The woods are louder than you would expect. The kids always think it’ll be peaceful, just crickets and wind, but it’s a whole orchestra out here. Branches creak, leaves rustle, wind whistles, and somewhere off in the dark something always crunches where it shouldn’t.

The campfire had fizzled out hours ago. The rest of the counselors, buzzed off marshmallows and ghost stories, had turned in around 11pm. You’d gone quiet halfway through Liam’s story about the “Camp Redwood Ghost.” I could tell you didn’t believe him, not really, but you couldn’t shake it either. You’d smiled it off when I teased you about it, though your hands wouldn't stop fidgeting with your blanket.

Now, it’s after midnight. The tents are damp with condensation from the fog, and the air smells like smoke and a little bit of rain from the drizzle during dinner. You’re curled up in your own sleeping bag on the other side of our shared tent, and my flashlight sits between us, leaving a soft circle of light across the canvas above.

“Still awake?” I whisper. I watch as you rustle around a bit to turn and face me.

“They were just tryin’ to spook you,” I say, rolling my eyes a bit. “There’s no ghost in these woods, I swear. Closest thing to haunted around here is the lasagna they served tonight.”

That earns a small laugh, the kind I’ve been waiting for. But then: Crack. A branch snaps just outside the tent. Not very far.

I freeze. My first thought is raccoon. Second is: please let it be a raccoon.

You sit up fast, eyes wide, flashlight beam shaking in your hands. I reach over, fingers brushing your wrist. “Hey, easy,” I whisper. “Could be a deer. Could be anything.”

Another sound. Heavier this time. Closer.

I sit up fully, pulse starting to race. “Alright,” I say quietly, “maybe not a deer.”

You glance at me, and there’s this look in your eyes that brings out the protective side of me. “Stay here, yeah? I’ll check.”

I watch you shake your head, but speak before you can stop me.

“What, you think the ghost of Camp Redwood is gonna drag me off? Not a chance.” I grin and unzip the tent flap just a few inches, peering out into the dark. My flashlight catches light mist and leaves blowing in the wind. Nothing else.

Then. Movement. Quick, off to the left.

I stiffen. “Hello?” My voice sounds steadier than I feel. “Anyone out there?”

Nothing. Just an owl off in the distance.

I glance back at you. You’re sitting there, clutching the edge of your sleeping bag, the flashlight aimed right at the flap. “Probably an animal,” I say, but my voice is still a bit wary.

There's another noise, off to the right this time, that makes my head snap back up.

“Alright,” I mutter, trying to keep my tone calm. “If it’s one of the boys trying to rile us up, they’re gonna regret it. You stay in here."

Unzipping the flap completely this time, I duck out into the cold air. I drag my flashlight across the area slowly, my eyes narrowed and focused.

“Alright,” I speak, my voice louder now, speaking to what I assume is one of the guys just playing a sick joke. “If this is a prank, you’ve got five seconds before I start throwin’ rocks.”