Erin let Chris kiss her for a while. It was like a blanket of security had enveloped her in it's warmth and softness, and for that moment, she felt like he really cared.

Truth be told, although Erin didn't know it, her mentality was on the verge of a breakdown.

She needed to be talked to and cared about. And Connor would've offered that.

But Erin was too confused to accept it willingly, and when Chris kissed her, it was something that Erin couldn't get out of. She couldn't accept it, he'd given it to her.

He'd given the security and the bond she needed without running to it.

Then, Chris pushed Erin away.

She scanned him with curious eyes. "What?" she asked, and Chris shook his head.

"I can't do this," he told her, making no gesture to release her from his hold.

Erin gave him a questioning look.

"You're leaving because of me. Because of Connor. Because of what we've caused you to deal with." he said.

"And I'm tired of hurting, both myself and you." he added, and kissed her forehead.

"Come. I'll help you pack." he said.

Ordinarily, helping another person pack is an insult. This time, Chris was helping Erin to help herself.

Erin decided to leave the glade air freshener in the bathroom. A token of her appreciation and her donation to the boys.

When she was finished, she lugged one suitcase down while Chris grabbed the bigger.

Without a word, she went down the stairs and toward the door, ignoring Ben, who stood up. Erin opened the door, and left the D-13 without looking back.

Chris helped her load the trunk, and hugged her good-bye, leaving, and shutting the door.

That's not my cabin anymore, Erin couldn't help thinking.

Andrew is going to love this. she added, and turned to her car.

Something on the windshield caught her eye.

She lifted her wipers, and picked up two pieces of paper, seemingly that had once been one, and now was two.

She studied the drawing with a saddened heart.
She hadn't meant to hurt Connor like this.

The next few weeks were slow ones. Erin's roommate, a girl who had gone streaking on a dare, was a fun and wild-child kind of girl, but Erin couldn't bring herself to go prank the girl's friends in the middle of the night.

"Come on, Erin. It'll be fun." she'd begged her one night at about 3:00.

"No, Mandy, I just don't want to go." Erin mumbled back, half asleep.

Mandy ran over to Erin's bed and started jumping on it, moaning, "come on! Come on!"

Erin gazed at her clock with the Devil's eyes.

"How did you get stuck in the isolation cabin anyway? You're no fun. You couldn't have done anything stupid."

Erin smirked. If she only knew what Erin was capable of. None of this streaking or pranking friends in the middle of the night business. It was hardcore stuff, like...putting neon pink dye in their shampoo bottles,and putting ex-lax in between their lettuce and tomato on a sandwich. It was drawing on their face with multiple colors of permanent marker when they slept. It was a ketchup and mustard fight and shanking them in the pool. Of course, this was when she wasn't depressed and sleeping all the time, like she'd been lately.

"Mandy, I promise, if you don't get off my bed and leave me alone now, you'll have green hair and a face to match it in the morning." Erin threatened dryly.

After careful consideration, Mandy slid off the bed and went to sit on hers, the cringing sqeak of the rusty bed springs as she sat.

Soon, Erin was asleep again, haunted by the black-and-white dreams of void she'd been having.

Every night, they'd been dreams about being lost, never finding her way, or finding something that she knew wasn't there, but searching for it anyway.

They were a little like nightmares, coming back one after another after another.

Sure, they weren't scary. She was never trapped in a box being chased after by a giant tarantula, but after a couple nights, the lost feeling was starting to affect her awake life as well.

Erin's days were quite monotonous. Woke up, skipped breakfast in favor of crossword puzzles and Oreos whilst sitting on her bed.

Around lunch time, she'd get up after Mandy pestered her for a while, and ate lunch with Mandy at the isolation table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

She often watched the boys up on the second level, laughing and joking around, but she never saw Connor, whom she found herself searching for a lot.

This particular day, Mandy happened to catch Erin watching the boys.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, her mouth full of apple, and turned around to look in Erin's general direction.

"Those boys," she replied.

"Ooooh, you like one of them?" asked Mandy deviously.

Erin shook her head slowly, making an 'eh' face.
Mandy seemed disappointed. "Oh," she mumbled, taking a bite of her macaroni.
But still, Erin watched them. And then her eyes grew big.
For months, Connor had been absent from the table. There were even rumors that he'd left the camp for good.
But there he was, sitting with Ben, Chris, Mike and Luke, laughing like he'd never missed a day.

He didn't even look at her. Not a glance, not a glimmer. Not even any sign that he was trying not to look over at her.
He had to know she was there. Everyone knew she was in the isolation cabin. Some people thought she was there because she'd caused Connor to get kicked out of the camp.
But there he was, and she was still sitting at the table.
Miserable as ever before.

"What?" Mandy asked, seeing the difference in Erin's behavior. "Tell me," she said greedily, looking up at the boys.
"Nothing," Erin replied, trying to remain calm. He was there; he came back. But why? Something had changed. He didn't like her anymore.
"You like him," Mandy concluded, looking at Erin with devious eyes.
"What?" Erin snapped out of her reverie. "No," she added quickly.
Mandy snickered. "Hmm Mmm, sure," she replied, licking her spoon. "Does he know?" she asked deviously.
"We don't talk," Erin stated simply, pushing around her food.
"Well you should."
"Mandy, we just don't, okay?"

Mandy sighed. "So he's why you're so sluggish." she announced.
Erin gave Mandy a confused look. "I just told you that we don't talk," she told her slowly.
"Exactly. And you're upset with that. You want to talk to him, you want to get to know him. People say that you got him kicked out of Camp Harvey!." Mandy told her, and Erin rolled her eyes.
"If he was kicked out, it wasn't because of me," she said.
Mandy shrugged. "Alright. There's no reasoning with you. Oh, I wanted to let you know I'll be out of the isolation cabin tomorrow. Counselor told me today. So, you'll be alone until I do something bad again," she said with a laugh.
"Great," Erin replied, trying to take a bite.
It tasted great, the macaroni did. But nothing like home.
She missed her home.

Andrew called that night.
"Hello?" Erin answered normally.
"Ere, what's wrong?" Andrew asked right off the bat.
Erin almost jumped. "Nothing, why?"
"You sound upset. What's wrong?" he asked again.
"Andy, I said nothing."

Mandy looked up now. "Who's Andy?" she asked.
Erin rolled her eyes and tossed her hand at Mandy, telling her to go away.
"Alright. I'm just worried about you. You're not yourself since you moved into the isolation cabin with that girl. What's her name again?" he asked.
Erin sighed. "Don't ask," she instructed.
"Alright. So what have you been doing lately?"
Erin blew air out of the corner of her mouth. "Uhm...breakfast in the cabin, lunch, sometimes going to the pool, shower, and dinner in bed." she said.
Andrew didn't say anything.
"Andy?"
"Erin." Andrew replied flatly.

Now she was going to get it. Andrew and the famous lecture.
"I wish you'd have fun there, Ere." he said. "You're wasting Mom's money by sitting in your cabin all day doing nothing. I'd almost rather you were in the cabin with those hoodlums."
Erin cringed then. That was one of the worst things Andrew could say to her.
Being in the cabin, breaking her heart was one of the 'best' things that had happened to her.
Hardly.

"Look, Andy, I gotta go." she said.
"Good." Andrew replied. "Maybe you'll wake up with some sense in your head. We love you. Bye."
and Andrew hung up.

[Read, and review. Otherwise, you're basically telling me that you don't like what you're reading. That's how I interpret your non-reviewness.]