We'd assumed that lunch and free time would be easier, but the counselors wouldn't let us be on our own. At first, I'd tried to make small talk with a few of the other kids, but that got depressing fast, so I went back to my cabin. Sara walked in not a minute behind me. We looked at each other, but didn't say anything as I laid down and read, and she sat at the desk and looked at the stupid bible.

Day two was just about the same, except instead of being forced to talk about our most intimate thoughts, we were being forced into gluing and painting shit. We were put in pairs by cabin number.

And once again, Sara and I find ourselves paired off.

"Remember, ladies," the counselor at the front of the room said. "This isn't just about making beautiful things, it's about finding yourselves. It's about getting in touch with a side of yourselves that you haven't been able to access. It's about working together constructively with your partner to make art."

"Are you serious with this shit?" I mumbled, and Sara elbowed me. "What? It's like they're trying to make us gayer."

"You promised," she said lowly, and I groaned quietly, but I didn't say anything else. Today we were "allowed" to make anything that we wanted, so I turned to Sara.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"Work alone," she said, turning away from me.

"Yeah, I get that, but in about ten seconds, if we don't look like we're working together, someone is going to come over here and bitch us out for not bonding."

Sara grabbed a couple of supplies, then turned towards me.

"Just make something, and I'll make something, and we'll say we helped each other."

"Whatever," I said, grabbing a glue gun and some Styrofoam.

The whole next two weeks were much the same: Sara and I trying to stay apart, but being put together. Sara and I trying not to talk, but having the counselors force us into conversations with each other. Me trying to avoid conflict with Sara, and Sara seemingly seeking it out.

I tried to make the best of things; since I was forced to talk to Sara, I tried to do so as little as possible in the most matter-of-fact way that I could manage. Sara...she took a dig whenever she could. It was like she was punishing me for the camp making us be together.

Or maybe this all had a lot more to do with the fact that Sara could barely keep her eyes off of me when she didn't think I was looking...whatever. I wasn't in the business of trying to figure out the ultra-repressed.

We'd always escape to the cabin as soon as we possibly could. It was about the only thing that we both agreed on. At least there, no one was breathing down our necks. Still, we didn't speak to each other unless it was absolutely necessary, and it was starting to drive me crazy. My parents called from time to time, but I never said much. I'd been too embarrassed to tell any of my friends where I was or what had happened, and my parents had been too ashamed to tell any of the family. I didn't have anyone to talk to, and I didn't think I could go much longer without exploding.

"What notes do you take?" I asked Sara on the second Saturday. It had been another day of her at the desk and me on my bed silently, and I'd had enough.

"You're breaking the rule," she said without looking up.

"It's the weekend. The rules don't apply on the weekend."

"Mine do," she said, then added quietly, "Especially the ones concerning you."

"You can't be a bitch to me forever. Besides, this whole avoiding each other thing obviously isn't working out. We need to find a solution."

"I've already found one," she said. "The silence in here is working just fine."

"Oh, really? You think that's the best way for you to de-gay yourself? What's the point of being here if you're just going to hide away in the cabin, not talking to anyone? Couldn't you have done that at home?"

She stopped writing and looked up from her book.

"You have a point," she said after a second. "I'm letting you distract me from why I'm supposed to be here."

"So we can't keep not talking to each other. You getting to know me is part of your therapy."

She looked thoughtful for a second, but her eyes got angry in a flash.

"Is this your new plan?" she said. "Make me trust that you're going to help me now so you can talk me into fucking you later?"

"I didn't think you swore," I said, hoping that my voice didn't crack. Even hearing her swear was a turn on.

"I don't, often," she said. "And that's not the point."

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, don't flatter yourself. You're not the hottest piece of ass I've ever laid eyes on." She was. She didn't need to know that. "Second of all, even if this was all some plan to sleep with you, it's not like you really have any other option. Either cooperate with me, or just be yourself and date girls. Either way is fine."

Sara looked at me. It made me so nervous when she did that. She was so intense when she looked at me...like she was trying to figure me out, and she had a lead. The worst part of it all, though, was that I didn't want her to look away. As uncomfortable as I felt, something in me liked the way she looked at me...like she wanted to take me apart.

She finally said, "What exactly would we have to do?"

"I don't know, totally," I said. "Probably talk in therapy. Hang out at mealtimes. Talk a bit in the cabin-"

"Why do we have to talk in the cabin?" she asked. "There's no one to see us in here."

I looked at her, dumbfounded. "How can you not be sick of the silence? How can you go a week without talking to anyone outside of group?"

"I talk to God," she answered. "I pray to him all the time."

"But that's not a conversation, Sara."

"It's enough."

I shook my head. "No, it really isn't. You need a living, breathing someone to talk to. That's why we have to talk in the cabin."

Sara closed her eyes in frustration, but eventually gave in.

