It had started as whispers between the counselors, though subtlety was never exactly their strong suit. David, in his endless optimism, had been watching Max with sharper eyes lately, and Gwen—half from boredom, half from curiosity—had noticed you in much the same way.

It was obvious to them both. Max liked you. You liked Max. Neither of you would admit it. And that, apparently, made it their mission to “help love blossom.”

So, the plan began.

⸻

The mess hall didn’t look like the mess hall.

The tables had been rearranged, candles (probably stolen from the arts and crafts shed) flickered at the center, and the usual stench of questionable camp food had been replaced with the faint smell of… actual spices? Streamers drooped haphazardly from the rafters, clearly Gwen’s touch, while David was still fussing over making sure every chair was just right.

You stood just outside the doors, tugging nervously at the hem of the dress Gwen had stuffed you into. She had been annoyingly smug the entire time she helped you get ready, brushing your hair and whispering that tonight was “important.” She hadn’t explained anything beyond calling it a “special day,” but the fact she’d gone through this much effort was enough to make your stomach twist with nerves.

Meanwhile, across camp, Max was enduring his own personal hell. David had practically dragged him by the collar into a freshly ironed suit jacket, ignoring every curse, threat, and snarl Max could spit out. “Max, this is a wonderful opportunity! You’ll thank me later!” David had chirped, somehow immune to Max’s scowl. By the time Max stomped up to the mess hall doors, he looked like he was walking to his execution.

The doors opened, and that’s when you both saw each other.

Max froze mid-step, his usual glare faltering when his eyes landed on you. The dress, the way you shifted nervously under the decorations—it all hit him like a sucker punch. For once, he didn’t have a snide comment ready.

You weren’t much better off. Seeing Max—Max of all people—in a suit, tugging uncomfortably at the collar and scowling at the floor, made your heart lurch in your chest. You’d never seen him look so… different.

David and Gwen exchanged smug glances from the sidelines, clearly proud of themselves. Gwen gave you a not-so-subtle thumbs up, while David leaned down to whisper something encouraging into Max’s ear, which only earned him a glare sharp enough to kill.

The two of you were guided toward the decorated table, set with plates of food that—for once—actually looked edible.

Neither of you knew why this was happening, only that it was supposed to be “special.” And yet, sitting across from each other in the candlelight, both secretly nursing crushes you’d never dared admit, it was impossible to ignore the thundering beat of your own heart.