Cricket sat in her camp bed, bent over her notebook enjoying the peace and quiet while all the other CITs were still asleep. A moment later, she heard Artemis mumble a sleepy “good morning”. Her peace was short-lived, but she wasn’t bothered. Her notes on Artemis were more positive than almost any of the other CITs. “Do you think I have to get dressed today?” Artemis asked. “Considering we’re gonna pack up and go home, I feel like I can stay in my pajamas.”

Cricket shrugged. “I think it’ll be fine.” Looking at Artemis, she noticed her pajama shirt and shorts had constellations on them in the shape of dinosaurs. “Those are-cool pajamas.” 

“Thanks!”

Cricket nodded and returned to her journal, scribbling down, Complimented Artemis’s pajamas. Successful social interaction. 

She was about to write more when she heard more rustling across from her. Flapjack waking up. “G’morning,” they mumbled, their voice scratchy.

A moment later, a knock sounded on the tent flap. Artemis got up and opened it, letting Socks in. “Good morning! You all have about fifteen minutes to get dressed. I’ll see you on the bridge!” 

After Socks left, Avocado, surprisingly, got up, looking quite sleepy. “Is anyone gonna get dressed? I don’t wanna.” 

“You wear the same thing either way. It’s not gonna be much of a change,” Flapjack pointed out. 

“Fair enough.” For once, Avocado didn’t argue. 

After getting dressed herself, Cricket put her journal in her bag and headed out to the bridge with Artemis. As usual, Tent One was already there, being far more efficient and organized than Tent Two. 

At breakfast, Flapjack immediately started shoving pancakes in their face like they hadn’t seen food in a month. Artemis laughed at them. “Flapjack, that’s, like, cannibalism. ‘Cause pancakes are also called flapjacks.” 

Flapjack choked, syrup dripping off their chin. They looked at their pancakes in horror and yelled, at an unnecessary volume, “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?”

Artemis burst out laughing. Sharky leaned over from the table they were sitting at and added, “I should get y’all avocados as a snack. Then you and Avocado can be cannibalism buddies!”

Koala looked at them, concerned. “Sharky, that’s not camp appropriate.”

Making a hand-waving motion, Sharky responded, “Aw, it’s fine..”

“Leadership wouldn’t be happy to hear it…”

“Ya see any leadership? You worry too much.” Sharky gave their trademark grin. 

Koala sighed, her shoulders slumping.

After breakfast, the CITs returned to Pines, sitting in a circle in the unit house. Rex sat in the center. “Alright, CITs. First, I’m very proud of you all. This week has been great. Second, next week, we’ll have more lessons, and you’ll have your first shadowing sessions! And Tuesday morning, we’ll watch the sunrise on a nearby mountain. It’ll be cold, so pack something warm to wear! Y’all can go pack up. You can leave your sleeping bags and sheets on your beds if you want. We’re not in a rush, so you can take your time, but we’ll need you out here in about an hour and a half.”

In Tent Two, Cricket sat on her bed and pulled out her journal. She didn’t have much packing to do-keeping her stuffed organized worked out for her, because now she had time to journal. She didn’t envy Flapjack or Avocado-both of their duffle bags had spilled all over their sections of the tent, looking like an absolute nightmare to clean up.

Cricket chewed her pen, thinking of what she’d wanted to note down from the morning. Remembering Sharky and Koala’s argument, she wrote, Sharky doesn’t care about how their actions affect their fellow counselors, and should probably be fired. But when leadership was here, they were completely fine with Sharky, and Sharky never seems worried. Rex does, though. It’s like she’s walking on eggshells whenever leadership is around. Weird. It’s not like there’s a reason to fire her. Sharky, on the other hand, is a menace to society. 

She was vaguely aware of Flapjack glancing at her, probably debating whether they should ask what she was writing about. They’d already asked her once, and she’d blown them off. Now, part of her was considering talking to them. Maybe it was hypocritical of her, considering her opinion of them was basically loud, immature, annoying. She wrote, Considering attempting interaction with Flapjack?

Cricket looked up from her journal and fixed her eyes on them. “You’re staring.”

They froze. “Uh. No, I’m not.”

“Do you think I don’t notice when I’m being stared at like a zoo animal? I’m not stupid.” Cricket noticed Artemis stop putting her books into her suitcase and tense up, watching Flapjack and Cricket carefully.

Flapjack looked away, chewing their fingernails. Cricket kept her gaze. When they noticed Artemis was watching them, they mumbled, “Sorry. I’m not trying to stare. I got distracted.”

