Camp Redwood

I’m sitting in a haze of smoke.

Therapy, as per usual, was melodramatic and boring.

This morning, Aubrey had a mini-mental breakdown and booked it.

The session ended abruptly, and we all went our separate ways. Keegan kept staring at me.

I was pretty close to smacking him.

So, because I didn’t want to slap him or punch him in the face or anything like that, I took to hiding out in my cabin. I found the cigarettes in the false bottom of my nightstand. It wasn’t like I was a habitual smoker, but I had been known to enjoy a cigarette every now and again. I’m been sitting here for almost a half hour before someone knocks on my door timidly and I huff, sullen.

“I’m busy!”

“It’s Aubrey!”

I roll my eyes, hopping off my bed as I walk over to the door.

“What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you, silly! Just let me in.” I sigh but comply, opening my door a tiny crack. She shuts it behind her, coughing into her little fist. “What’s all this?” I hold up the cigarette and she coughs. “Are you gonna put that out?”

“Probably not, Aubrey.” She makes a face. “What?”

“Can we go outside or something then?” I shrug, leading her out to the small wooden porch behind the cabin. I sit on the floor and she follows suit, crossing her legs beneath her.

“What’d you want again?” I ask, looking over at her.

“Keegan wanted me to—” I raise a hand, shaking my head.

“Stop.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Aubrey.”

“But he—”

“I don’t care,” I said slowly, looking over at her.

“Don’t you want to hear what he wanted me to tell you?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“But he—”

“You’re really not letting this go, huh?” I take a final drag and toss it into some bushes, wiping my hands off my shorts. I pull out a crushed pack of gum, offering one to Aubrey. She takes it and tucks it into her pocket, sighing quietly. “Really? Did he bribe you?” She smiles and pulls out a candy bar, giggling. “You know you can just eat it and not tell me anything, right? He wouldn’t know the difference.”

“But I would.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingertips.

“What does he want?” I murmur irritably.

“Well, he wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry and that he really wants to talk to you and stuff.” She shrugs. “Also, he likes you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“It’s obvious.” She shrugs. “It’s kind of sad.”



I’m sitting on the sand, trying to keep a discreet eye on Forrest and Kalliope. As far as anyone else knows, I’m trying to work on my tan. I’m trying to read a magazine, but Kalliope’s laugh is starting to grate on my nerves.

I’m not jealous.

I’m really not, I’m just kind of annoyed because I had pretty much been planning on hooking up with Forrest before she got ‘with him’ or whatever. She’s kind of put a wrench in my plans, but that can be easily fixed.

“Cut it out!” she giggles, trying to build a sand castle. He keeps knocking it over with his feet. I glare at her through my sunglasses, growing more and more annoyed. I shift on my towel, trying to get comfortable. I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? Okay, yeah, I’m kind of a major bitch, but can you really blame me? Can you? Everybody here just bothers me. Except Forrest.

Forrest was kind of really perfect.

If I had things my way—which I probably would—we were going to have some serious fun.

I set my magazine down and close my eyes, feeling the warm sun on my skin. It was kind of soothing, and it helped take my mind off of things. Suddenly, it got cold and dark and I couldn’t feel the sun’s rays on my skin. I raised my sunglasses up, only to see that it was Keegan. I roll my eyes, setting my sunglasses back down on my nose as I lay down again.

“You’re blocking my light.” He sits next to me and I glare at him, annoyed. “What?”

“You’re still mad at me?” I sit up. He sounds kind of upset. Why?

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he says quickly. I glance over at Forrest, who’s kind of glaring at Keegan, who’s kind of glancing at…Kalliope? For real? This bitch needs to go. She’s got almost everybody here wrapped around her fingers.

“Hey!” I exclaim, trying to get Keegan’s attention. “I’m over here.” He looks back over at me, slightly embarrassed.

“I’m just, you know, uh…” he trails off. “I don’t know.”

“I can’t believe you actually bribed Aubrey,” I say. “You’re shameless.”

