The yellow suitcase screeched on the road, bumping with every dip of the road. I heaved it up a step. The morning crowd rushed past us, all heading for the nearest metro station.

I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the abrupt emptiness at my neck. I had cut my hair short two weeks ago. Still not used to it.

“It’s fine. I got it,” I bit, noticing dad’s concern behind the car window. He stayed unmoved in the driver’s seat nevertheless, with the same passive and stern expression.

I huffed and pulled the suitcase, my bag weighed down on my shoulders. Probably shouldn’t carry that book.

“I think he’s going to camp as well,” mom pointed beside me, lacking discretion. I winced. Her voice felt amplified.

My gaze followed her finger. Turned away from us, the teenage boy carried two suitcases and a weird fisherman hat. A duffle bag swallowed the chubby figure. A fireman-red life jacket hanged from the duffle bag.

Then the boy turned. I saw his face. The black-framed glasses. The familiar sea of dark brown freckles. The army green sweater. Typical Justin.

“That’s Justin,” I told mom.

“Ohhh,” mom exclaimed. Genuine recognization. Maybe she recognized him from pictures of winter camp. Or one of the coaches told her.

A tanned and stout man approached Justin. He wore the camp uniform. The two exchanged a few words before the man left, Justin followed.

“I’m gonna go with them. They’re probably headed for the bus.”

“I’ll leave you to it, be safe and have fun,” mom grinned, giving me a quick hug.  

“Don’t worry,” I huffed, “we’ll still call.”

“And I’ll miss you,” mom pointed out. I laughed lightly and waved goodbye before sprinting to the man and Justin.

The suitcase tore my shoulders. I caught up to them.

“Is this going to the camp bus?” I asked, my breath ragged.

“Yeah, we’re headed there,” the man explained.

“Hey! Delilah!” Justin lit up, “I thought you wouldn’t come after you missed the Spring break.”

“I’m here now,” I stated. The man took us to a parking lot. He threw our luggage into the beige minivan.

I climbed into the van. My ears rang.

“Flank right! I’m being surrounded! Ben!” Someone shouted. I jerked to the sound. A teenager, about 17 years old, tapped aggressively on his phone. He made a show of throwing his phone, the screen now black-and-white.

I wobbled to a seat, away from the obnoxious teen.

“Where are you?” Ben gaped at the other. Ben’s at camp before. Doubted he would remember me though. A pale boy hovered over Ben, watching the game with interest. His eyes squinted with a passive expression. That’s Q. I recalled, winter camp as well. Didn’t remember his real name. But everyone calls him Q.

All familiar faces, except that one slightly vexing gaming teen. As the van lurched forward, the teen whined to Ben about “game cooperation”. 

“Is this everyone?” I asked the man.

“This’s everyone that will take the bus. Might be others though,” he responded, focused on the road.

I hummed and took out my headphones. Best way to avoid awkwardness. My thoughts wandered back to him.

Would Jake be at this camp?

Chances were slim. The relationship we’ve established was fleeting. Gone when the winter camp ended. Gone when I got the group-chat notification his parent picked him up the last day.

Dominic Fike’s Hey Blondie came on. I bobbed my head to the rhythm.

“Delilah,” the gaming teen pointed at me. I jerked up, staring at him with puzzlement, taking off my headphones.

“I’ll call you ‘lilah,” he announced then turned to the others, “You’re Quentin right?” The teen asked Q. So that’s his name.

Q just nodded and tugged a polite smile.  

“I’m Zeke!” the teen exclaimed. I groaned internally and returned to Fike and my phone.

I scrolled through my chat history with Jake. The last one being “Happy New Year” and couple of polite wishes. I pretended to send a wish to every contact. I only sent to those I cared about.

The earlier chats were from winter camp, we added each other on day one.

October 15^th

“You in your dorm?”

