Vivien stated as she began walking back toward the beach. “Why else?”

Bentley pushed himself further under the cover of the pier as he watched his brother lace his hand into Vivien’s and say, “That’s a great idea.”

As the couple headed back toward the lodge, unaware of the blond boy hiding beneath the wood of the pier, Bentley took in a slow breath. Letting their words sink in, Bentley watched Royce and Vivien disappear into the lodge and slowly moved from his hiding spot. While he knew that, eventually, Royce and Vivien would move on with life and get a house of their own, he had always sort of figured that it would be the three of them. Sort of like in that show Vivien loved so much where, even when Monica and Chandler moved into a new house, they still had a room for Joey.

Bentley thought that had been their plan. Once they felt ready to do so, they’d move into a place together. Together being the key word. Was that not what Royce and Vivien wanted? Sure, he had never asked them their thoughts on the matter, but he’d assumed that, since they were so close, they’d be together regardless. Until Bentley had a reason to move out on his own, that is. Did they really have no intention of keeping the gang together once they had a place to themselves?

Taking a deep breath, Bentley swam back to the shore, grabbing his shirt and shoes and drying himself off with a towel from the porch before making his way back toward the rest of the campground. If they didn’t want him around, that was fine. He could stay away. Maybe, if he gave them some space on their own for a while, they’d want him to stick around longer. Something about distance making people fonder and all that.

Not wanting to wander for long yet also not wanting to be alone, Bentley headed for the closest place he knew he would find people who wouldn’t mind him hanging around for the rest of the afternoon - the playhouse. Opening the door and slipping inside fairly unnoticed, Bentley looked around at the circles of chairs that had formed in what was typically an open hall, examining each chair before finally settling on the one that housed a certain blonde, her hair barely contained in a claw clip that looked ready to burst at the slightest movement. Feeling Bentley’s gaze on her, Carrie looked around before meeting his eyes with a smile, waving him over.

As he sat beside her, Bentley asked, “Do you mind if I hang out here for the afternoon?”

“Of course not!” Carrie chirped. “Actually, you’re just in time for us to do a trial run of the script.”

The actress inched her chair closer to Bentley’s, and as he looked over the papers in her hand, he leaned closer to her and muttered, “I can’t read it.”

Carrie’s smile seemed to broaden as she replied, “I know; that’s why I moved closer. I figured we could work together on it and take it at your pace.”

Bentley let out a huff of a laugh, “That could take a few hours.”

“That’s fine,” Carrie shrugged, her pearlescent smile ever-present. “All that matters is that we work together. If you find it too hard, I can always take over reading and you can give me your thoughts on the script as we go.”

“Doesn’t that sort of defeat the purpose of me working with you?”

Carrie was quick to shake her head, the movement testing the strength of the clip in her hair as it bobbed from one side to the other. “Of course not. I could always use an extra pair of ears.”

Skeptical of the blonde’s claim, Bentley raised an eyebrow as he asked, “Really?”

Carrie nodded, “Sometimes, when we read the script off the paper, we miss things that don’t sound right to people listening. It’s always useful to have someone else to just listen to the script.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Relaxing at the woman’s claim, Bentley nodded and allowed the blonde to hold the stapled papers between them, her excitement for the show contagious as she began listing off the character list and rambling about their personalities. Although Bentley had seen the movie a bunch due to Vivien’s infatuation with it and knew most of the characters by heart, he smiled and allowed Carrie to continue her spiel. Though he wouldn’t admit it just yet, he was happy to see the blonde so excited, especially because of his simple choice to join her in the playhouse. Looking across the circle to where Riven sat, watching them with a smirk, Bentley gave a small nod, which the auburn-haired man returned, granting the younger boy his silent approval. Smiling to himself, Bentley returned his focus to the actress beside him, silently wondering how on earth he had waited so long to see her as something more than an enemy.