"Fine, if you insist. But I don't have to answer any questions that I don't want to."

"This isn't group," I said. "I don't give a shit what you say. You just occasionally have to talk and listen. I'm going crazy just dazing off on my own all the time."

Sara smiled a little bit, and I could feel my own smile spring onto my face.

"I'm going for a walk," she said. After getting ready, she added, "You can come if you want."

"Yeah, sure," I said. I got myself ready and followed her out the door.

I found myself wanting to hold her hand, but I pushed it off.

Sara took the lead for a few steps for the first part of the walk before finally letting me catch up. We walked in silence around the lake, watching a few other campers and counselors talking or running around, or at least, Sara was doing that. I was pretending to do that while sneaking glances at her. Right before I was about to break the silence, Sara beat me to it.

"How did your parents find out?" she asked me.

The question caught me off guard, but I didn't mind answering."They caught me with a girl. Not during, the next morning, but we were naked and cuddling, so it was pretty obvious what had happened."

"Had they ever caught you with any of the other girls?"

"I didn't bring any other girls around." I looked at the ground. "Just her."

"What made her so special?" Sara asked. "She must have been if she was the only one you let stay at your house overnight...cuddling, no less."

Normally, I probably would have turned this into a chance to flirt...ask her if she was jealous...maybe lay it on thick (if I was feeling particularly bold) and tell her she could be that special to me. At the very least, I would tell her off for assuming I was the town slut just because I didn't hate myself like she did. I couldn't, though. All her questions just reminded me of Lindsey ditching me and how pathetic my life had become.

"We weren't that serious," I finally said.

"But-"

"My parents were supposed to be out of town," I said, sharply. "That's all."

She nodded, and we dropped back into silence for a minute more. I felt guilty. The one time that she was actually trying to talk to me, and I act like a bitch.

"How about you?" I asked, making an attempt to get the ball rolling again. "How did your parents find out?"

I saw her tense up, but she said, "I kissed one of my friends in my room when I was eleven. My father walked in on us. He grabbed me and he...he was rougher than he meant to be. He and my mother have been trying to help me ever since, but I haven't had much success."

"I'm sorry," I immediately said, ignoring the part of me that wanted to lay a hand on her shoulder. Touching her hadn't worked out so well for me so far...

"It's fine," she said back. "That's what this camp is for."

"I meant for your dad," I said. "He sounds like an asshole."

Sara shook her head. "His reaction was fair, considering."

"I doubt it," I said. "It's not like he caught you with your fingers inside a girl."

"Tegan, please don't be so crude." The blush was back on Sara's face, and part of me wanted to push it, until she was back in my face, yelling at me to stop getting in her way...

What the fuck was it about this girl that made me want to make her mad? I'd never really been an instigator before. Sure, I mouthed off, but it wasn't just to piss people off. I just couldn't help it with her.

"I'm sorry...again. I can't stop words from coming out of my mouth sometimes."

"It's fine," she answered. "I'm not usually...I'm not a mean person. I don't usually snap at people like this. Like I do with you. I think it's my nerves. I really want to recover."

I sighed and wished once again that telling her she was beautiful and just fine the way she was would do anything but make her withdraw from me again. Instead, I just nodded and kept walking. We both did a few laps around the lake, making small talk as we went. Nothing much deeper than the surface. I told her about my parents, and she told me a little bit about hers and her little sister.

I decided not to question the darkness that came over her eyes when she talked about her family. That was too much for now.

The more we talked, the more I liked her. Sure, she was still a little bit of a bitch, and more than a little uptight, but she was also really funny and smart. I wished that we'd been able to meet somewhere else. Pretty much anywhere else. I wished we both didn't have the fucked-up parents that we did and that we could have just been able to be friends (or more, but I was really trying to keep thoughts like that out of my head. I'd JUST had things end with Lindsey, and I was already getting soft over a girl who was obsessed with straightening herself out. Bad news).

We finally made our way back to the cabin after lunch, and Sara sat down on her bed instead of at the desk, still grabbing for her bible. I went to sit at my own bed, planning on dropping into my normal routine, but at the last minute decided to sit next to her on hers. I kept my distance and hoped she wouldn't freak out. Her head snapped to me when I fully sat.

"Sorry," I said before she could say anything. "Would you mind it if we talked a little more?"

She looked at me for a second before smiling and setting her bible back on the desk. We made more small talk...I knew it wouldn't be more, but it was a start. We talked about nothing until the early hours of the morning, and neither of us could keep our eyes open.

I hadn't wanted to make the trip back to my own bed. Sara had fallen asleep before me, and it would have been so easy to just lay beside her. I knew, though, that if she woke up and I was still there, it would reset the (pretty impressive) progress that we'd made through the day.

I dragged myself out of her bed and into my own. I barely had the covers pulled over myself before I fell asleep.