There were already cute girls here...Roe couldn’t decide if it was good for the distraction, or if it was just going to make it even harder to blend in. They were already in the cabin that painted them as the most rainbow-esque camper present, there was no denying that. But Roe had been hoping to avoid at least some of the attention, especially once they and the other campers could start choosing where and who they sat with.
But then that damn cute girl with her damn cute curly blonde hair and her damn cheeks already partially sunburnt...dammit.
Roe’s attention was brought briefly back to Earth as they bumped into someone in front of them. Vera.
Vera pursed her lips again.
“S-sorry,” Roe stammered, rubbing the fuzz on top of their head, a nervous tick they’d developed after the shaving-it-off crisis they’d had.
Vera sighed. “It’s whatever. And about earlier-“ Vera was cut off by loud trampling and sticks breaking behind Roe.
Roe heard footsteps get louder behind them as blonde girl, somehow even more flushed, with even more flyaways, stumbled over to her group. Roe’s eyes followed her as she joined a cluster of extremely heterosexual looking girls. Roe flinched as they noticed the other girls begin whispering and glancing slyly over, obviously making fun.
Blonde girl sighed and pressed her hands to her cheeks, obviously extremely self aware. She yanked out her braids and raked her fingers through her hair, to no avail, before beginning to shove them back into two braids.
Slowly, more cabins gathered in small, linear clusters around a white gazebo in the middle of the grass-covered lot next to the mess hall.
“Alright, campers!” Voice booming through a megaphone, a tall and extremely buff counselor waved her hand in the air to get the attention of everyone who was quieting down. “Welcome to your first meal at Camp Sana! Some meal etiquette for you…”
Roe stopped listening. They knew how to eat dinner. Roe could respect that some people maybe lost a sense of social skills or understanding if they isolated from whatever their “grief” incident may be, but everyone here was only as young as 14. Shouldn’t that age come with the baseline expectation that one knew at least how to wait in line?
Whatever. Roe looked up at the sky, still bright, which made them smile a bit. No matter how late into the summer they got, somehow time always seemed to stand still right around dinner time. Something about the sky being blue, the clouds flowing, the sun shining, never really got old to Roe. They tucked their hands into their pocket and glanced over their shoulder.
Blonde girl was staring at Roe.
Roe blinked and looked away fast.
Then looked back.
Blonde girl was still staring.
And then she...she waved
Blonde girl waved.
Who in their right mind...it was Sad Teen Camp! The first day! All social etiquette spoke to not waving. But here she was, blonde curls already escaping their braided confines, waving and grinning like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And Roe...Roe was blushing.
Shit.
Roe couldn’t blush, no. Roe Peterson did not blush, and Roe Peterson most definitely did not get flustered.
Without waving, Roe looked down at their feet, hard, half hoping that blonde girl would turn away soon. Half hoping she wouldn’t stop looking.
Roe’s eyes caught on something inching across their shoe, and they had to stifle a gasp. A convenient and exciting distraction sat on their dusty worn-in Doc Marten: a Gypsy moth caterpillar!
Roe bent to pick it up gingerly in their hand. They were invasive species, especially in Michigan, and this Roe knew. But it was just a cute little guy, a friend who would soon turn into a sweet, fuzzy moth who would fly and find light anywhere it could.
Roe loved moths.
Roe wasn’t too sure this fascination would extend to their cabin mates. They quickly looked around for a tree or small, covered foliage to keep the caterpillar safe, but it was a tad too late for that.
The counselors had apparently released the campers. Roe assumed they’d been assigned some table, but definitely had not listened. Vera, Eva, and Michael had stuck around, but Roe, wary of the less than stellar introductions, wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Is that a caterpillar?” Michael quirked an eyebrow.
“Uh..” Roe started.
“Please don’t tell me that’s a worm,” Eva grimaced. “I cannot stand worms.”
“It’s some sort of larvae shit, I learned about it in my bio class last year,” Vera cut in. “Is it, Roe?”
