Sunrise paints the sky in shades of red and gold.

I watch the light-spangled water of the lagoon sluggishly flow past while I enjoy disgusting coffee with my friends.

The moment it wasn't dark anymore, many of the guys packed up and went home to prepare for the dream launching ceremony. A few others are still trying to find their possessions and most of their dignity in the bushes and along the beach.

Lance, Reuben, Elliot, and a couple of other boys their age bonded really well last night and are fishing where the lagoon and the river meet. The same river I had an unplanned swim in yesterday.

We're still not on speaking terms. I hear it gurgle, but I will not answer its call.

From where my friends and I are sitting on a sand dune above the waterline of the lagoon, we can see the kids running around, laughing. It's awesome to see them being idiots together, and I'm feeling nostalgic for the time - long gone now - when it was me and my mates doing that. When was the last time we acted like children?

Oh, right! Five minutes ago.

The boys are highly optimistic. I give them full marks for enthusiasm, but nobody I know has ever successfully caught any fish using only reeds and dirty marshmallows that fell in the sand during our s'more creation. The boys are steadfastly trying, though.

They are having a blast.

All the younger kids passed out sometime after midnight, even Lance, Elliot and Reuben, but only after giggling in my tent for almost an hour. I'm completely baffled by the things that amuse them, but then I remember that it amused me too when I was their age. How the world changes as we grow up.

Woah! This coffee is so bad it's turning me into a sentimental old man!

We didn't sleep much. I might've dozed off once or twice for a few minutes, but we mostly lay on our sleeping bags under the stars, fighting mosquitoes and talking about everything and nothing at all. My friends and I often do that, but being here as part of the larger group is special. It was fun to catch up with guys from the other towns I don't often get to see.

Now, it's over, and part of me wants to hurry home so I can be with Kira. The rest of me just wants to sit here, lamenting the lack of milk and sugar while I enjoy being with the boys who have been part of my life for most of it.

Simon is the only newbie in my immediate circle and held his own really well last night. He is still standing tall this morning; at least he was; he is now running around in the shallow water with a somewhat manic grin on his face and sporting the most brilliant shiner.

I know Delia will tear into me about that, but Sy is not a baby. He is an 18-year-old young man on his way to becoming an adult. He knew exactly what he was getting into when someone made the brilliantly moronic suggestion to have our own version of paintball using sticks to fling clumps of mud at each other among the trees... in the dark.

No, it wasn't my suggestion this time. Surprisingly, it also wasn't Jet or Lurch's suggestion. It was Luthor - the petrol station guy - who came up with the awesome plan.

It seemed like a good idea for the first few minutes, but after Sy ran into a branch, nearly knocking himself out, and two other guys tripped over roots and got all scraped up, we decided to have the mud fight on the beach instead. The lagoon side of the beach has less sand and more sling-worthy mud, reminding us of its aspirations to become an actual river when it grows up.

It was crazy fun, and the injuries were all limited to scrapes, bruises, and some mild cases of sand-in-the-eye, which is always good.

This weekend, I saw Simon come alive in leaps and bounds. First on the yacht, where he found his calling to be a pirate and then out here in the wilderness, where he was a savage with the rest of the Summerfields boys. He is now well and truly initiated into our tribe.

When I first met him a few months ago, he was quiet and seemed aloof. For the life of me, I could not figure out what someone that stiff could possibly have in common with my sister. After a day or two of him hanging out at our house with Deli, I started seeing what she saw in him.

No, not his soulful pine-green eyes and gentle smile (her words). I saw his sense of humour, his sharp wit and his backbone. I almost got smacked in the head with that backbone the day I tested his determination to date my sister.

Sy is a good guy, and I'm happy that at least he has no plans to leave Summerfields next year. He is going to study Computer Science at Silverview University.

It's going to be awesome!

"So, you broke up with Yvette on Thursday," Jet asks his cousin. They are sitting a little further down the slope, near my feet. Their plastic mugs are already empty and abandoned behind them for now. "Does that mean you're back together again now?"

That would be pretty standard for Archer and Yvette; their breakups never last longer than two days. Their record is 48.32 hours. Yeah, they timed it.

"No," Archer surprises us. "Our parents are always nagging at us about being in high school and how we need to branch out and experience other things and people before settling down," he sighs, shaking his unbrushed, sun-streaked hair from his eyes.

Jet and Archer's looks resemble each other in many ways, but they are two very different characters. Where Jet is always one step South of being decent, Archer is demure and soft-spoken... except when he's dealing with his unruly cousin.

"So, we decided to experience being young and single for the last few months of high school," he continues with a shrug. "This way, they can all get off our backs, and we can tell them we're not missing out on anything."

It seems risky to me.

What if Yvette likes experiencing some other guy, and Archer gets stuck being young and single forever... well, until he's old? 

I know for a fact that he really loves Yvette. I don't think he is all that on board with this stupid plan. Maybe Yvette talked him into it. That would not be a good sign for their relationship.

I've experienced the young and single thing on and off for most of my life. I know what I want, and anybody who gets on Kira and my case about being too committed to each other in high school can experience my young and single middle finger salute.

"So, can I have her?" Jet asks, as everybody on this planet knew he would, except, apparently, Archer, who gives him a reflexive punch in the side, showing just how happy he is about this break-up plan.

"No! What the hell?!" he bellows, sounding really alarmed.

"I'll give her back to you at the end of the year when you're done being idiots," Jet explains as if he is saying something reasonable. "I promise."

"What?! What part of young and single didn't you understand?"

