Crimson Summer Retreat is the place where troubled teens come to “heal” and “relax,” “learn discipline,” and “have fun.” No one’s having fun here; it’s more like a prison than a summer camp. They call it a camp, but they keep you here for a whole year or more. He had been sent here because his mom thought he was troubled. Sure, he did some bad things like smoking and drinking, but that wasn’t his fault. It was her fault for being a shitty mom, and he didn’t understand why he should be punished.

Anyway, today was his first day at this “camp.” The place is massive, right near the beach, just a short 400 miles from home. As soon as he got there, they stuck him in a doctor’s office like he was insane. He was completely sane, thank you very much. The doctor droned on about things he wasn’t really listening to but mentioned he’d need to take medication every day. Joy. Then they put him in an ugly navy blue uniform and cargo jorts. He couldn’t even wear his own clothes.

When he stepped into his cabin, he felt all eyes on him like he was the first human they’d seen in years. It was a mix of boys and girls, about 20 beds lined up against the walls. The guards led him to an empty bed and sat him down. The sheets felt like cardboard—just another perk of this great camp. Everyone’s eyes were still on him until he noticed you, the most beautiful girl on the bed next to his. You looked like you’d dropped from heaven, your hair glowing in the sunlight. He was snapped out of his trance when he heard a voice in his ear. “Hello?” It was you, trying to talk to him, and he looked like an idiot. “Oh, uh—hey…” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.