Welcome Campfire

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POV: Frankie



The scene at the campfire isn't exactly the kumbaya moment I had expected, but it certainly wasn't as terrifying as some events I'd been to in my life. Everyone was more or less clustered around the fire, or sitting off to the sides in little groups on blankets strung about. I tried to picture what it would look like with campers swarming the area, and a feeling of anxiety washed over me.

I could barely make it one day here without getting involved in something, and it had been years since I'd been placed in a family with younger kids. Was I really cut out for this? Were any of us?
"Isn't that your friend over there?" Rowan's voice cuts into my thoughts. I follow her extended thumb and see Blake in a cluster of guys, laughing and stomping on flaming marshmallows. I crack a smile.

"Unfortunately," I mutter, stifling a chuckle. Rowan laughs, setting me at ease.

"What's her name again?" Rowan asks as we approach the group.

"Their name is Blake," I reply. I'm really hoping that Rowan isn't going to be weird about it like the rest of the girls in our group home. Because then I would probably have to kick her ass, and then I'd really be in hot water.

"Gotcha," She says without missing a beat. Wow. Not even a hint of confusion. I have to say, I'm growing increasingly impressed with Lil Miss Legs for Days. "My little brother's name is Blake, actually. He's a camper here. We usually call him Froggy. Long story," She continues, laughing through the unnecessary anecdote. I offer her a smile, but before I can reply, she's being grabbed by the wrist by one of the boys and seated by the fire. I hesitantly crouch behind Blake, who hardly notices me.

"Dude," I whisper, clearly interrupting something. Blake turns to me, their mouth full of gooey marshmallow, and their eyes widen.

"Oh hey!" They exclaim, handing me the stick they had been fishing in and out of the fire with. I clutch it tightly, and force a smile. "How's it going?" They ask.

Really? Not even a thank you for what I did for them?

"Uh, it's fine. I see you're settling in.. nicely," I smile. I just want to change the subject, otherwise I'm going to start to dwell, and then I'll really get angry.

"Yeah! Dylan's actually really cool. Like really cool. It's been so long since I've hung out with any guys, and well, you know I love you, but it's just a different dynamic that I've been like, craving," Blake mutters. "Also, I might be a little stoned right now. They're cool dudes," Blake begins rambling and I grab their wrist.

"Who got you stoned!?" I exclaim, exacerbated. It's like every time I turn around I have to put out another fire that Blake has set— and then I end up going to jail for arson. Blake rolls their eyes.

"Dude, it's seriously not a big deal,"

"Okay, but if Marley finds out— it's over for you. You're on your last strike, and then you'll be out of here, out of this dude-fest, and be sent to a different girls home where they'll treat you like shit all over again!" I can feel my face growing hot, and I catch a glance from Rowan from across the fire.

"Okay, chill, Frankie. You're not my mom. I don't have a mom, and I don't need a mom. Can you just let me fit in for once? Please?" Blake's voice is rising too, and the attention from around the fire has completely shifted to us. I swallow, trying to breathe, and stand up.

"What are you all looking at?" I shout at the group of boys, my voice warbling. I notice a guy with his arm around Rowan and feel my stomach sink. Fuck. "What? Are y'all already scared of us? Of me? Fucking pathetic," I say, pissed that all these people have the audacity to look at my as if I'm crazy— as if I'm the one causing any problems. I turn away and head off into the night, embarrassed, angry, and feeling— for the first time since I'd met Blake— utterly, and completely alone.

I make it a good distance into the woods before I finally let myself inhale. I can still hear the music and see the red glow of the fire, but here away from judgmental eyes I feel my anger and embarrassment begin to melt away. I pull the sleeves of Rowan's hoodie tighter around my wrists, the chill of the summer night beginning to set in against my spine. It, too, had been a long time since I'd been so cold. I prop myself up against a large boulder, and focus on evening out my breath.

I hear a twig snap.

Fuck.

I quickly turn around and face Rowan dead in the eyes, and let out a sigh of relief.

"Shit, I thought you were a bear or something— or worse, Marley," I chuckle. I can see Rowan force a half-smile as she approaches me in the moonlight. She climbs up onto the boulder and looks at me, concern clouding her eyes.

"Are you okay?" She finally says. I look up at her from my standing position.

"...Not really." I reply. "But you really didn't need to come after me. I know I'm like, assigned to you or whatever, but this is just— not your problem," I sigh, but am thankful when she doesn't walk away, and even more so when she lets the silence envelope us for a moment. After a beat, she pats the rock beside her, then reaches out with her hand to help me climb up.

"You found your way to Kissing Rock all by yourself!" She laughs, breaking the silence and completely changing the subject. "Normally we wait until the end of the first week to take all the counselors out here. Y'know... once the camp romances start settling in," She wiggles her eyebrows around goofily and I can't help but be a little charmed.

I feel a blush rising in my cheeks, and brush my dark hair behind my ears— anything to keep my hands busy.

"Are, uh, camp romances common?" I chuckle back somewhat awkwardly. It all sounds pretty ridiculous to me. Rowan snorts.

"Of course they are. Campers. Counselors. We're all just people who want a story or two to tell," She smiles. I grimace.

"I have more than a story or two," I say wryly. She raises her eyebrows.

"You mean to tell me that you've already been whisked off your feet by the camp hottie, and stole away to Kissing Rock in the middle of the night to consummate your month long relationship?" She feigns a gasp. "I have to say, Frankie, I'm shocked. You don't strike me as the type," She laughs. I roll my eyes.

"Okay, well, no. I don't have any stories like that," I say, somewhat embarrassed to admit that to someone who has clearly had her fair share of fairy tales.

