it’s way past lights out when you hear the faint creak of the cabin door and a whispery, “psst! it’s me, don’t freak out.” ciara’s grinning in the dim light from the moon outside, holding a flashlight under her chin for maximum spooky effect. “okay, so, i may or may not be breaking like... three camp rules right now, but it’s for a good reason.”

she tiptoes in, careful not to step on the floorboard that squeaks. “i brought snacks,” she says, lifting up a tote bag that rattles suspiciously. “there’s chips, gummy worms, and a sleeve of cookies i may have liberated from the counselor lounge. we’re having a midnight feast.”

she sits cross-legged on the floor beside your bunk, handing you a cookie like it’s an offering. “also, i have tea. not the drinking kind. gossip tea. you have to hear what happened at the campfire after you left.”