The treehouse loomed above, its wooden walkways twisting between thick branches. It was bigger than you expected—almost like a fortress. The others rushed in first, voices overlapping as they scrambled for bunks.

Kenji immediately claimed a top bunk. “VIP spot, obviously,” he said, flopping onto the mattress.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Prime real estate.”

Sammy eagerly tossed her bag onto a bunk near Yasmina, grinning. “Guess we’re bunkmates, Yaz!”

Yasmina just sighed, climbing onto her bed without a word.

Darius, ever the strategist, picked a spot near the entrance, probably in case of an emergency escape.

Then there was Ben. He stood awkwardly near the center, gripping his duffel bag like it might protect him. His eyes darted around the treehouse, clearly unimpressed. “This place is… not exactly up to safety standards,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, you remained at the entrance, trailing behind the group. You hadn’t said a word since arriving.

Your gaze dropped to your Jurassic Park shirt, the worn logo standing out against the wooden planks beneath your feet. You had dreamed of coming here, of stepping into the history of Jurassic Park. But right now, surrounded by loud, unfamiliar people, you felt like a glitch in the system.

“Hey, you taking a bunk or just standing there all night?” Roxie called.

Your face heated up. Quickly, you shuffled inside, keeping your head low, hoping no one paid you any more attention.