After keeping himself particularly silent at dinner that evening, Bentley made his way back to the lodge with Riven by his side, trailing behind his siblings and their girlfriends. Riven had brought an arm around the blond’s shoulder, and while it was obvious that the auburn-haired boy had wanted to speak with Bentley, neither of them had chosen to speak thus far, and it seemed as though they wouldn’t begin any time soon. Maybe he knew Bentley needed his space, or maybe he just couldn’t find the words to say. Either way, once they arrived at the lodge, Bentley headed upstairs, planning on secluding himself in his room for the remainder of the night. Despite leaving his door closed and attempting to busy himself with the games on his phone, it seemed as though fate wasn’t on his side.

A knock on his door made Bentley jump, but after telling whoever was on the other side to come in, he let himself relax on his mattress. It didn’t take long for Miles to slip into the room, close the door behind him, and make his way to the edge of Bentley’s bed, where he sat. “Hey, baby,” he greeted.

“Hey,” Bentley muttered, clicking his phone off and setting it aside as he sat up. “What’s up?”

“Carrie told me that you spent the afternoon with her in the playhouse,” Miles claimed.

“I did,” Bentley nodded in response. “It was fun.”

“I’m glad.” Bringing an arm around his youngest brother’s shoulders, Miles smiled, “I’m not surprised you didn’t manage to convince Royce to join you.”

Bentley shrugged, his gaze dropping as he sighed, “He was busy with Vivien anyway, so I doubt it would have mattered.”

“What do you mean?”

Bentley gave a noncommittal noise before stating, “They’ve been spending a lot of their free time together and it feels like I haven’t been able to spend time with them much even though I’m not on a schedule.”

Nodding in understanding, Miles took in a breath before stating, “I can always ask them to make time for you, if you want. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

Bentley quickly shook his head. Though he desperately wanted his brother and Vivien to spend time with him, he knew that if they were going to do so, he wanted them to do it willingly, not because someone told them to. He didn’t want to be the unnecessary third wheel they grew to resent keeping with them. He wanted them to want him. “That’s alright.”

“Are you sure?”

Nodding as though he was reassuring himself more than anything, Bentley rolled his eyes and declared, “They’re probably just being all mushy and gross together and I’m perfectly fine being left out of that. When they want to hang out, I’ll still be here. In the meantime, I’ve been liking getting to know the real Carrie and hanging out in the playhouse.”

The blond’s segue had worked flawlessly as Miles beamed, “That’s great. You have no idea how glad I am to see you both spending time together.”

Bentley listened to Miles talk until the speakers throughout the camp crackled to life, announcing it was time to turn out the lights for the night. Once he was alone again, Bentley sighed and dragged himself to his dresser and changed into his pajamas before tugging his door open a fraction to receive some of the light from the hallway and slipping beneath his covers. He tried for a while to force himself to sleep, but it seemed fruitless. As Bentley worked up the desire to roll away from the window and onto his other side, he watched as the light from the hall that shone on his wall was blocked out by a looming shadow.

Faintly, he heard a soft, but not soft enough, girl’s voice mutter, “I think he’s sleeping.”

“Are you sure?”

Bentley tried to keep himself as silent as possible. He didn’t need Royce and Vivien knowing that he could hear them. The door to his room creaked open further, and as two sets of footsteps creaked across the floor, Bentley’s eyes snapped shut. Hoping his breathing seemed slow enough to mimic sleep, Bentley laid still on his mattress, listening as the couple inched closer. His bed sunk to one side as one of them knelt on the mattress, lolling Bentley closer to that side. Making a noise of discontent, Bentley rolled toward them, shifting onto his stomach as the bed moved once more.

“He’s asleep,” Vivien decided, her amusement obvious in her voice.

A hand threaded through Bentley’s hair, pushing it away from his face with a chuckle that he knew belonged to Royce. “I guess so.”

“Do you still want to join him?” Vivien asked.

“He’s usually a sound sleeper, but I don’t want to risk waking him,” Royce mused. “We can hang out in the morning.”

Though Bentley was curious as to what they had planned on doing if he had been awake, he didn’t want to make it obvious that he had been listening in. Royce’s hand in his hair moved once again, and Bentley felt a soft pressure against his forehead before his brother moved away, and the bed creaked as he got up. It creaked once more as an arm draped over Bentley’s back, and he faintly heard Vivien whisper a good night to him. As the pair moved away and the light from the hallway was blocked by their shadows once again, Bentley opened his eyes just enough to see Vivien and Royce leave the room, pulling the door to where Bentley had left it before giving each other a hug and going their separate ways.

