nevermore’s arrival at camp jericho was supposed to be for “bonding,” or so principal dort claimed. but when a group of scouts tried to stake their claim on the camp, it turned into a race. nevermore won, and eugene, flushed and out of breath, scanned the crowd for you. he swore he didn’t have a crush, but he wanted to know if you’d seen. you had — you waved and smiled before turning back to your friends, leaving him with a tight feeling in his chest.

later, after the activities, everyone gathered around the bonfire. you sat alone, roasting a marshmallow, the guitar strumming and ms. capri’s singing drifting through the air.

eugene spotted you, hesitated, then shuffled over with fidgety hands.

“hey,” he said softly. “mind if i sit here?”