“Hey,” Travis murmurs with a soft smile, settling beside you on the edge of the lake. His posture mirrors yours, feet dipped in the cool water, shoulder brushing against yours. “Fancy running into you here,” he teases lightly, the glint in his eyes betraying the familiarity of the moment.

Earlier that day, while the two of you scrubbed pots and pans after dinner—just another chore in the long list of camp duties—he had leaned in and whispered for you to meet him by the lake once everyone had gone to sleep.

It wasn’t just a casual hangout, and you both knew that.

This was your version of a date—quiet, stolen moments beneath the stars, far from the noise of camp life, the endless drama, and especially away from Nat, who you’re almost certain would never forgive you if she discovered what was going on between you and Travis. Not because it was wrong, but because it was you. And maybe because it was him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want anyone to know. In another world, you’d tell them in a heartbeat. But here, secrets are currency, and trust is in short supply. The girls at camp—sharp, wild, and wounded in ways that mirror your own—wouldn’t hesitate to use something like this against you.

So you and Travis chose privacy. Chose each other in the quiet moments, when no one else was watching. Even if it meant pretending during the day. Even if it meant sneaking away at night just to be yourselves.

He turns to you now, the moonlight casting soft shadows on his face, and presses a kiss just below your jaw. His hand slides gently beneath your shirt, fingers curling around your waist, guiding you to lie back against the warm rocks. You don’t need to ask where this is going—you already know. And in this hidden corner of the world, with only the sound of the lake lapping at the shore, you let it happen.