Staring into the darkness of his bedroom, Bentley sighed and tried to force himself to sleep once more, knowing that, eventually, they would come to him with whatever they wanted to say. Until then, however, he would just have to wait it out the way he had originally planned - keeping his distance. Glancing down at the golden sun that dangled from the friendship bracelet Vivien had made for him to match the ones she had made for herself and Royce, Bentley wondered just how long he would be able to hold out.

Breakfast came and went in a flurry Saturday morning as many campers were in a rush to pack up their things and go, but there were some tables that had people who chose to let the morning pass by at its own speed and enjoy the company of those around them. Royce was one of those people. After spending most of his days in the library, doing practically nothing other than getting lost in the fantasy worlds that lived in the library’s walls, he had been glad to spend the week roaming around to different locations after lunch. Though he had spent little time in the playhouse during the week, he had noticed Bentley spending more and more time there, helping with painting set pieces and talking with the thespians who thrived within the playhouse’s walls.

Bentley loved to roam, a fact Royce knew all too well. However, he couldn’t imagine his younger brother willingly placing himself within the reach of their oldest brother’s girlfriend. As far as he was aware, they both couldn’t stand being near the blonde, but had to tolerate her presence for the summer as, if they were being honest with themselves, they had no choice in the matter. Whether they liked it or not, Carrie would be near them all summer. Royce had to admit, though, he loved annihilating her in the board games they played some nights.

By the time breakfast was over and everyone had gone their separate ways, Royce found himself walking his usual path to the library, ready to hunker down for a while with a good book. However, as he looked toward the art barn, he discovered that Bentley hadn’t followed the trail toward his favorite location on the grounds. Looking around the area, he smiled as he saw his younger brother heading into the playhouse with Riven.

“Hey, Ben,” Royce called from the steps of the library, offering his brother a wave and a smile.

Bentley turned, meeting Royce’s gaze and sending him a brief wave before silently turning back toward the playhouse and following Riven inside. Though the gesture was quick, and Royce could feel a twinge of hurt in his chest as Bentley disappeared from view, Royce took a deep breath and brushed off the interaction. Maybe Bentley had been caught up in a conversation or something, and Royce’s greeting had taken him by surprise. There were a myriad of reasons why Bentley hadn’t responded with his typical brilliant smile and enthusiasm. Glad that his brother was having fun with friends, Royce sighed and returned to the library, making sure to shut the door to keep the building cool before finding his way to the chair he had shoved into place behind the desk.

Grabbing the book he had begun reading over the last week, Royce settled into place and flipped to where he had left his bookmark. It was easy to get absorbed in the book’s pages, and it didn’t take long for Royce’s worries about Bentley’s behavior to flee from his mind as he let the fantasy world between the pages envelop him. All too soon, the signal for lunch echoed throughout the camp, and Royce tucked his bookmark back into place before setting it aside.

Stretching as he rose from his chair, Royce was none too surprised to hear the door open. His first thought was that Bentley had come to collect him, but as he turned, he found his girlfriend standing where he expected the blond boy to stand. “Oh, hey, Viv,” he greeted.

“Hey,” she said with a smile. “Is Ben here already?”

Shaking his head, Royce rounded the desk and asked, “Why?”

“He’s not down at the art barn or the beach,” Vivien replied.

“I saw him go into the playhouse with Riven,” Royce said with a smile. “He’s probably knee-deep in paint or something.”

“Alright,” Vivien sighed. “Well, when you see him, bring him down to the beach.”

“Why, what’s up?”

Vivien pulled the door open and stepped into the sunlight before sighing, “I figured we could have a picnic on the beach for lunch and talk about our plans for world domination.”

“Ah,” Royce breathed, nodding at his girlfriend’s idea. “Sounds good. We’ll meet you down there.”

As that was all the confirmation she needed, Vivien took off in a run, hoping to make up some plates at the mess hall before all of the good slices of pizza were gone. Chuckling at his girlfriend, Royce shook his head and descended the front steps, heading toward the playhouse with a smile. The doors opened just as Royce approached, and as Charlie tucked the door stopper into place, she said, “I was wondering how long it would be before you stopped in.”

