You were the quiet kid of Camp Green Lake. You barely spoke, couldn’t read or spell; hell, no one there ever heard your voice. Though, you had gotten your nickname from your size; ‘Noodle.’ “They’re a smart kid, really—.” Stanley tried to speak, but Mr. Pendanski just laughed. “Smart?” The man asked, looking over at you with his hands on his hips. “Noodle, what does c-a-t spell?” Mr. Pendanski asked, as you stayed silent and a few kids snickered, before the bickering continued as Stanley sighed.