“It’s a gypsy moth caterpillar,” Roe muttered. “They’re harmless.”
“Cool, I guess,” Vera was obviously trying to bond with Roe, but it was evident the trio talking to Roe was not too into the whole caterpillar thing.
“Moths are kinda sick,” Michael shrugged.
“After they stop looking like some creepy crawlie,” Eva shivered.
“But agreed,” Vera smiled. “Moths are kinda sick.”
Though she didn’t say anything, Roe could tell that Vera was offering some kind of truce.
Roe didn’t know many people who liked moths...or at least pretended to like moths to make Roe feel better.
Roe took a deep breath.
“Yeah,” they nodded, letting out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.
After a brief moment of awkward silence, Eva gave the group a look. “Um, hello? Are we going to get our disgusting camp dinner or what?”
“Food’s food,” Vera smirked. She bumped into Eva’s shoulder. “It can’t be that bad.”
“My aunt has sent me to so many Sad Teen Camps, you don’t even know,” Eva shuddered. “Never eat the Chinese food, okay?”
“But I love lo mein-“
“NEVER EAT THE CHINESE FOOD, MICHAEL,” Eva hollered in Michael’s face.
Roe laughed out loud as Michael held up his hands in mock defeat.
“Sooo,” he glanced at Roe, itching to change the subject as Roe caught the door and held it open as the other three shuffled in. “I saw you making googly eyes at some girl from Cabin Eight.”
“ROE!” Eva yelled. “THAT’S GAY!”
“I’m aware,” Roe nervously rubbed their head.
“You don’t have to keep yelling, Eva,” Vera laughed, and Eva rolled her eyes.
“It’s how I show my enthusiasm,” Eva twirled a finger around her hair. “Get used to it.”
“Hello, we’re all being distracted from the beginning of our dear Roe’s summer fling,” Michael chirped, grabbing Roe’s shoulder from behind.
“I was kind of hoping you’d forget that,” Roe laughed half heartedly. “Really, though, I just thought she was cute. She is kind of a mess.”
“Who, that blonde girl who looks like she stuck a finger in a socket?” Eva asked as the group grabbed blue plastic trays from a tall rack.
“It’s not that bad,” Roe reasoned. They felt a little uncomfortable talking about this girl behind her back, without even knowing her name.
“It could be a lot better if I got her some leave-in conditioner and a diffuser,” Michael hummed to himself. “Maybe if I call my stepdad he can mail them to me. Vera, does the postal service deliver diffusers?”
“Do I look like I know?” Vera rolled her eyes. The group laughed collectively, but was just as quickly cut off in conjunction with one another as mashed potatoes were slopped onto their plates. The consistency, which resembled that of mealy apples, was topped in a splatter with a piece of chicken so pale it would’ve blended in perfectly had one held it up next to the moon.
“See? I told you,” Eva whispered to Roe. Roe had to stifle a laugh as the somewhat bitter looking cafeteria employee motioned for the campers to keep moving.
As the four grabbed silverware and wandered toward the middle of the mess hall, Roe found themself relaxing...just a little. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad?
Just as they sat down at the edge of the bench at the table for Cabin Ten, Roe sighed. “I grabbed two knives.”
“Love that for you,” Michael laughed.
Roe rolled their eyes and begrudgingly pushed themself up from the table.
As they so often did, Roe looked at their feet in contemplation as they walked. Perhaps an instinct from avoiding the stares of the judgemental at school back home, or perhaps it was the easiest way to think. Within the span of 6 hours, Roe had alienated themself from a cabin, befriended that cabin, been served the worst meal of their life and…had somewhat of a meet-cute? If one could even call it that.
It was probably all in Roe’s head anyway. Ridiculous, all of it. All it took was one cute girl on the first day of camp, and Roe was a puddle? No, not this summer. Roe would focus on...not girls. Roe would focus on-
SLAM
Roe fell directly on their ass, almost distinctly Parallel to the way blonde girl had fallen earlier.
