The Art of Being Alone (Together)

03 | What Are Friends For

"So, over that way are the boys' cabins." Lizzie points to the trail in front of us as we exit the girls' area, where she's just finished showing me the surprisingly clean bathrooms. "We're not allowed to go their cabins and they're not allowed to come to ours. Counselors stay in the cabins with the younger campers to keep 'em out of trouble, but thankfully they trust us older kids not to break the rules."

I nod, remembering that info from the pamphlet. The loose supervision on the more mature campers was always a part of Camp Create It that made it look so appealing. I've heard of other camps that are ruled with an iron fist, with so many counselors and staff members around that it basically feels like you're being babysat by a bunch of strangers all summer.

I look towards the boys' area, where guys walk in and out of cabins carrying luggage and pillows, talking and laughing with each other. It looks identical to the girls' side, with two rows of cabins facing each other and lampposts lining the dirt path that goes all the way down to the lake. 

"The rest of the staff live that way," Lizzie points out towards the parking lot, "on the other side of the woods. That's also where the office is, but you won't need to go there unless you plan on getting into trouble."

I smile at her words, shaking my head. "Unlikely."

She smirks, a single eyebrow rising above her glasses. "But not impossible."

I shrug a shoulder, knowing it's probably closer to impossible than she thinks. If I'm keeping most of my attention on photography, I don't think I'll have the time-- let alone a reason-- to get into trouble.

"Down this way is the main area," she explains, leading me down the path that carves through the middle of the grounds. It's decorated with buildings that match the same wooden style of the cabins, but are much bigger. A few counselors are hanging around the porches, chatting with each other and watching as campers like me and Liz stroll past.

"These are the six workshop buildings. There's theater, writing, painting and drawing, fashion design, photography, and lastly, the crafts cabin."

She delves into explaining the different bracelet-making lessons and pottery nights while we keep walking. I glance at the photography building as we pass, getting a look inside as a counselor heads out, the door swinging behind him. Rows of desks and a large projector fill the bright room, which is decorated with various prints of portraits and landscapes.

"Up here is the mess hall," Lizzie says, grabbing my attention again.

We slow to a stop in front of two large, propped open doors. Inside, there's row after row of picnic tables, a few of which are covered in trays of food and stacks of disposable dining-ware. Campers are scattered throughout the room holding paper plates piled high with everything from cookies to carrot sticks.

"They have some snacks in there if you wanna grab some. I already had two cupcakes earlier, which I give my raving recommendation-- they're delicious."

I look inside, my eyes trailing the crowded room. Two guys a few feet away stare at Lizzie with wide eyes, laughing as they elbow each other. She doesn't notice the attention, still looking at me for an answer.

"I'm fine-- not really hungry," I say, wondering what the gawking is all about and why I'm ignoring my growling stomach to keep Lizzie away from it.

"In that case, I'll show you the lake and the fire pits." She checks the bright yellow watch on her wrist. "Then we can head over to the stage where they're holding the assembly."

I nod, following her to the lake we've been slowly walking towards. The flow of camp is set up so that most of the time, you're facing the water and taking in the view. Already, I know that said view is going to be the focus of a lot of my pictures this summer.

"So," I start, not wanting to leave Lizzie in silence after she's been so helpful. "What's the deal with our cabin-- I've been told it's haunted?"

She laughs, swatting away a few gnats with her hand. "Rumor has it. I guess we'll find out, huh? Honestly, the whole story sounds more sad than scary. I mean, if Grace Milner was real, it's totally sad to imagine her croaking here all by herself."

I don't exactly agree, since thanks to Mei and the tribulations of high school, the idea of living in total isolation doesn't really seem like that much of a bummer to me. Honestly, Grace Milner might've had the right idea-- I bet she never had to deal with total betrayal.

There's a low, electronic hum that rings out over the camp, and then a sharp crackling-- it takes me a second before I realize it's the sound of the many speakers placed throughout the grounds turning on. We stop walking, and the rest of camp seems to freeze in place too as everyone pauses and looks towards the nearest metal pole.

"Gooooood afternoon, Creatives!" A woman's voice sing-songs from the speakers. "This is Miss Rodriguez, owner and director of Camp Create It, letting you know that the first-day assembly will start at the stage in ten minutes! It's mandatory for everyone, even you returning campers. Make sure you drop your things off at your cabin first, and feel free to bring a snack with you from the mess hall. I can't wait to see your smiling faces!"

The speakers crackle out, clicking off. Life seems to return to the grounds as people start chatting and walking again, most now heading east along the lakeshore.

"Your grand tour is almost complete-- we'll head over in a second," Lizzie assures me as we make it to the sandy shore. "This is the dock, pretty self-explanatory." 

A few colorful canoes rest on the water, tied to the post of the wooden walkway. A small shack sits at the end, decorated with inner-tubes and life jackets. Nearby, a small lifeguard seat sits in the sand.

Lizzie points down the beach, where brown clusters of firewood sit in the sand, surrounded by large logs. "Those are the fire pits. They do movie nights down there sometimes, and s'mores, too. And that's pretty much everything!"

We turn around, heading to the other side of the beach. I look out to the horizon, taking in the thick woods that surround the perimeter of the lake, which is larger than it looked on the brochures. Overall, apart from the lack of Mei, it's pretty much just how I imagined it.

"Thanks for showing me around," I say, turning to Lizzie.

"Hey, no skin off my back." She grins, waving away the gratitude. "Like they say, what are friends for?"

My eyebrows raise, body almost freezing mid-step.

Friends?

Great, not even an hour here and I've already screwed up my plan.

"I-- right, yeah," I fumble over the words. Crap, why am I agreeing?

I shake it off-- most likely, Lizzie's just being nice to a newcomer. I'm sure that by the time the day is over, she'll be busy with her camp friends from the last two summers and I'll just be Delena, the girl she showed around and says hi to when we see each other in our cabin.

...Right?

Have you ever been to summer camp? 🏕

Any theories on what the guys gawking at Lizzie was all about? 🤔