“Yeah”

“Be there in 5 ;)”

October 17^th

“Where r u??? We’re leaving for the hike in like 10 mins”

“Ben’s having a clothing crisis. I’ll explain in person”

“Ugh”

…

A bottle of gummy bears suddenly blocked my vision. Justin held them out. I took off my headphones, taking one. The honey-sweet candy stuck to my teeth. Uncomfortable.

“Wanna play riddles?” Justin proposed, “I’ll start with one.”

I nodded, Q joined as well while Ben and Zeke stayed in their video games.

“I am a young women living in an apartment complex. At night, I could hear rustling mice from the upstairs neighbor. It always calmed me. But then the neighbor got a girlfriend. I couldn’t hear the sound anymore. I started having insomnia, so I killed my neighbor. The sound didn’t come back, but I managed to sleep every night,” Justin told.

“This is creepy,” I frowned.

“How are we supposed to guess it?” Q asked, still spaced out.

“Ask me questions. I can only answer yes or no. You’ll need to unlock the whole story,” Justin explained.

“Am I mentally ill?” I tried.

“Yes,” Justin responded. Interesting.

“Are there really mice in the story?” Q asked.

“No.”

I exchanged confused glances with Q.

“Is the sound of mice something that sounds similar to mice but not actually mice?”

“Yes.”

After half an hour, we’ve managed to guess the story. The upstairs neighbor uses a peephole on the floor to spy on the girl every night. The sound of rustling was caused by him crawling on the floor. The girl knew of the spying. It calms her. Creepy. Then the neighbor got a girlfriend. He couldn’t spy on the girl anymore. The girl killed him and placed his body over the peephole, so the body of her neighbor still watches her.

I shivered. I might get nightmares because of this. The thought of someone watching is unnerving to the least. The girl wants that? Q seemed unfazed. Justin had more stories. I exited their riddle game for the sake of my sanity.

I plopped on my headphones and glanced outside the window. The van journeyed beside a lake, trees obscuring the view on both sides. My heart flipped. Almost there.

The van lurched forward, bumping on the undulating forest trial. Past another stone bridge, the van halted, a gate in front. Our driver hopped down, greeted the nearby security as he filled a form.

Green hedges were just beside the gate. I knew that beyond the hedges, the wooden cabins will be there. The camp initially had dorms at a lakeside hotel, but it was too faraway. The wooden cabins replaced the hotel a few years ago.

The van soon started again.

A boy came into view, riding a bike. I didn’t need to be closer to tell that he’s fit, his legs lean and tanned.

“Is that Theo?” Zeke plastered himself on the window.

“Theo! Theo!” Zeke chanted. Justin joined in the shouting. The boy, probably Theo, turned and gave them a middle finger before peddling away.

The van stopped near a glass house. White curtains draped over the roof and walls, covering what’s inside. The structure reminded me of a monotoned, rectangular circus tent. We call it the White Tent. I know, what an original and creative name.

We entered the tent, dropping our suitcases at the entrance. The TV on the opposite wall played in a video of Ryan sailing NACRA 500 alone. The video ended only to be replaced by the caption, “First Time Sailing Solo: Vlog”. They put the video on loop. I stifled a laugh. The other boys noticed it to. Ben howled to laughter while the others chanted and teased. I glanced around the room. Ryan wasn’t even here.

“Find your names and sign on the check-in sheet,” Natalie screamed across the room. Her skin was darker than last time, her hair longer as she tied it to a messy bun. She had changed her nails, again. From the distance, I could only make out the Hello-Kitty pink.

I studied the sheet.

Ben Jones. He already signed. Whatever.

Clara Wilder. Her signature was still absent. I known her from May last year. We were roommates but weren’t close. Elsa, our third roommate, was the girl who got along with both of us. I never bothered expanding my friends list.  

Delilah Fannel. I signed my name beside it. Looks like a kindergartner’s handwriting. I winced.

Jake Carter. I reread the name. His cursive signature beside it. What?