Cricket sighed. “Don’t worry about it. You’re wondering what I’m writing about.”

“...yeah?” Flapjack said.

Looking back down at her journal, Cricket said, “Writing about our counselors. They’re weird.”

Artemis, who’d returned to putting away her books, asked, “How so?”

“Sharky and Rex are weird. The others are fine. I do have thoughts on the others too, if you’d like to hear them.” 

Flapjack propped their chin on their hand. “I’m curious. What are they?” There was a hint of nervousness in their voice-they were presumably concerned she had something bad to say about Zero. 

“Well,” Cricket flipped through her journal, skimming over her entries about the counselors. “I think Rex is hiding something from us. And I think she has a problem with leadership..”

Artemis nodded. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. I don’t want to assume anything bad about her-she’s probably just awkward around authority.”

“Yes, that’s mostly what I think. I’m not going to write her off yet. I don’t have enough information to make any conclusions.” Cricket flipped through her journal again. “Koala’s so anxious, but I like her. I like Socks, too. She doesn’t quite have it together, but I appreciate she’s willing to learn things along with us.”

Artemis exclaimed, “Yes, I love her! She’s fun to talk to, and really smart. I hope she’s still here when we’re counselors, I’d love to work with her.” 

Cricket nodded and scribbled down, Artemis attached to Socks. “Sharky…I think everyone feels the same about Sharky. Absolute menace? Extremely confusing? Despite all of that, it’s hard not to like them. I’m skeptical about them, but for all we know, there’s a reason leadership keeps them around. I don’t want to brush them off as crazy. I think they know things about this place.”

Tent Two was silent. After a moment, Flapjack spoke up, seeming more anxious. “And-Zero?”

“They fascinate me. I think they also know a lot more than they let on. But I like them. I think they’re a good person, and they deserve better.” 

Flapjack visibly relaxed. “Oh. That’s good, yeah.”

Artemis nudged them, laughing. “Did you think they were gonna turn out a bad person? It’s Zero.”

Their eyebrows scrunched up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really are paranoid,” Cricket interjected. “Does anything about Zero suggest they’re a bad person? You spend more time around them than me, you should know.”

“You never know! I don’t want to find out my favorite counselor is a bad person! Because then people will get mad at me for supporting them.” Flapjack began picking at their already rather ragged-looking nails. 

Artemis nudged them again. “I don’t think the camp would hire someone who’s a bad person, and besides, we’re not gonna get mad at you if they did turn out to be bad.”

Flapjack seemed entirely unconvinced. 

Cricket, feeling rather uncomfortable, tried to be comforting. “And if they do anything bad, I’ll tell you, so you can deal with it yourself. Yeah.”

Flapjack looked away. Cricket shrugged and lay back down on her bed, taking out her pen again. Flapjack is concerned over whether or not Zero is a good person. Probably worth talking to them about.

She was interrupted from writing any further at Artemis saying, a bit too loud, “Avocado? You’re still asleep?” Oh, yeah, Avocado was there, Cricket hadn’t noticed her at all.

Flapjack looked up. “Can I whack her?”

Artemis responded, “Y’know what, go for it.”

Flapjack grabbed their pillow, walked over to Avocado’s bed, and repeatedly whacked her with it. Avocado jerked away, grabbed the pillow, and threw it back at Flapjack. After stepping out of Avocado’s pillow-chucking range, Flapjack crossed their arms.. “Why are you asleep? Get your stuff together.”

Avocado rolled over, mashing her face into her pillow.

“C’mon, Avocado, I’ll help you clean up.” Artemis said, still sounding like she was barely holding back laughter. 

Cricket looked up. “Don’t help her. She’ll learn that this works.” 

“If I don’t, we’ll be late. And you’re talking about her like she’s a child.” Artemis’s voice was almost patronizing. 

“She’s acting like a child! And you’re doing it too! It’s like you don’t think she can do it herself!” Cricket huffed. 

“Guys, I’m right here,” Avocado lifted her head, sounding a bit dejected. 

“Why are you two arguing over this? This is stupid.” Flapjack lay back on their bed, most of their stuff shoved into their duffle bag. 

“I’m just trying to help my tentmate!!” Artemis exclaimed. 

“SHUT UP!” Flapjack shouted, so loud Cricket was sure the counselors could hear. “Why do you even CARE about this?” 

“It’s fine! I can handle it myself! Stop yelling before a counselor comes in here!” Avocado exclaimed, her voice shaky.

There was a knock on the tent flap. Everyone in the tent froze. 

Koala’s voice called, “Hello? Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Artemis said, sitting down on her bed. 

