𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

2. Radio match

"Sippin' her drink and laughin' at imaginary jokes
As all the signals are sent, her eyes invite you to approach"
-Arctic Monkeys // No. 1 Party Anthem

———

WHEN THE ROAD CAME TO AN END, we set off walking into our camp. I trace the outline of the tree as we embark our new camping stories within. We passed by couple of birds that sang and muds that were not too shallow nor deep. We had fun.

Laughter echoed through the woods as if the trees themselves joined in our merriment, and we arrived at our cabin like feathers finding refuge.

Inside, as I entered the shared space, my eyes met someone — perhaps the girl with the short wolf-cut hair, casually enjoying an apple. "Hey there, newcomer!" she greeted with a friendly smile.

"I'm Ebony. Need a hand with your stuff?" Her offer floated in the air like a harmonious melody, a symphony of camaraderie that resonated in the heart of our shared cabin life.

Grateful for the welcoming atmosphere, I smiled back at Ebony. "Thanks, Ebony! I'm Aliee. Sure, I'd appreciate the help," I replied, handing over my luggage.

Ebony looked pale, but she seems energetic. She manages to lift my three bags and one strolling bag that had full of clothes in it. Damn she was strong.

I looked over towards Clarisse and Freya who chose their new clothes to wear after our morning activites. They looked stressful on what to wear however, I just ignored them and chuckled in return.

I turn back to Ebony who had her eyes on mine earlier. Why was she staring at me? Do I look awful? Do I smell? What's wrong? That single thing she did made me question so much.

Ebony's eyes held a mysterious gleam as if they harbored secrets waiting to be shared. Curiosity piqued, I couldn't help but inquire, "Ebony, what's on your mind? You've got that 'knowing something I don't' look."

She chuckled, the sound a melodic dance in the air. "Oh, Aliee, it's nothing mysterious. It's just that you've got this aura of untold stories, like a book waiting to be opened. I find it intriguing."

Surprised by her unexpected response, I couldn't help but laugh. "Untold stories? I guess life's been weaving its own plot twists lately. What about you, Ebony? Any tales from the wild you'd like to share?"

Leaning back, Ebony grinned, "Oh, plenty! But let's save those for the late-night campfire. Trust me; the best stories are born when the moon's our only witness." The anticipation in her voice mirrored the promise of a night filled with shared secrets beneath the stars.

As we settled into the cabin routine, the night sky painted itself with hues of twilight, casting a soft glow through the cabin windows.

The night air outside whispered promises, and as we continued our conversation, Ebony's words wove a tapestry of adventure. "You see, Aliee," she began, her eyes reflecting the flickering cabin lights, "camp isn't just about the trails we tread or the trees we climb.

It's about the moments, the stories we collect like fireflies in a jar." Intrigued, I leaned in, eager for more. "Tell me one of your favorite campfire stories, Ebony."

Her gaze turned distant, lost in the canvas of memories. "Alright, picture this: a moonlit night, a hidden lake, and the soft hum of nature as our soundtrack.

We stumbled upon an ancient tree with luminescent fireflies, each one carrying a tale of its own. That night, we felt like we were part of a story older than time, written by the universe itself."

The cabin seemed to hold its breath, caught in the magic of Ebony's narrative. As she concluded, a shared silence settled between us, a silent acknowledgment of the enchantment that awaited us under the stars.

Ebony's eyes twinkled, capturing the essence of a thousand adventures.

"But here's the thing, Aliee," she continued, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "each night at camp has the potential to be its own chapter, filled with unexpected twists and turns. The key is to embrace the unknown and let the stories unfold naturally."

As the night deepened, the cabin buzzed with a gentle excitement. Ebony's tales ignited a spark of anticipation, and I found myself caught in the spell of campfire lore.

"Do you believe," she mused, "that sometimes, the best stories are the ones we stumble upon, like hidden treasures along the trail?"

I nodded, a silent agreement to the unspoken pact of embracing the unforeseen. The cabin walls seemed to resonate with the spirit of adventure, and as we ventured into the night, I couldn't help but feel that each step held the potential for a story waiting to be written, a chapter waiting to unfold.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Ebony reached into her bag and pulled out a vintage radio, a relic from a bygone era. "Let's add a soundtrack to our camp tales, shall we?" she proposed, fingers dancing over the radio's worn buttons.

Curiosity sparked, I grinned, "A radio in the wilderness? That's unexpected."

Ebony winked, "Expect the unexpected, Aliee. Now, let's see what musical treasures we can uncover." She tuned the radio, the static crackling like the opening notes of an untold melody.

As the radio cycled through channels, Ebony's smile widened. "Ah, the Smiths. Classic choice." The melancholic yet melodic strains of the band filled the cabin, creating a nostalgic atmosphere that hung in the air like a comforting mist.

Ebony leaned back, asking, "Ever listened to the Smiths, Aliee?"

As the familiar intro of one of the Smiths song called "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable" started playing, I couldn't contain my excitement. "Are you kidding me? I love the Smiths!" I exclaimed, my enthusiasm breaking through like the sun after a storm.

I gushed about my favorite tracks, my connection to their music, and the countless times their melodies had been my companions during quiet moments.

Ebony's grin widened, and she nodded in rhythm with the music. "Looks like we've found a shared love for the classics. There's something magical about the Smiths, isn't there?"

As the music enveloped us, Ebony leaned back, sharing in the joy of a serendipitous musical discovery. The cabin became a haven where our stories intertwined with the timeless lyrics, creating a symphony of connection beneath the vast night sky.

As the final notes of the Smiths faded into the night, Ebony stretched, a contented smile gracing her features. "Well, Aliee, it's time for some shut-eye. Tomorrow's adventures await," she said, her voice carrying the promise of untold stories under the stars.

"Goodnight, Ebony," I replied, but there was something in the way she said, "Goodnight, dear," that lingered in the air like a sweet melody.

The words held a resonance beyond casual goodbyes, leaving me with a sense of intrigue and a quiet stirring within.

In the cabin's dim light, Ebony's silhouette blended with the shadows, and as she disappeared into her sleeping quarters, I couldn't shake the feeling that the night held secrets yet to unfold — secrets that whispered in the rustle of leaves and the soft breath of the wilderness, leaving me suspended in a cliffhanger of anticipation beneath the moonlit canopy.