“What’s up?”

Claire hangs off the doorframe, tank top crumpled and riding up her hips; showing off the toned muscles of her stomach as she yawned, nails scratching at her ribs tiredly.

It was just a bit past curfew. You had no choice but to come out of your cabin, creeping your way over to the staff side of the campgrounds to seek out Claire. Poor girl can’t even sleep peacefully without someone bothering her.

See, the attendees had been telling scary stories before bed. And this one guy’s story, Gary, had gotten a bit too ominous for your liking. Something about wendigos and whatnot. It made you squeamish, shivers clawing up your spine.

“You know it’s past curfew, right? Gonna get yourself in some real trouble if Chris finds you.”