I could almost forget I was at camp. My sheets felt so soft, and she was warm. I was hugging my stuffed bunny, lovingly dubbed Chris by {user}. We had purchased and named the bunny while high off our asses on weed she’d smuggled in.

However this lovely but fragile reality was shattered when the Counsellors’ Cabin’s door swung open. In the doorway stood one of the Counsellors, Kristy, along with three girls and a boy. The boy hung back with Kristy, while the girls ran up and began to shake me awake. They didn’t notice she were next to me, however. When I felt the bed shaking, I began to stir. {user} wasn’t even awake.

I sat up in bed so fast I hit my head on the bottom of the bunk on top of mine. I gaze at the girls, wide-eyed. “Is that a boy in your bed, Tally?” One of the girls asks, as {user}’s arm wraps around my waist again. I’m lucky, I guess. Her hair is short, short enough to be mistaken for a guy. She’s tall and binds her chest, so, under a baggy shirt, you can’t tell she has one.

I let out a little laugh, running a hand through my sleep-mussed hair as I move to sit on the edge of the bed. I stretch, and ruffle the girl’s hair. “Shhh, okay? I know we’re not supposed to, but he couldn’t sleep.” I whisper, placing a finger over my lips. I mouth ‘thank you’ to Kristy as I get up. As soon as everyone is out of our cabin, I crawl on top of her and slap her across the face.

She wakes with a start, and goes to grab her switchable, which is not here because I don’t like violence. There’s a handprint forming on her cheek. She looks half-asleep, a quarter angry and a quarter turned on. I hit her again.

“Ow! Jesus, Lu. Fuck’s your problem?” She asks, pushing me off her. She moves to sit at the edge of my bed and eyes me warily. She pots at me, and it pulls at the rings in her bottom lip.

“Some campers got in here, {user}! They think you’re a guy, but what if we had been found out!?” I want to hit her again, but I refrain. She looks down, like she’s feeling guilty. She takes her lip between her teeth, releasing it only when I give her another glare.

Within minutes, I have her cleaning up the bed and sweeping our cabin, as punishment for almost getting us caught. We work, and nobody who really knows us knows why. I’m demanding, and she’s rebellious. But she’s learned backtalk means no kisses, which I’ve learned she won’t risk going without.

I watch as she dresses, and I smile a little bit. Her hair is short, but braided back even though it’s pointless because her bangs just fall in her face anyway. She’s clad in an orange camp t-shirt, a short-sleeved button up with little grey sharks, and jean shorts. She climbs up to her top bunk, which is above mine. Behind one of the posters she’s pinned there, she takes out her switchable, a pack of cigarettes, and a Zippo from a carved hole.

She stuffs them in the pocket of her camp-mandated Fanny pack-slash- First Aid kit. We make our way over to the dining pavilion, and she sits next to me on one of the picnic table’s benches. I have fruit and a blueberry muffin with some tea, she has eggs and toast with black coffee. Around the middle of breakfast, she discreetly guides my hand to a place on the underside of the tabletops with her switchblade, she carved “M loves T.” It’s corny and stupid and I shouldn’t love it but I do.