Camp for the Emotionally (Un)Stable || Lams

Part One: Summer of Junior Year

|Third Person|

"Here we are, Jacky." John Laurens' mother croons next to his ear in a sickly sweet voice that he's grown to know so well. The kind of tone she uses to keep him in check when she's scared he'll lose it or something. He turns to glare at her for a moment before glaring at the camp sign a couple feet from their BMW.

Camp Medowview for Teens
We're here to help.

He wants to vomit as he reads those words once again. Help? They've done anything but help John since he's been coming here. He wasn't so sure of the whole depression thing they diagnosed him with during his freshman year, but this place is definitely to blame for the so called anger issues they're convinced he has.

"Do I have to go?" He whines, squinting at the rest of the kids and their parents milling around the front gates to the camp.

"Yes, sweetie. It's for your own good." John wants to smack her. His own good? What does she know about what he needs? Right now all he wants is to curl back under his blankets and remain there for the rest of the summer.

He turns back to his mother, suddenly struck with an epiphany. "What if this was my last year." He says, turning on his good boy attitude like always does to get what he wants. "I mean, I'm going to be a legal adult next time you send me here, so why can't this be my last year." He smiles at her sweetly, beginning to see the cracks in her reasoning before she straightens her face and fixes her posture.

"Now Jacky, this the kind of manipulation that Dr. Jeremy told me about. I don't want to see this kind of behavior anymore." She purses her lips as John rolls his eyes dramatically. Why couldn't she see that this camp was the thing pushing him to use manipulation. Something he still didn't understand how he was using. 

"Forget it." He says, then swings open his door and collects his bags from the backseat. He hoists them over his shoulder and bites his tongue so he won't flash her another snarky remark and send her into a frenzy. 

"Do you need help? Or do you just want me to walk you to the gate?" John's mother rolls down her window, craning her neck to see her son. "Jacky?" She calls when he doesn't answer.

"I've got it, mom." He says coldly, dragging his suitcase along the packed dirt of the parking lot. "And my name is John." He hisses the last line as he passes the car, just loud enough for his mother to hear. 

He approaches the front gates without thinking twice about that stupid BMW and his mother. He secretly wishes she'd crash on her way home and he'd be left to some other family member that actually knows how to take care of him. It's always been just him and his mom since neither of them know exactly who his dad is. As of late though, she's become too much for John to handle, making him long for a life where overbearing parents didn't exist. 

"John!" A familiar voice calls. Martha Washington smiles at the returning camper who looks just as annoyed as he usually does when he's dropped off. She knows it's nothing personal, he'll drop the moody thing in a couple of days. "It's good to see you again." She sits behind a wooden table under an umbrella to combat the sun overhead. The table is clouded with papers and clipboards that she nudges aside while she searches for the sign in sheet.

"Hi, Martha." John says blankly. He actually really likes Mrs. Washington, but he's not really in the mood for friendly banter. He just takes the clipboard she hands him and scrawls his name quickly, hoping he'll be able to take a nap before the opening ceremonies later on today, followed by dinner. 

"Alright, looks like you're in cabin twenty-four this year." She hands him a slip of paper that has his cabin number and roommate on it. 

John Laurens; Junior
Alexander Hamilton; Junior
Cabin #24

John squints at the name, he's never heard of an Alexander attending the camp. Maybe he's new, at least that's what John hopes. He's had trouble with the other campers sticking him with a reputation in previous years. He can only hope that he can start fresh this year with a new bunk mate. 

He tugs his bags past the gates, sending Martha a wave before winding through the other kids and cabins to the Junior's row. It's a set of army green sheds with little porches and solar lamps outside each door. Each one is marked with brass numbers nailed to the wood, and most of them have their windows thrown open and bags littering the front side. 

John silently counts along with the cabin numbers until he reaches the twenties. He sweeps his head from side to side, eventually landing on the infamous cabin twenty-four. He refrains from sighing dramatically as he climbs the two steps up to the door. The doors don't lock, and neither do the windows, something John has complained about before. Last year he had a run in with some douche bag stealing his shoes from him last year. They never caught the thief and John never got his Converse back, creating quite the argument when he got back home, wearing only his shower shoes. 

He cringes at the memory, remembering how his toes got infected from having to wear the dirty sandals all summer. He pushes it aside for now, anxious to meet his new roommate that may or may not already be weary of him. He hopes not. 

"...and we'll have dinner in the mess hall that I showed you right after-" The voice is cut off as John opens the door to reveal a thin figure next to Lafayette, the French kid who was only supposed to be here for one year but has been coming back for three now. "Hello, John." The two boys didn't have anything against each other, but Lafayette has heard the stories, just like everybody else. 

"Hey, Laf." John looks over at the other boy in the room, whom he hopes is Alexander and not some random Lafayette is letting in his cabin. "Who's this?" He gestures to the nervous-looking kid who tugs on the sleeves of his sweatshirt and looks up through a curtain of his long hair. 

"This is Alexander, your roommate I'm assuming." Lafayette quirks an eyebrow at John. "I'll leave you to get settled in, Alex. See you at the opening ceremony." He waves quickly and slips out the door towards his own cabin just a little down the path. 

"Hi, Alexander." John steps forward, putting on his best smile. Alex looks up and tucks his hair behind his ears, revealing his tanned completion and dark eyes that are accompanied by dark bags. 

"Hi," he says quietly, sticking his hands into the large pocket on the front of his sweatshirt that looks like it's seen better days. 

John shoves his bags over to the bed on the opposite side of the room, not bothering to unpack yet. "Where you from, Alex?" Alexander swallows as he sits on his own bed, pulling his legs up and sitting cross-legged. 

"Uh, New York." He says, his eyes widening as he speaks. 

"Really? And you came all the way to California for summer camp?" John yanks the tie from his hair and lets the curly mess sit on his shoulders for the time being. 

"I j-just moved here." Alex stutters, his face growing warm as he stumbles over his words. He's been to dozens of speech therapists trying to get the impediment under control. 

"Hmm," John looks over the kid again. He seems pretty normal, just shy. He can't help but wonder why he'd be sent here. Anxiety maybe, but that seems like a stretch for sending a nervous kid like him away for three whole months. "Well, I've been here my whole life. It's no exciting big city, but I think you'll like it." He flashes his smile to Alex again, earning a small one in return. John warms internally. Maybe he'll finally get a chance at making a real friend. 

Yet another story for me to keep up with... Great idea, Cailyn.

So this has a sort of cliche storyline, but I really like the characters. This will also be written in two parts, the summer of junior year and the summer of senior year. Feel free to comment any questions and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Ok, hope you enjoy!
<3