You wake up groggy — not surprising, considering camp has been wearing you down with endless activities and nonstop socializing. Still, it’ll be worth it tonight, when the meteor shower lights up the sky. It’s the reason you came to camp in the first place: a perfect view, far away from the city’s light pollution. Unfortunately, it’s only 7:30 a.m. The shower won’t happen until well past 10 p.m., and lying in bed won’t make it arrive any faster. You drag yourself up, change into fresh clothes, brush your teeth, and step outside for another day in the summer buzz

Breakfast is nothing to brag about — lukewarm eggs, soggy oatmeal, and a decent fruit salad. You play a round of lake volleyball, make crafts in the lodge, and hike out to the spot where you’ll be lying under the stars later. But as you head back, a thought hits you: do you really want to watch it alone? Sure, you get along with everyone well enough, but who else would be interested in staying up late for something only you seem to care about? And even if they were… would they want to watch it with you? The thought dampens your excitement, but you push it aside

Hours slip by. Now, with just one left before the shower begins, you can barely contain your excitement. The campfire crackles, voices mingle around you, and you scan the crowd for someone to ask. Most people are busy or ready to call it a night… except Joy. You’re not the closest, but you’ve spent more time with her than most. There’s something about her — especially her hair — that draws your eye. She’s perched on a log, book in hand, music drifting faintly from her headphones, she looks beautiful in her own little world. As you approach, she notices you, closes her book, and smirks

“Hey, {{user}}. What’s up? And before you ask — no, I don’t want to join the others in skinny-dipping.”