Wildflower & Firefly

Chapter 2: The Unfolding

June 2nd, 10:00 AM

I woke up to the smell of pancakes drifting through the cabin. The sun was already high in the sky, casting warm light through the thin curtains on my side of the room. I had barely slept last night, tossing and turning in the unfamiliar bed. My feeding tube felt more intrusive than usual, especially with the heat pressing against me, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in a world that seemed so effortlessly normal for everyone else.

I glanced over at the bunk across from mine. Lo was still asleep, sprawled out on her back like she didn't have a care in the world. She looked so... peaceful. It was odd, seeing her so vulnerable—without the usual confident, almost commanding presence she wore like a second skin. I couldn't help but admire the way she seemed to take everything in stride. No stress, no worry, just... being.

I wish I could be like that.

After a few more minutes of staring up at the ceiling, I finally decided to get out of bed. My asthma had been bothering me all night, and my chest felt tight again. I fumbled for my inhaler on the nightstand, trying to quiet the panic that was creeping into my mind. The feeling of suffocation wasn't new to me, but it never got easier to handle. After a few puffs, I started to feel a little better.

I glanced at Lo once more. She was still sleeping, her lips parted slightly as she exhaled evenly. I couldn't help but wonder if she'd be awake soon or if I should just go ahead and get breakfast.

Pulling on a loose T-shirt and some shorts, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and checked the time. I had just enough time to sneak out and get a glimpse of the camp before we had to meet everyone for breakfast. Maybe seeing the other campers and counselors would distract me from the discomfort in my chest and the ever-present hum of anxiety that buzzed in the back of my mind.

I slipped out of the cabin quietly, my sandals brushing against the dusty ground. The campgrounds were peaceful at this early hour. Most campers were still in their cabins, probably still asleep, or maybe starting to stir, but for now, the camp felt empty—like it belonged only to me. The trees were tall and thick, the air was fresh, and everything felt alive with the promise of new beginnings.

As I wandered around, I started to feel a bit more at ease. The tightness in my chest had loosened, and the steady rhythm of my breathing reminded me that I was okay—even if I didn't feel like it all the time.

After a few minutes, I heard someone approaching. At first, I thought it was another camper or a counselor, but then I caught a familiar voice.

"Hey, kitten." Lo's voice was warm and teasing, like she always knew when I was getting lost in my own thoughts.

I turned to find her leaning against a tree, arms crossed and a soft smirk on her face. She was dressed in a loose tank top and cargo shorts, the kind of outfit that seemed effortless but somehow fit her perfectly. She looked so comfortable in her own skin, something I couldn't always say about myself.

"You should be in the mess hall, getting pancakes." She took a step forward, her eyes flicking over me in that way she always did—like she was seeing more than I was letting on.

I smiled weakly. "Yeah, I was just... looking around. Getting used to it."

Lo raised an eyebrow, that knowing glint still in her eyes. "I'm sure. You were looking for a way out, weren't you?"

I chuckled nervously. "Maybe."

She took a few more steps closer, her shoes crunching against the dry ground beneath her feet. When she was just a few inches from me, she stopped and tilted her head slightly. "It's okay, Mary. You don't have to hide. I know how it feels."

I blinked, surprised by her words. "You do?"

Lo smiled softly, the kind of smile that made something warm curl up in my chest. "Yeah. Everyone's got their own battles. Yours might look different from mine, but I get it."

For a moment, I didn't know how to respond. The truth was, I didn't always feel like I belonged anywhere. Not at school, not with my family, and especially not here at camp. My asthma, my feeding tube... they made me feel like an outsider. Like I didn't quite fit in with the rest of the world.

Before I could say anything, Lo reached out and gently touched my arm. Her hand was warm and firm, and the touch sent a strange kind of shiver down my spine.

"You're not alone here, you know," she said quietly, almost like she was sharing a secret. "I've got your back, Mary. Whatever you need. You don't have to go through it all alone."

Her words hung in the air, and for the first time since arriving, I felt a little lighter. Maybe it was the way she said it—like she truly meant it, like she saw something in me that I didn't know was there.

"Thanks, Lo," I whispered, feeling my throat tighten.

She gave me a soft smile, her eyes softening as if she could sense the unspoken things I couldn't quite voice. "Anytime, butterfly."

I blinked, her words catching me off guard. She had started calling me that last night after dinner, but hearing it again now—there was something about the way she said it, like it wasn't just a nickname, but something deeper.

Before I could say anything else, Lo turned toward the mess hall, her hand brushing against my arm as she gestured toward the building. "Come on, let's get you some food. We can talk more later."

I followed her, my feet heavy with uncertainty but my heart oddly lighter, like there was hope I hadn't realized I needed.