one
Muttering curses and swears to yourself you rummaged through the remnants of what used to be your beloved cabin. Your one escape from all the anarchy and discord caused by the lawless campers. Kicking way some of the charred wood you find your Journal, still warm from the burns. In this journal you wrote all your thoughts, dreams, pain, asparations, feelings and secrets. Broken glass crunches under your careful footsteps. You run your hand along its hard cover pushing off the soot and ash, your stomach dropped as you reluctantly opened it and peered down at the singed illegible pages. Tears well in your eyes. You drop the book back into the rubble.
"Are you fucking crying?" You heard a familiar irritated voice behind you.
You suck in air from your teeth, "Max, now's not the time." You feel your shoulders tense in anger. You usually really liked him. You two resonate well with each other, you saw a bit of yourself in him. Though he's a petulant, entitled, bratty kid always keeping you and the other counselors on your toes, you respected him. But this time he pushed a little too far.
"What? I'm just saying, if you didn't want to get your cabin destroyed along with your belongings, why did you get a job as a camp counselor?" He shrugged, his words over-saturated in sarcasm. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands as an effort not to go off on the kid. You inhaled deeply about to respond but you were cut off when you felt a hand on your shoulder.
"What is going on here" One of your co-counselors, David, asked a bit too cheerfully but still stern. He was out of breath. He probably ran over from the activities field when he heard the commotion.
"This fucking urchin set off fireworks in my cabin!" You yelled, motioning to the smoking shambles of a cabin, not being able to keep your composure any longer. Davids eyes widened and crossed his arms turning his view to max.
"I thought I locked all the fireworks in the Quartermaster Store?" He huffed, glancing back at the scorched ruins.
"Old fogey let me take them back if I gave him a lock of Preston's hair" Max smirked with pride of his strange trading endeavours and use of outdated slang. He then burrowed his hands in his hoodie pocket. David was furious, at least in David's standards he was furious. You withdraw out of frustration and retreat to the mess hall and hear Davids scolding fade away as you close the doors behind you, making sure to turn the lock so no one can intrude.
Since the first day of working at Camp Campbell, you cliqued with your other co-counselor, Gwen, straight away. You two had so much in common right off the bat. You would often crash in her cabin for a night or two a week and she would do the same with you. She had similar tastes in movies, shows, books and music. You also shared a similar attitude, though you did tolerate the kids more than her. You two had a kindred spirit, both creative, bold and independent.
On the other hand, there's David. You were never too fond of that guy. He was always getting on your nerves. His peppy actions, his chipper voice, his sprightly can-do attitude. All of it would always annoy you in some way or another. He was never not annoying. The way he walks, the way he talks, the way he's always smiling, his hobbies, his stupid shorts. Just looking at him made you fume. It would be a definite understatement if you said you were neutral on David, but you wouldn't say you hate him. You bolted up at the sound of two quick knocks at the double doors of the mess hall.
"Hey, can I come in?" David's voice asked wearily through the wood. You sigh, quickly rubbing the tears from your cheeks. You trudged to the doors, noticing the forest green paint chipping in multiple places. Sighing as you turn the lock slow till it clicks heavily. You creak the door open a few inches. David took a deep breath, "I dealt with max. Hes going on a 5 hour canoe trip with me tomorrow so we can talk. Hopefully I can get through to him somehow," He put his index finger to his lips in thought, "Maybe I'll teach him about the importance of respect? Or lecture him on the dangers of pyrotechnics in small spaces?" David went on. Though this is probably meant as a learning punishment, knowing max this is going to be more like torture. He won't be able to last 10 minutes alone with David in the middle on the lake, let alone 5 hours. Realizing you got lost in thought you snap back and notice David is still rambling on and on about topics for the canoe ride.
"David," You tried interrupting him
"I think he could benefit from an optimistic standpoint for once." David tapped his finger to his lips.
"David," You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.
"Or maybe i should explain to him what socialism is? That might help get my point across?" He looked confused with himself.
"David!" You yelled out of frustration, "Just shut up!" David's face flushed red.
"I'm sorry," He rubbed the back of his neck and turned his gaze towards the floor. "I guess I can be kind of a chatter box sometimes." He laughed nervously, tapping his foot. "Why don't you stay in my cabin? Y'know, until Quartermaster can fix you up a new one."
"I can just crash with Gwen, It's fine." You were surprised by his offer. You had never been too nice to him in the past, you would even go as far to say you had been pretty bitter towards him.
"Oh! I didn't think of that, sorry." He stumbled over his words. He actually looked kind of disappointed. He headed towards the doors leading out and pushed one open. He looked back at you, "If you ever need anything, know that I'm here to help." He flashed one of his signature happy-go-lucky grins and disappeared through the doors. You sink back down onto a bench, exhaling deeply, you groan rubbing your temples.
"Fuck."