I jerked up, my gaze locking on the group of coaches and students.

Justin was already there, chatting with Q and Zeke. Ben typed on his phone. Natalie giggled with Theo. Then him.

The teen boy sat behind Natalie, leaning back in his chair. Jake laughed as Zeke waved and joked. His dark brown eyes tinkering. Seems like he’s hasn’t changed. I sighed. Still unbelievably pale but better than last time. When I first met him, I thought his skin tone was the result from ten layers of thick sunscreen. Nobody in this camp can endure the sun and get out unharmed. He did. Eventually, I realized the milky white was his actual skin color.

I approached the front of the room, settling near Jake, a seat away from him. He glanced up, his eyes flickering over me.

Right. My hair. He hadn’t seen it.

“Hi Dee,” Jake smiled, his grin broad enough to seem fake, yet it didn’t, “you still owe me a drink from last time.”

I snorted. Couldn’t help it. I had bet a drink to Jake that Ryan and Q would grow tired of watching SpongeBob on their dorm TV after three days. They didn’t. They kept watching until midnight for seven nights straight.

“I’ll buy one sometime tomorrow,” I shrugged, “Minute Maid?”

“You know me,” Jake chuckled.

A chair screeched. I turned away to see Zeke plopping down opposite of us.

“I still don’t have your number right?” Zeke asked, leaning forward. I shook my head. He handed me his phone.

“Not much of a talker?”

“God no,” I huffed, relaxing slightly as we exchanged numbers. I glanced at Jake, He already turned away, eyes focused on Ryan’s vlog on the screen.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you much,” he commented.  

“No. I’m like the 3.0 generation,” I supplied, “so still new.”

The camp had a generation system. Merely as an inside joke. I started sailing early, but I hadn’t tried NACRA until May last year. That makes me the unofficial 3.0. The generation is purely arbitrary, no exact rules or papers.

Zeke grinned broadly, “I’m from 1.5. The 1.0 if you’re less strict about it.”

“Really… how old are you?” I offered. I sound like someone’s mom. Ugh.

“Seventeen turning eighteen,” Zeke responded with importance, “And you wouldn’t believe the amount of homework I have. Half of my suitcase is mock exams.”

I chuckled, more genuinely this time, “Tell me about it. I have coding in the morning.”

A sharp mechanic whine came from the stage. My shoulders jumped as I jerked to the sound.

“Any video requests?” Natalie’s energetic accent boomed out from the mic, “Sailing related.” She emphasized, eliciting groans from everyone.

“Nick and Jules at the France tournament!” Zeke yelled. Others nodded and expressed their agreement with hoots and more screeching. Teen boys. Can’t believe I’ll be stuck with them for the next ten days. At least Clara’s coming.

I sighed as Natalie played the video. The typical sports commentary voice zooms in. I didn’t know Nick and Jules, must be someone who already aged out. If you stayed with the camp this long, chances are you’ll be a coach, like Natalie and Gavin. Or just visiting ever so often, like most. Halfway through the video, Ryan came in.

I didn’t saw him, but someone started shouting to let him see his vlog. I turned to the doorway to see Ryan smacking Q for snickering before sitting next to Ben with his usual strut.

After the replay of the France contest ended, Natalie strolled to the center of the stage.

“This’ll be everyone for now, Clara will be joining us shortly after. Everyone, sit in these rows,” Natalie gestured the front of the stage, where two rows of chairs were placed neatly.

I slugged towards the front row, finding somewhere at the left. Once everyone settled down, I glanced around. The others all filled the second row. Except Justin, he sat somewhere on the right.

Someone threw a phone to the seat on my left. A Dragon Ball baseball hat followed. Jake. And his absurd fashion senses.

I tilted my head to the back. Jake sat behind me with Ryan, Ben and an apologetic smile. The traitor.

“Don’t want sit in the front and get on Natalie’s bad side, day one,” Jake explained.