"Well, maybe when camp is over you'll have a story like that. To add to all of your other stories about punching people in the mess hall, and yelling at people you hardly know over a fire," She smiles. I blush.

"I'm sorry about that," I say quietly. "They probably think I'm crazy,"

Rowan puts a hand on my shoulder, and her touch instantly warms my body.

"It's okay. We knew this wasn't going to be easy—" She starts, but I pull away. There it is. Of course she expected this to be hard. Who wouldn't? Who wouldn't be scared to have a bunch of orphans who've each been to juvie multiple times each running around camp and looking after children? I'm just another project for the queen of the camp counselors. Just another 'little story' to put on her college applications.

"I'm going to head back to the cabin," I mutter, stalking away and leaving Rowan by herself on stupid little Kissing Rock. Kiss the back of your hand, asshole.


If you've never slept on a cot before, be thankful for your privilege. Hell, if you've never slept on the ground— save for a few sleepovers in a princess-themed sleeping bag, be thankful for your privilege. Sleeping in the cabin had proven difficult. Maybe it was the cold of the forest creeping in, despite neglecting to take off Rowan's hoodie before climbing under my covers. Or maybe it was the anxiety and frustration from the day begging to be felt. Or maybe it was the fact that after just two hours alone and awake, Rowan climbed into bed not even a foot away from me, smelling like campfire and strawberries. I kept rolling over to look at her in the dark. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, and I would study her face. She looked so calm, and so peaceful, and so annoyingly beautiful. Then I would turn away and try to push the anger back down my throat.

The next morning, I wake up to Rowan buttoning herself into a flannel, and pulling a camp t-shirt over her head. It was an interesting layering choice, but somehow, it worked on her. She notices me stirring, and throws an identical t-shirt at me. I groggily catch it and furrow my brow.

"The campers are coming today," She says, quietly. The usual musical tone to her voice had deflated, and she played with a locket around her neck rather than try to meet my eyes. I found myself instantly annoyed in this shift in her personality, but also knew that it was largely my fault. Last night was a total disaster.

"What time?" I murmur, pulling off her hoodie and yanking the t-shirt over my sports bra. I wasn't quite ready to tackle the showers today... low standards are still standards.

"Noon," She replies quickly.

"What time is it?" I ask, still somewhat delirious.

"Six,"

"What the fuck?" I mutter. No wonder my head was absolutely ringing— I must have gotten no more than two hours of sleep!
"Learn to deal with it, Frankie. It's camp. It's not as easy as you think," She stands up and exits the cabin, and I have no choice but to follow her, sliding into my beat-up checkered vans as I scramble after her. Without thinking, I grab her hoodie again and tie it around my waist, preparing to face the brisk chill of the early morning.

"Are you okay?" I ask, finally catching up to her. Even though she wasn't that much taller than me, her legs were much longer and it seemed impossible to keep pace with her.

She stops dead in her tracks.

"I'm frustrated with you," She replies bluntly, seemingly holding her breath. I nearly fall over trying to stop myself to face her. Jesus. I'm used to being the honest one, and her forwardness takes me off guard.

"I really just want us to get along and be friends, but it feels like the second I get through to you, you lash out and find something to be angry at," She says through gritted teeth, keeping her voice down as other counselors pass by us and head down the hill to the mess hall. I blush. "I'm sorry if that's harsh but, Frankie, I'm just trying my best and I feel like you don't like me— and, well, to be honest, it just feels stupid and unfair," She laughs, staring up at the sky. I instinctively grab her wrist. Shit.

This was the first time she ever seemed... human, rather than super-human, and I got carried away. It was always my instinct to comfort people who weren't okay.

"Look— I'm sorry about last night. And all of yesterday. I'm having a hard time adjusting, and maybe I'm taking it out on you or whatever but, I don't know— I'm just sorry. I like you— uh, I think you seem cool and, please just feel free to tell me I'm being an asshole? Ok? I'm sorry," I ramble on for a minute before Rowan grabs my hand back.

"Okay. Thank you," She smiles at me, genuinely. It doesn't feel like the fake, cheerleader, spirit-bitch smile she's been throwing around this whole time, it feels real— and it makes my stupid heart skip a stupid beat.

"I really think you're going to make a good counselor, Frankie. When I said I thought this would be difficult.. I didn't mean to offend you. Usually our counselors-in-training are ex-campers and already know what camp is like, and this whole thing was my idea and I really didn't want to screw it up—" She continues talking, but I'm hardly listening. This was her idea? Why in gods name would she ever voluntarily do something like this? I cut her off.

"No, no, no. I was only offended, for like, a second," I reply. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"Okay, like a few hours. Or until just now. But, come on, it's not exactly easy to trust people when you've been stabbed by not one but two different roommates," I laugh, nodding my head towards the mess hall and beginning to walk. Rowan quickly catches pace and her eyes widen.

"Seriously? Please tell me that's one of your weird jokes and not a true story—" She chortles. The dappled, early-morning sunlight streams down on her face and lights up her blue eyes. I see a parade of light freckles dancing across her nose and on top of her cheekbones, and every time I make her laugh, I want to hear it again the second that it's gone.

"Naw, that's a totally true story. Well, two stories. I have a knack for getting paired with unstable roommates," I continue, just hoping to hear her laugh again. We continue talking back and forth, and I unconsciously untie her hoodie from around my waist and put it on, the now-familiar smell of strawberries putting me at ease as we enter the mess hall together. Blake instantly glances up and tries to make puppy-dog eye contact with me from their spot across the room, but Rowan grabs my arm and pulls me into the seat next to her, and all of my thoughts melt away as her bare knee brushes against mine. Sorry, Blake.

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A/N:
Hi guys! I hope you're liking the story! Who is your favorite character so far? And did you come here after reading one of my other stories? I love you all! :-)  

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