“Oh jeepers, I’m so sorry!” A panicky voice yelped. Thankfully the commotion hadn’t caused much of a scene in the bustling cafeteria. The few people who had glanced over were already paying attention to their bland meals.
Roe’s attention, however, was on the soupy mashed potatoes already beginning to drip goopily from their leather jacket.
“I’m so sorry!” The voice said again, hands reaching forward with napkins. Roe glanced up.
Blonde girl.
Shit.
Their eyes met, and Roe froze.
In the movies, the romcoms, the Nicholas Sparks novels, they always say it seems like time stops when the two love interests see each other - really see each other - for the first time. Some sort of magic when their eyes lock.
Roe always called bullshit. After January, especially, it all seemed like bullshit destined to happened to anyone but Roe.
And then came blonde girl, with her soupy mashed potatoes and frizzy blonde curls and blue eyes so bright and piercing they looked like...Roe couldn’t quite place it. No description they could think of were doing this girl’s eyes quite the right amount of justice.
Those eyes made everything slow down. It was as if someone had put a filter on the rest of the world around them, slowing them down, blurring the noise. Only Roe and blonde girl were in focus.
And as soon as it had started, it was over. Roe blinked, and blonde girl stumbled a little. Had she felt it too?
No, who was Roe kidding. Mashed potatoes were everywhere. Who gets sparks of romance from mashed potatoes?
“Sorry, sorry!”
“You already said sorry,” Roe pointed out.
“Yeah, sorry,” the girl said. “I mean...ugh, today is not my day,” she huffed.
“It’s whatever,” Roe shrugged. They needed to act as calm and collected as possible. Nothing had happened, no feelings were had.
As Roe stood up, they were suddenly reminded of the words they’d written months ago.
Roe’s therapist had given them a journal, a tiny black thing, meant to be as unintimidating as possible.
“Just write a few words once in a while,” Dr. Booker had reasoned. “Nobody has to read it but you. It might help you find some of what’s locked in your head.”
Roe had only ever written two things in that journal.
Don’t get attached
Don’t talk about January.
“I’m Violet,” the girl winced as she wiped at Roe’s jacket once more.
Roe blinked a few times. “I’m Roe,” they said, somewhat hazily.
“Sorry, again, I should’ve been looking where I was going. At least now I gotta get a new plate of food, karma, am I right?” Violet laughed awkwardly, obviously looking for a point to ease the tension.
Roe said nothing.
Violet cleared her throat. “Listen, um...I have some Wet Ones and a Stain Stick plus OxiClean back at my cabin, so if any of that doesn’t come out I can give you some. You would think my mom packed that all, but no, it’s me! Y’see, I find that having a myriad of stain remover options is key to keeping your wardrobe clean. It’s not like I’m obsessed with cleaning or anything, I just feel like different problems call for different solutions, you know? For the leather jacket, I’d probably-“
“I’m fine,” Roe cut her off. She talked a lot for such a mousy girl. “I’m fine.”
“Oh,” Violet tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Okay, well...erm…it was nice to-“
Before Violet could finish, Roe brushed past them, grabbed the fork they needed, and stared at the floor the whole way back to their table.
“Oof, what happened?” Vera hissed through her teeth as Roe sat down heatedly at the table.
“That klutzy blonde girl,” Roe rolled their eyes. “Mashed potatoes everywhere. Whatever.”
“You know, I think there’s a spigot behind the back door,” Eva commented.
“I said whatever, okay?” Roe snapped.
“Sorry,” Eva whispered.
Vera looked at Michael. “Just...let us know if we can help, Roe.” Vera said reassuringly. Roe shrugged and rolled their eyes.
“Whatever,” Roe said again. As they shoved bland chicken into their mouth, Roe didn’t make any effort to converse or even look at Michael, Eva, or Vera. Who was Roe kidding? Trying to make friends. A recipe for disaster. A sure fire repeat of January.
Don’t get attached. Don’t talk about January.
It was the only way Roe could get through this goddamn summer.
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