Coming into the tent, Koala looked around at the four of them. Flapjack was still standing. Artemis sat on her bed, looking ashamed. Avocado just looked scared. Koala said, her voice full of concern, “What’s going on here?”

Flapjack spoke first. “Avocado was taking a nap instead of putting her stuff away, and we woke her up, and Artemis tried to help her, but Cricket says if she helps her, she’ll, like, encourage her to be lazy, and I said this is a stupid argument ‘cause it is.” They kept on picking at their nails as they talked, and Cricket saw blood starting to form on their fingertips.

Koala nodded. “Okay. Avocado, why were you taking a nap?” Her voice held no judgment whatsoever.

“Uh, I just wanted a nap. I guess.” Avocado sounded sheepish.

Koala nodded again. “Artemis, it’s kind of you to help your tentmate.” Artemis looked down self-consciously. 

“Cricket. While I understand your point, helping your tentmate is also important. It’s not your responsibility to control other people’s choices.” Cricket felt like bugs were crawling under her skin. She drew back, an odd, uncomfortable feeling building in her stomach. Her fingers itched to grab for her journal and scribble down her thoughts, about how much she hated being told she couldn’t control things, about being told she was wrong. She stared at Koala, unblinking, her fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her hands.

Her expression becoming even more concerned, Koala asked, “Cricket? Are you ok?”

Cricket nodded stiffly and, not breaking eye contact, grabbed her pen and journal. Only then did she look away, beginning to write even more frantically than usual. Koala far less of a safe person than before. Quite disappointing.

“Alright. I trust you all to sort this out yourself, unless you want me to help, in which case I’m happy to do so! Let me know if any of you need anything, I’m always here for you!” Koala smiled, far too warmly. It was sickeningly sweet. 

Artemis responded, “I think we’ve got this! Thanks, though!” Koala left, and as Artemis got back up and started helping Avocado clean up, Cricket lay back on her bed. Koala’s words frankly confused her. Avocado didn’t even seem like she wanted to be here. Koala was encouraging her to keep being immature. Simultaneously, she was quite disappointed in herself for expecting better of Koala. She should be smarter than this. 

Surprisingly, Artemis and Avocado managed to clean up quite quickly, and within five or so minutes, they were done. Cricket sighed and got up, realizing this meant it was time to leave. She followed the other CITs onto the bridge. Thankfully, nobody was particularly talkative, probably because they had heavy stuff to carry. After dumping all their suitcases on a tarp in the parking lot, the CITs and their counselors headed to the dining hall. Unfortunately, the quiet from the walk there had been short-lived-as soon as everyone put their stuff down, they got talkative again. Cricket put her head down on the dining hall table-which was unpleasantly sticky-and zoned out for however long it took for the CITs to be called to get on the bus. 

Maybe half an hour or so passed before finally, Rex called out “CITs, time to go!” Cricket followed everyone else outside and got on the bus, sat in the back, and pulled out her journal. She was vaguely aware Muffin had sat next to her-probably trying to avoid the noise as well-but she didn’t mind.

As the bus began moving, Cricket started writing, letting herself be fully immersed in her thoughts for the first time all week.

First week done. Closing thoughts? There is definitely something going on with these counselors. They’re hiding something from us. My best guess is Sharky is at least partially behind it, Zero knows and is scared, and Rex...probably knows, but doesn’t want us to find out? Rex doesn’t trust leadership. I don’t think Koala has anything to do with it, but I’m frustrated with her. Socks is completely innocent. 

As for the other CITs? Flapjack is odd. Avocado is obnoxious. Artemis is the closest I have to a friend here. Lilypad needs to get it together. Sprite has this weird rivalry with Flapjack, which is funny. Dot is annoying. Muffin is currently asleep next to me. I don't think any of the CITs know anything more about what’s going on. 

Cricket shut her journal and rested her head against the window, watching as the bus left the forest and returned to proper civilization. At some point, she fell asleep, and slept for the rest of the bus ride. She was woken up by some counselor, telling her it was time to get off and go home. Blearily, she stumbled off the bus without saying goodbye to any of the other CITs, grabbed her suitcase, found her grandparents, and walked to the car with them, not saying a word. Getting home, she gave her cat, Marmalade, a scritch behind the ears-she’d missed having him sit next to her and purr while she journalled. 

Stumbling upstairs and flopping onto her bed, Cricket closed her eyes. Despite not doing much all day, she was exhausted. She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, Marmalade laying down next to her and beginning to purr. Not even bothering to change into pajamas or get under a blanket, Cricket fell asleep once more.