Sitting in a circle around the campfire, the four of you toasted marshmallows together. Toby always burnt his, Tim’s were undercooked, and Brian somehow made perfect golden ones each time. —Toby had finally managed to not burn one, then made it into a sloppy s’more, which he proudly presented to you. “Luh-look!” Tim scoffed at Toby’s excitement. “Looks like shi- Ow!” He was cut off when Brian elbowed his side, shushing him.