When I woke up the next morning, Sara was already gone. I couldn't say I was surprised; she'd made it very clear the night before that she didn't want anything to do with me. Still, a part of me felt...something. Was it disappointment? That couldn't be it. Why would I be disappointed that that bitch decided to relieve me of the misery I would have no doubt faced having to room with her?

It was probably less my head and more my...other parts that wanted Sara to stick around for just a little while longer. I took comfort in the fact that I'd probably be able to watch her from afar without having to deal with her every day. Starting something with her would probably be more trouble than it was worth.

I got out of bed, threw on some clothes (I'd pretty much only packed t-shirts and jeans. It's not like I was looking to impress), and walked to the orientation hall. I saw Sara, seated near the front, pen and paper in her lap, ready and eager to take notes. I shook my head and took a seat near the back as far away from everyone else (especially her) as possible.

"Welcome, campers!" a man said from the front of the room. "This is Exodus, and I'm Joe, your head counselor. I'd like to say first and foremost: this is a safe place. I'm sure that you've all heard the horror stories of these camps, but I can assure you that nothing will happen to you here. See, we understand that this is an affliction, a problem that has a solution. We know...because we've all been there just like you guys. Look at the counselors around you. Look at me. We've all recovered from the same thing that you all are currently battling. We've all gone on to live normal lives, free of the thoughts that once plagued us. In fact, many of us are married with children!

"We know that the key to helping you change isn't angrily screaming at you or hitting you. We just need to give you the tools to help yourselves. I'm sure some of you are convinced that you aren't really gay. That you were just trying out something new. Others of you might think that you're fine the way you are, and that's okay. Lots of people like to ignore or accept the worst part of themselves, because it seems easier than facing it head on and fixing it. I can assure you that all that does is cause you pain. Don't hurt yourselves; help yourselves!"

Listening to this guy and the other counselors talk was like listening to a walking brochure. Safe place. No judgment. Help us help you! I sighed and felt myself looking at the front row. Sara was writing in her lap, no doubt taking notes and smiling at the thought of her future recovery. Maybe she'd end up working here like these saps.

The thought made me oddly sad, but I shook it off.

"Remember, though, that you won't be in this alone. In addition to me and the many other counselors around camp, you'll have each other. You all want, or will want, eventually, to get better, and you all should want to help each other do the same. That's why your cabin mate will now be your new best friend! You'll form a partnership of understanding and support. You'll go through all of your therapy, as well as many of the fun activities that we've got set up, together. You'll help each other stay strong when you're feeling weak, and I'm sure that you'll come away with a life-long friend."

I rolled my eyes. That was just about the most counter-productive plan I'd ever heard. Of course, it really didn't matter to me. All I could think was how glad I was that Sara was getting a bunk transfer. Maybe I'd end up with someone more like me...someone who knew this was all bullshit and didn't think that if you just wished really hard, God would take the "bad thoughts" away.

Maybe I'd end up with someone that was willing to fool around a little. It would at least take my mind off of things...and it's not like I was saving it anymore anyways.

I had to let go of that. Bigger things were happening than my girlfriend dumping me after my first time.

I tuned back into orientation.

"Breakfast is from 8 to 9, followed by prayer and reflection in the chapel. On Mondays and Wednesdays, we have group therapy after that, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have Arts and Crafts for the girls and organized sports for the boys."

I was starting to get a headache from the amount of eye-rolling I was doing.

"After that is lunch, followed by free time. Once a week, during this time, you'll have individual evaluations with an assigned camp counselor, and we'll have some other fun things planned for some of those days and on the weekends. The time and day schedule for each of your individual meetings will be posted by the end of the day, and this whole schedule stars up tomorrow.

"For the rest of today, though, I want you to get to know each other. Really talk, because you'll be seeing a lot of everyone around you for quite a while. I especially want you to get to know your cabin mates, and form a bond that isn't based on perversion, but on trust. I wish you all the best of luck, and I'll see you guys around!"

With a wave, he left the stage, and several people (mostly the other counselors) clapped.

I spent part of my day desperately trying to avoid everyone, hoping that nobody would even bother approaching me to talk. When that only seemed to attract the attention of the counselors, I decided to try to mingle a little more.

I hated doing this. Small talk had never been my forte, but it was especially difficult with these people. Most of them were extremely bitter that they had to be here, not even thinking of the fact that most of the other people there were going through the exact same thing they were going through. It was like everyone was against them, including the other kids, and they weren't interested in making friends.

Other kids were nicer, but for the most part, they were the types that were trying to talk themselves into thinking this could actually work. Not like Sara had been...she seemed to really believe that this stuff would help. No, these people would repeat all of the slogans and say all of the prayers, knowing that it wouldn't do anything, but really hoping that it would.

Speaking of Sara, I hadn't seen her since orientation. I couldn't help but look for her amongst the small group of campers and counselors. How the hell had she gotten out of this stupid meet-and-greet? She was probably busy moving all of her stuff out of the cabin. Knowing that bitch, she was actually making them move me into some shitty cabin on the edge of the campground.

I started to walk back to my cabin, bored with talking, and wondering if Sara would be moving her things, when Heather walked over to me.

"Where are you off to?" she said, bounce in her step as she approached me. "There are still plenty of people to meet!"

I took a deep breath. I tried to focus on the fact that I could have ended up somewhere much worse, but looking in Heather's grinning face was already starting to make me lose it.

"I'm looking for my bunk mate," I said. "She's been gone for a while. I think she might have said something about not feeling well and going back to the cabin."

"Oh, okay," she said. "Do you want me to go with you?"

