Dustin Blake, that was his name, our substitute mentor, who had stepped in to replace Mr. Lume, who had had an unfortunate accident just two days into the three-week summer camp.

Dustin Blake, incidentally, was also the name of the boy who had moved next door to us a week ago. I had developed an instant crush on him as soon as our eyes had met- while emptying trash- the same day.

Ironically, both were the same person. This was something that I hadn't expected, for I had agreed to suffer three weeks of phoneless existence as suggested by my mom, four days after the 'trash encounter' had happened, primarily to escape Dustin.

"Don't I know you?" Dustin's dark hazel, deep-set orbs, which complemented his mop of wavy golden brown hair, narrowed.

I nodded, averting my gaze, and a split second later,  he snapped his fingers, "The dumpster girl!" He exclaimed excitedly.

'Great first impression you left on him, didn't you, Gretna?' I sighed and nodded again as muffled giggles and suppressed snorts, all directed at me, made my cheeks grow warm.

"That's enough!" Dustin bite out, silencing the mockery. He approached me and patted my head in a brotherly fashion, "I am sorry, Gretna. That came out wrong. I am actually glad that there is at least one familiar face here." This put an end to the smirks that had replaced the giggles and snorts.

I bobbed my head and finally looked up at him. So contagious was his charming smile that despite feeling embarrassed, I returned it.

When the crowd dispersed, Dustin asked me to hang back; he spoke in a voice filled with sincerity and embarrassment. "I am truly sorry, Gretna. I hope you can look past my inconsiderate display of excitement."

"Mn." That is the only reply I could bring myself to offer.

He sighed and walked away.

A week later, the apology count had gone up to six, with each one leaving me more flustered than the last.

Ten days into the summer camp, which felt like a decade of toiling in the harsh sun, muddy and stinky from the 'it can barely pass for a bath' situation, Dustin had finally stopped apologizing. Around the same time, a rumor started spreading through the camp that spoke of a 'lucky one' who had stolen the mentor's heart.

A spark ignited in my heart; hope, I called it and waited.

On the last day, my eyes scanned the parking lot and settled on the object of my- three and a half week old- desire.

My hopes took flight as Dustin walked towards me and handed me an envelope, "Gretna, could you pass it on to your brother?" He requested. Giving me a lop-sided smile, he added, "I hope you can put in a good word."

Then, winking, he left me alone, waiting to return home, to serve my crush to my brother on my broken-hearted platter.