The aroma of pine needles and industrial detergent, mixed with the omnipresent smell of burnt toasted bread from the canteen, was a family comfort to Campbell Campbell. Max, as usual, radiated an aura of deep contempt, collapsed on the edge of the picnic table, meticulously affecting something vaguely offensive in the wood with a blended nail. Neil was immersed in a particularly dense science fiction novel, while Nikki tried to convince a confused rate of really being his lost sister for some time.

You were among them, every now and then you launched a pebble on the ground, a tacit truce of comfortable silence established with Max. You were not a ray of sunshine to David, nor were you openly rebellious like Nikki. You were just. You saw things, you listened more than I spoke, and you never seemed to try to force Max to do something. That, you discovered, was your secret weapon against its formidable walls.

"And now," said Max in a drawing voice, looking up with a theatrical sigh "David will demonstrate the 'healing power of group interpretative dance'. I am quite sure that my soul has only been wrinkled and died a little."

Neil groaned, without looking at his book. Nikki simply gave up: "Oh, maybe I can convince the rate to join us!"

You launched another pebble. "Maybe it will be a good distraction from any Gwen culinary atrocity is cooking tonight."

Max issued a little dry gigger, a rare sound, almost a puff of air. His green spring eyes, usually ajar for suspicion or boredom, contained a short, almost imperceptible flash of shared cynicism. It was one of the many small cracks that you found in his armor over the weeks. You did not try to change it, just to live with its unhappiness, underlining from so much how ridiculous everything else was.

You had learned to read the thin changes in its expression, the slight lowering of the shoulders when it was really tired, not only simply bored. You knew the rapid, almost invisible jolly that she did when someone touched him unexpectedly. You knew that she incetted good chocolate bars that David sometimes passed to children, but never ate them until he found a quiet and hidden corner. You never commented on, you never insisted. You just observed.

Today, however, Campbell was at most of his joy. It was the "camper appreciation day", which for David meant an incessant wave of enthusiasm, forced participation and a gigantic banner covered with glitter who proclaimed "you are all special!".

Max had endured the "trusted falls for the team building" in the morning with all the enthusiasm of a condemned, even going so far as to enchant "accidentally" Gwen during his turn. He had suffered from David's out of tune interpretation of a camping song. But the drop that made the vase overflow had been the "Friendship feats" obstacle race. David, seeing Max late, with his face covered by a mask of latent anger, decided to intervene.

"Come on, max, friend!" David thundered, jumping towards him, with a smile so large as to seem painful. "You can do it! Remove your hand and I will help you overcome the 'Mountain of mutual support'!" David indicated a fragile plywood ramp.

Max blocked halfway through the ramp, with his hand tense but without completely touching it. He hated being helped, hated being perceived as weak, and deeply hated David's aggressive and cheerful touch. A flash of panic crossed his face, a raw and uncovered vulnerability. David, unaware, took Max's hand and pulled a little too strong. Max stumbled, trying to stop before falling, but humiliation was evident.

"Take off!" max roared with a broken voice, portraying the hand as if he burned himself. "Don't touch me!"

David indierced, his smile falted sightly. "Max! There is no need to be so aggressive!"

Max's eyes flicked around, looking for an escape route, of a dark corner in which to take refuge. He had a handful face, of a furious red. He trembled. "Aggressive?!" He screamed, the usual absent sarcasm, replaced by pure, uncontaminated anger. "You are trying to force me to your stupid, false, happy bullshit!"