“What’d she tell you?”

“Lots. I don’t know if I should believe her or not, you know, because she gets so excited about stuff and I mean, maybe she exaggerated or something. Who knows?” I stand up and wrap my towel around myself, slipping into my sandals. He looks at Kalliope again and I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Get up.” We walk together in silence, and I frown, thinking about what Aubrey said. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you keep trying?” He shrugged, his bony shoulders poking through his thin shirt.

“Dunno,” he says, gnawing on his lip, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I want to.”



I’m watching them again.

It’s not like I have anything else to do, I muse, looking down at my plate of cold chicken and fries and ketchup. It’s too hot to eat, too hot to walk, too hot to do anything but sit and wait it out. So, I do. I sit and watch Kalliope and Forrest, watching as she pokes his cheek, sticking her tongue out at him. He kisses her and I look in another direction. I want that.

I mean, I want him to be happy or whatever, and apparently, he’s happy with Kalliope—or maybe she’s just putting out and the sex is pretty much mind blowing, who knows—so what can I do but pine after him pathetically? It’s not like anybody’ll really notice. Keegan sits in front of me—of course—and I don’t look up at him because I’m still confused about yesterday’s conversation with Aubrey. He’s staring at me so I stare back, resting my head on my hand.

“You know he likes her,” he says.

“But he’s so out of her league! And you know she likes him, right?” I reply bitingly. I’m not an idiot, I can piece two and two together. I mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he probably likes Kalliope too, or at least wants to get in her pants. I won’t admit it annoys me—but it does, a little—but I’m not going to let him act all holier-than-thou when he’s in the same boat I am.

“She’s pretty hot.”

“You’re not helping.”

“But what does it even matter? They’re like, together or whatever, Lupe.”

“I know.”

We’re silent.

“Your eyes are really pretty.”

“That hat looks lame.” I knock it off his head and smile a little. “There.”

I change the subject because I can, because I don’t want to talk about myself, not now, not ever, but Keegan apparently does. I don’t understand him, and it bothers me. I mean, I understand Forrest (little rich kid who gets plastered because his parents don’t pay attention to him or whatever), I understand Kalliope (self-righteous idiot who gets everything I want), I understand Aubrey (sweetheart with a horrible sweet tooth), and I even understand Sebastian (counselor who thinks that spending a couple of months with crazy teenagers makes him a better person or whatever), but I don’t get Keegan at all. I mean, he acts like a jerk one day, is nice to me the other, likes me one day and likes Kalliope the next.

What?

I don’t need this.

“What are you thinking about, sweet cheeks?”

“Stupid stuff.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“You said you liked me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I do, buttercup.”

“I asked you why.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I’d like to.”

“You’re an idiot.”



“Don’t you like him?” Aubrey asks me. We’re on the boardwalk. Aubrey’s trying to get Sebastian to notice her—he’s staring at her whenever he thinks she can’t see him, not accounting for the fact that everybody else can see him too—and is laying on her stomach, feet crossed in the air as she sighs with want. This whole thing with Sebastian—whatever it is—is kind of cute. She doesn’t need to know that. Keegan is talking to him, looking up from his post on the sand.

“I don’t know.”

“Not even a little?” I shrug in response, fixing my bikini strap self consciously under my t-shirt.

“He really likes you.”

“Shut up.”

“I think you like him.”

“I don’t.” He’s cute, I guess, but that’s as far as it goes.

“Who do you like then?” she laughs.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” I say, standing up when I see Keegan walking towards us, running to the end of the boardwalk and jumping off, tossing my shirt somewhere on the sand, diving into the warm water.



I’m in the library. It seems like Keegan has found out that I spend most of my mornings and early afternoons here. He’s looking through the shelves, then glances at me.

“Oh, hi, buttercup.”

“What a surprise,” I say flatly, rolling my eyes.

“What’re you up to?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“That’s another good book,” he says, pointing at my dog eared copy of Catcher in the Rye.