“You were?” he asked the woman.

Charlie smiled, nodding as she said, “Your brother has been practically glued to Carrie today.”

The surprise that flooded Royce's veins must have been evident on his face as he glanced toward the playhouse, unable to see far inside due to the lighting. “He has?”

Charlie chuckled, nudging the boy, “Relax, would you. They’ve been working on the script together and he’s helping her with making sure everything sounds alright.”

Royce took in a breath and sighed, “Is he okay?”

Charlie hummed thoughtfully as she glanced back toward the playhouse, “I may not know him as well as you do, but he seems particularly quiet today. I know he talked with Riven and Carrie at some point today and they got him to open up a little, but he doesn’t seem as vibrant as he usually is.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?”

Taking in a slow breath, Charlie sighed, “I might not be the best person to answer that. If I were you, I’d ask Carrie. As I said, he’s been right by her side all day. She’d know more than I would.”

Though Royce had no desire to speak with his older brother’s girlfriend, he knew he just might not have a choice in the matter. Smiling graciously at the older woman, Royce thanked her before heading into the building, allowing himself a moment to let his eyes adjust before looking around for his brother. It didn’t take him long. Bentley was sat cross-legged on the stage, his knees bouncing as he and Carrie listened intently to whatever story Riven was spieling. Riven said something to make both Bentley and Carrie laugh, and Royce found it fairly difficult not to smile as he approached the stage.

“What did you say?” Bentley asked, his eyes wide and sparkling with anticipation.

“I told him to give me shit about it later,” Riven claimed, a lopsided smile glimmering in the fluorescent lights overhead. “I mean, he’s the one who said to get the interview with the guy who owns the old hospital - he never said how.”

Carrie was the first to notice Royce, sending him a small smile as she waved, “Hi, Royce.”

Bentley turned as Riven gave his own greeting - something about welcoming Royce to their favorite hell hole. The older of the brothers let out a chuckle and pushed himself onto the stage before sliding across to where they had gathered. “You guys do realize it’s lunchtime, right?”

“Yeah,” Riven shrugged, “but who needs food when you feed off of drama?”

“They’re putting out pizza,” one of the workers - Kitty or Kallie, Bentley wasn’t sure - claimed before shoving in another bite of the slice she’d taken back from the mess hall.

“Any meat-lover’s?” Riven asked. When the girl raised a hand with a single thumb up, Riven clapped his hands together and declared, “That’s my cue to leave, then.”

“What happened to feeding off of drama?” Bentley taunted.

“Drama doesn’t taste like bacon,” Riven fired back as he jumped from the stage. “See you after break!”

Bentley smiled as he watched Riven practically run from the playhouse, but as he turned to Carrie and found the amused gleam in her eyes, he couldn’t resist the laughter that forced its way out. When it finally died down enough that he could think straight, Bentley sucked in a breath and turned to Royce, who watched the pair as though they had both grown an extra head or three. “What’s up, RJ?” he asked.

Blinking himself back to normality, Royce said, “Viv and I are having a picnic on the beach and we wanted to see if you wanted to tag along.”

Sparing a glance at the blonde to his left, Bentley watched as she nodded approvingly in his direction before standing. Carrie ruffled Bentley’s hair briefly before making her way to the edge of the stage and hopping down from it, giving the brothers some space to talk. Glancing toward the doors on the opposite side of the building, Bentley lowered his voice as he asked, “Are you sure you guys want me there?”

Bewildered by the question, Royce asked in return, “Why wouldn’t we?”

Bentley shrugged, offering his brother a weak smile as he stated, “I’m your third wheel. If you guys want to spend some time alone without me around, I’m okay with it.”

The statement confused Royce more than it answered anything. Glancing toward the departing blonde as she reached the front doors, Royce pressed, “Did Carrie say something to you? I swear, if she made you think that Viv and I need time away from you, I-”

“She didn’t,” Bentley interrupted, rolling his eyes at his brother. “In fact, she and Riven actually helped me think things through so I wouldn’t go off the deep end.”

“Oh,” Royce uttered. Allowing Bentley to nod, he asked, “So, what made you think we needed space from you?”

