Cabin Nine [[Revised Edition] Under FURTHER Revision]

Nine

fifteen years old

I'm starting to get sick of camp. We're not the youngest anymore. We're right smack dab in the middle and that's somehow worse. Because Hunter and Thomas and everyone keeps talking about their girlfriends and I hate talking about mine.

I should want to talk about her, right? I should.

But I don't. She's a prissy, uptight, blonde idiot who would be lucky to get into clown college. Alright, that's not fair. She's a nice person and she genuinely cares about me. That's more than most other people could say. There's just this... distance between us that feels impossible to cross. Jack keeps telling me that we're not right together and I'm starting to think he's absolutely correct.

However.

There's some comfort in knowing that I don't have to worry about being made fun of for being single. And she's popular. She has all of these friends that absolutely love me. They ensure my protection from the sports guys that aren't from the soccer team. Jack adequately scares those guys away routinely, so I'm fine from them. Most of the soccer team opts to hate me in silence.

So I stay with her anyway.

Jack doesn't date anyone. Except for kissing Casey Bryce the day I broke my wrist, he's barely even been alone with a girl. That's where he said he was while I was fracturing a bone. In the arcade kissing Casey Bryce.

And I couldn't be mad. It was his first kiss. That's a big thing. Now that I look back on it, I kind of want to punch Casey Bryce in the face.

He's popular anyway, though, so it doesn't matter that he's single. All the girls flock to him because he's a jock. Casey Bryce keeps her distance.

Jack says a lot of them back off when they realize he's Christian. I don't understand that at all. If anything, that's the best quality for someone to have. If they're good Christians, that means they respect women, embrace diversity, and spread love. But there's also the bad kind. The kind that my parents are. The kind that David isn't. The kind that Delilah isn't. The kind that I don't want to be.

Romance aside, it's a good year nonetheless.

I don't really have a reason. It's just all yellow and pink and it's everything.