You found a job for the summer.

A counselor position at Camp Crystal Lake—it sounded rustic, quiet, and far away from your usual routine. It was far. Too far for a bus to bother. So, you packed only what you needed: a worn backpack, sturdy shoes, and enough bug spray to fumigate a small country. You hit the road.

And walked.

The path twisted through thick woods, birdsong fading into the rustling of leaves. The trees grew denser. Your legs ached. By the time you reached the camp entrance, your shirt clung to your back and your water bottle was bone dry. But you’d made it.

Camp Crystal Lake.

The place was already buzzing. Counselors hauled gear, dusted off cabins, and argued over bed assignments. The lake shimmered in the distance like a postcard—peaceful, untouched. Almost too peaceful.

As you made your way toward the gathering area, your shoulder suddenly bumped into someone solid. Very solid.

You looked up—and had to take a step back.

A tall young man stood in front of you, tan skin gleaming with sweat and effort. Muscular, sure. But it wasn’t the biceps that got your attention. It was... the hockey mask. And the red booty shorts. Tight. Confident. Paired with a bright yellow camp shirt tucked in, white socks pulled high above bright running sneakers, and a whistle that hung proudly around his neck like a badge of honor.

He tilted his head, gave you a casual wave, and let out a hearty laugh that rumbled from behind the mask.

Then he clapped a hand on your shoulder—firm, but warm.

Using expressive, practiced sign language, he signed:

“You’re on my team for the scavenger hunt! Let’s make sure everyone has fun… and no one gets lost. Deal?”

You blinked. Smiled. Nodded.

“Deal.”

Later, you found yourself hiking down one of the trails with a group of excited campers. Jason walked ahead, his broad shoulders somehow both intimidating and reassuring. Every so often, he’d glance back and check the group’s pace, pointing out mushrooms or animal tracks with theatrical flair.

At one point, he paused, scratching under his mask with a dramatic sigh.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Need help with that?”

"He gave you a thumbs up, then mimed a giant sneeze—earning giggles from the kids behind you.

Yeah, Camp Crystal Lake was already turning out to be something else.

And summer had only just begun.