I shook my head. "I think I can manage, thanks."

"Are you sure? If she's sick, she'll need one of us to get her to the first aid tent."

I shook my head. "I don't think it's anything that serious." I just wanted her to leave me alone. If Sara was already gone, I was hoping I could just hide out in my room for the rest of the night. The less time I had to spend with everyone, the better.

She finally seemed to take the hint. "Okay, but grab me if you need any help!"

I just walked away without responding. My patience for dealing with people was just about gone for the day.

When I got back to the cabin, Sara was sitting at the desk again.

"I thought you'd be gone," I said. "Or at least packing."

She was silent for a moment before speaking quietly, not turning around. "They didn't grant my transfer."

I groaned. "Seriously? Why not?"

"They said that I was exactly what you needed," she said, speaking up a bit. "Since you don't think you have a problem, and since I'm determined to change, they said that I could help you through this journey. They said that in helping you, I would help myself."

She was still facing away from me, flicking through the pages of a book.

A bible.

Of course.

"Well, I wouldn't recommend that you waste your time trying to 'help' me," I said, sitting down on my bed. I really didn't want to spend the rest of this time with her. I was already thinking about her way too much...it wasn't normal to think this much about someone that you didn't like from nearly the moment you met them.

"I wasn't planning on it," she said. "This can't be God's plan for me."

I wasn't usually this outspoken against religious types. I'd always faked being one of them for the sake of my parents, so I knew that a lot of them were good people that just believed...all that. Sara, though...I just couldn't let it go with her.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe God planned for us to meet. Maybe I'm your grand mission."

"Stop it," she said, still flipping pages. Still not bothering to look at me. I pushed harder.

"Then again, maybe I'm a test. Maybe I'm here to make you get so fed up that you want to quit the program and go on with your life of sin."

"Shut up, Tegan." She flipped through a few more pages. She wasn't even reading anything. She was just ignoring me.

"Or maybe I'm here to tempt you," I said, standing up and getting closer to her. "Maybe the devil sent me here to break you and get you to touch your-"

"I said shut up!" she yelled, finally getting to her feet and facing me. Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying...for a while.

"Sara, I-"

"No, stop talking," she said. "You're not here to get better. You're right that trying to help you would be a waste of time. You don't want to be fixed. I do. I want to be the way God intended. I want Him to love me again. I want..." she stopped for a second. I could see her trying to keep more tears from falling. "I want my mother and father to love me again. I want them to not have to be disgusted by me anymore."

"That's their problem, not yours," I said. Suddenly, I wanted Sara to know there wasn't anything wrong with her.

"You're not helping!" She wasn't so close that I felt the need to take a step back, but she was just inside of my personal bubble. "You're making this so much harder for me. I just want to get better. My parents and I...we've tried everything we can think of. They won't be able to put up with me for much longer."

"I..." I wanted to keep telling her that this was all wrong and she didn't need to change, but just looking at her...just getting a quick picture of her parents from her outburst, I knew that she wouldn't hear it. I knew I'd just end up hurting her more. "Look, if you need a...partner through this, I can be that for you. I don't want to make this any harder for you than it already will be."

She eyed me up and down, and I had to concentrate to keep myself from breathing a little heavier.

"You're lying," she finally said.

"I'm not," I said back. "I promise."

She looked me over a couple more times before taking a step back, and all of the muscles in my body relaxed just a bit.

"Thank you," she said, a tear sliding down her cheek. Without thinking, I went to wipe it away. I don't even know why I did it. It's not something I did often...or ever. I just felt bad for her. She really thought there was something wrong with her. Her parents clearly played a part in her thinking that. I just wanted her to feel better...to know that there was someone that didn't think she was corrupted.

It was in that moment that I realized that I hadn't thought about Lindsey nearly as much that day...because I'd been too busy thinking about Sara.

I didn't really have a chance to think about what that meant. The second my thumb touched her skin, she slapped my hand away, like she had the night before when I'd touched her arm. It bothered me a lot more this time.

"What the hell?" I asked, a little pissed off. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she said. "You don't think I know your type?"

"My type?" I asked with a bitter laugh. "What the fuck is my type?"

"All you want to do is violate me," she spat out. "Sweet talk me into your bed and leave me like the dozens of other girls that came before me."

I narrowed my eyes at her. She was completely wrong...except for the part about me wanting her in my bed. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough."

That did it.

"You know what? You're right. I thought I'd do you the favor of being another notch on my headboard, but now I know you're not even worth the time. To think that for a second I felt sorry for you."

So I lied. I wasn't about to let her know what had really happened.

Her fists balled at her sides. "I believe you were saying that we'll be fine as long as we stay out of each other's way, isn't that right?"

I wanted to keep fighting. I wanted to tell her off or scream that that's not what I'd said at all or hit her or...something, but I knew it wouldn't help, so I just said, "Right."

She sat down again, going back to flipping through the pages of her bible, occasionally stopping to take a note.

I left the room, changed and got ready for bed, and tried to listen to music.

Sara flipping through her bible kept distracting me out of the corner of my eye. Even when I closed my eyes, I knew she was sitting there, flipping through the pages. It finally started to get dark, and I decided to just go to sleep...except I couldn't, because I could still hear the pages of Sara's bible...the scratching of her pencil while she took her stupid notes.

I wanted to grab the book and throw it as far as I could into the middle of the trees. Better yet, into the middle of the lake. I wanted to flip through every one of those pages and rip them out one by one in front of her and tell her that everything she'd ever been told her whole life was a lie.

I'd never quite hated anyone the way that I hated Sara Miller.