“It’s lame.” I stand up, putting it back on the shelf. I grab my bag and slip it on, stalking out of the library. He follows. I plan on going back to my cabin, and I’m almost there. I’m planning to be really dramatic and slam the door in his face and everything, but I don’t get the chance to. I stop dead in my tracks when I see Forrest standing outside of Aubrey’s (and unfortunately Kalliope’s) cabin.

They’re pretty much making out.

I storm away in the other direction, feeling that all too familiar sting in the back of my eyes. I can’t stand it here.



I’ve decided that I might as well give Keegan a shot and have a decent conversation with him to see what he has to say, because this thing with Forrest isn’t going anywhere anyway, and I might as well just wait until he gets sick of her—which he will soon, I hope—so I’ll hang out with Keegan in the mean time. It’s not like I have anything better to do. He’s not in any of his usual haunts—which were mine first, for the record—so I head over to his cabin. I have to ask Aubrey for directions and bribe her with the rest of my gum to get her to keep her mouth shut.

I peek in the window.

I feel sick.

Kalliope’s there with Keegan and Forrest isn’t around.

I start running before I can see anything else.

I don’t want to know.



I’m sitting on the back porch, smoking my last cigarette—the fact that I’ve smoked this entire pack today should tell you something—trying not to cry. I can’t stop, though, and I’d like to blame it on withdrawal, but it’s not screwing up my feelings anymore—or at least, it shouldn’t be—so I can’t. I don’t want to blame it on Forrest, because it’s really not his fault, it’s hers, because she gets Forrest and Keegan and that’s not fair.

None of this is fair and I can’t stand it.

I would sit and smoke inside, but my roommate is a little goody-two shoes that I simply can not stand and she’s having a late night gab fest with all her other friends.

They’re annoying.

I try not to pay attention to what goes on in there, because it’s basically a bunch of bickering and gossiping and so on. However, my interest is slightly piqued when they start yelling and laughing and giggling and I hear my name. What the hell? I turn around and look through the window, only to see Keegan, who looks overjoyed to be in a room of teenage girls clad in short shorts and tank tops. He makes his way to the back door anyway, though and I turn back around, smoking my cigarette, ready to tell him to leave and go back to hell.

He sits down next to me and I sniffle despite myself, wiping my nose with my sweater sleeve.

“Lupe.”

“I hate you.” He scoots over and I look at him, narrowing my eyes. “Go away.”

“You’re crying.”

“Fuck off!” I spit at him angrily. “I’m not crying.”

“Liar,” he laughs. I don’t. He looks serious. “What did I do?” I tell him that I saw him with Kalliope the night before and he laughs, shaking his head. “We were just hanging out, Lupe.”

“But you like her.”

“No. Well, sort of. I think she’s pretty hot, I dunno.” I glare at him, throwing my cigarette away. “What?!” I sniffle, shaking my head. “I mean, you’re a total bitch and hot and cute—and I mean, uh, stuff. And, you know, it could work between us, maybe but…I don’t… I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“’Cause,” he mumbles. “I don’t know, I mean—”

“She has a boyfriend,” I say, feeling my tears starting to come back. “You know that right? You know that she won’t ever see you like that because of Forrest—”

“And you know that Forrest won’t see you like that either.” I feel my lip trembling. “I just…it’s different, you and Kallie. I mean, I like you, but I like Kallie. It’s not that you’re not—I just—she’s just—”

“Prettier and better and smarter and hotter and—”

“No, no, Lupe it’s not that at all—”

“Then what is it?” He’s silent at first. I wipe at my eyes and sniffle, trying not to cry (but fail horridly).

“It’s ’cause you keep pushing me away and I don’t know what you want from me. At least Kalliope doesn’t do that. She knows what she wants.”

“I hate you,” I mumble, starting to cry. “I hate you so much.”

“Please don’t cry.”

“Can you please just—please just—I want to be alone.”

“Lupe—”

“Go away!” I exclaim, turning away from him.

I hate everybody.