Finding his brother’s concern-filled, caramel eyes, Bentley took in a breath before sighing, “You both did, actually.”

“We did?” Again, Bentley nodded. “How? When?”

“Yesterday, I went looking for you guys after I finished in the art barn,” Bentley began. “Carrie said you guys looked ready to swim, so I went to the beach to look there and you were on the pier talking. I was hoping to scare you guys, so I swam out really quietly and hid under the pier.”

“Okay,” Royce muttered, wondering where his brother was going with the conversation.

“You guys were talking about the future,” Bentley shrugged, his gaze falling to his sneakers as he fiddled with the laces. “Something about ugly purple shutters and ten bedrooms and a big room for me and Miles to paint in when we come to visit.”

Royce appeared thoughtful as he tried to recall the conversation. After a while, he nodded, “I remember that.”

“I just…” Bentley drifted off as he tried to think of the right words. “I guess it made me realize that, when we’re older, I’ll be all alone.”

Concern pushed to the forefront of Royce’s mind as he reached for Bentley’s hand and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Miles and Carrie have each other no matter how hard you try to break them up,” Bentley began, “and you and Viv will be happy in your ugly house. That leaves me on my own when the rest of you decide to move on with life.”

“The hell it does,” a voice chimed in from the side of the stage, and both brothers looked over to see Vivien coming from where the door led out to the back of the building. Setting down her well-balanced stack of paper plates and taking a seat with the boys, she said, “Even if Miles and Carrie eventually move in together and all that, you’re still stuck with us.”

“What do you mean?” Bentley asked.

“Regardless of what happens,” Royce began, “we’re going to stay together. Nothing can break up the dream team.”

“The three amigos,” Vivien continued, “the golden trio, the trinity of awesomeness, the trou-”

“Okay,” Bentley interrupted with a soft laugh, “I get it, but what does that have to do with how things will go when we’re older?”

“It means that, even if Viv and I move into a big house with horrendously purple shutters,” Royce began, jokingly shuddering at the thought and earning himself a smack to the arm, “it’s going to have space for you.”

As Vivien nodded, Bentley eyed the pair, searching their eyes for anything that would clue him into some private joke. When he found nothing, he asked, “Wouldn’t you guys get sick of me living with you?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily,” Vivien agreed. “Besides, do you really think either of us are going to buy a house and not have a room just for you?”

“Are you sure?” Bentley asked.

“Positive,” Royce confirmed, squeezing Bentley’s hand with a smile.

Vivien beamed, reaching for Bentley’s free hand before stating, “You’re stuck with us for the rest of our lives.”

“Or,” Royce began, “until you decide otherwise.”

A wave of relief brushed over Bentley as he took in a deep breath, glad to have been wrong once again. He was grateful. He had been wrong about Carrie, wrong about Miles potentially kicking them out, and wrong about Royce and Vivien eloping to Mexico and building a huge, ugly house on the beach just to get away from him. The more he thought about it, the more Bentley was glad he had talked things over with Carrie and Riven ahead of time so that he had some sort of cushion to fall on in case the conversation went south. While he was immensely grateful all had gone over well, he could only imagine what kind of mess he would have been in if he hadn’t taken the time to talk things over with the pair. He’d have to thank them later on.

Smiling at Royce and Vivien, Bentley sighed, “Thanks, guys.”

The couple’s swift, casual ways of brushing off Bentley’s gratitude were pushed aside quickly as Vivien pushed herself from the stage floor and decided, “Now, let’s get going before the food gets any colder than it already is.”

Bentley glanced at Royce as they rose from their spots on the floor, sharing a smile with his older sibling as the brunet wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led the way out of the playhouse. Walking down to the beach, the youngest of the trio found it impossible to wipe the smile from his face as Royce and Vivien blabbered on about things they hadn’t talked with Bentley about just yet. As they sat on the beach together and ate the mostly-cold pizza Vivien had gotten from the mess hall, Royce and Vivien found themselves relaxing as they listened to Bentley spill out everything that had happened to him during the last week, happy to simply listen to his cheerful ramblings and enjoy each other’s company.

#Camp Wanamaker

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