"Oh, I'm pretty much always young and single," Jet assures him. "I can teach her all about it and about trying out other people," he laughs, completely unfazed that his cousin has his arm around his neck and is trying to wrestle him to the ground. "She'll be in good hands. Literally. You know I'm a pretty hands-on guy."

"Seriously, shut up!" Archer grumbles, tumbling with him, and now they're a sandy pretzel, slowly sliding down the incline.

"No, think about it! It's a beautiful pla... Ow!"

I'm not sure what Archer is trying to do - he seems to want to remove some of Jet's limbs - but I know what Jet is trying to do. He will never really make a move on Yvette, but he also thinks his cousin will end up heartbroken if they keep this up. 

He really cares about the guy.

"Barn! Help!" he screams, rolling down the sandy embankment with Archer, heading to the edge of the lazy water. They are going to bowl Simon over, and he is obliviously doing some kind of sun-worshipping ceremony, unaware of the looming danger rolling closer. 

He is standing with his arms thrown wide, staring out at sea. No, he's probably not worshipping the sun; he's estimating the size of the boat he'll need for all that pirating he plans to do.

"No way! You brought this one on yourself," Barn laughs, sticking his mug in the sand.

Yup, there topples my brother-in-law, looking as surprised as someone woken from a long, deep sleep. Soon, both the brawlers and Simon call Lurch to save them, and when he gets to his feet to run down to help or hinder, Barn takes off after him.

I can hear my name and Burlap's being called too, but I've helped out in enough brawls for one weekend. I have the bruises to prove it, and my stitches are not happy with me.

I think Burlap is over the fun now.

Last night, he messed around with us, but every now and then, I would see him just sitting and staring... even more than usual. I know he often needs quiet, alone time, but not usually in the middle of a camping trip or event. He is all in when he hangs out with us unless we do stupid things. Then, he is all in with lecturing us for being fools.

I've been dying for a chance to really talk to him without anybody hijacking the conversation and steering it into the world of the weird and wonderful. The guy has been seriously down since the whole Wendy incident. It was upsetting, but she's getting her stuff back, and she's not badly injured.

All in all, things worked out well for her, and we will make better plans to keep her safe from now on since Franklin is clearly out of control. I don't know why Burlap seems so utterly beaten and stressed.

He is sitting quietly now, bravely drinking his coffee, wincing at every awful sip. Pouring out the last bit of dregs from my mug, I plant it in the sand and lay my arm across Burlap's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Talk to me," I say. Usually, that is all I have to do for him to open the floodgates and spill what's bothering him. If he doesn't, it's generally because he's daydreaming about some book he read that's got him thinking about life before electricity. In that case, I just let him dream... or tell me weird stuff about it.

"Why don't you ever ask me to stay and not go to the UK next year?" he asks, sounding slightly bitter.

That was unexpected!

I was sure he would say something about Wendy and how we need to hunt for Franklin before he comes back and does anything worse. That is definitely something lying heavily on all our hearts.

"I would stay if you asked me to," he says, turning his head to look at me when I move away to be able to see his face.

"What? I would never do that to you."

"You're supposed to!" he exclaims, flinging out the rest of his coffee and dropping his mug in the sand.

"I am?" What weird movie did I just stumble into now? Burlap is the most level-headed person I know; I'm not sure what he's doing now. "Don't girlfriends normally do that in movies?"

"Best friends can do it too," he assures me, and his eyes are filled with such sadness that I'm choking up. "Even if they're not in a movie."

"They can?" I ask, still not sure I understand this conversation. "Shouldn't they selflessly stand back and let their friends fulfil their dreams, even if it takes them far away from them?"

"Only if they're sure it's their dreams," Burlap agrees. "Best friends are supposed to know."

"Yeah, you're right... I'm sorry." I really am, but I'm not quite sure for what. Burlap never accuses me of not being a good friend. "Your dream is to be a neurologist, and you got into a good university in London to achieve that dream... Am I wrong?"

"I want to be a neurologist," he agrees, and I'm relieved that I might understand the movie a little bit after all. "Definitely."

"Soooo..."

"Dammit, Ethan!" he snaps, making me jump. "Just ask me to stay here!"

I blink my eyes in confusion, and I would pinch myself to see if I'm awake, but my irritated stitches make that pretty clear. Normally, Burlap is the one talking me off the ledge, stopping me from spiralling into weirdness and having a meltdown.

This is too bizarre. I'm completely out of my depth!

"Please stay," I say, and I really mean that with all my heart. I want him to stay.

"Okay."

"No! Come on, Burlap!" I exclaim, really alarmed now. "Tell me what's going on in your head! It's like you have too many apps running simultaneously, your browser has seven tabs open, and you're listening to music on your earphones."

Burlap is excellent at multi-tasking, but he needs to focus on just one thing right now.

"You were falling around since last year, not sure where you wanted to go and what you wanted to do, aside from neurology and then you made up your mind. You told me clearly: 'Ethe, I'm going to London to study at UCL, just like my parents did,'" I say, trying out the faint British accent that all the girls say makes Burlap sound sexy. I just sound Russian for some reason... though that is probably sexy too.

"You were sure. You were decided. You said you needed to get in touch with your roots."

"I never said I wanted to go," he sighs, looking miserable again.

I shove a hand through my hair, frowning, thinking hard about it, and yeah, I cannot remember him specifically using the word want.

"I thought you missed the UK. You always come back from your yearly trip all excited, telling fun stories and showing me weird stuff you bought for me, the others, and yourself."

"I only go for three weeks," he reminds me. "I sometimes get nostalgic for the years before I came here, but when I'm there, I just... I miss you for the whole three weeks and cannot wait to come home."

"Really?" I'm surprised to hear that. Burlap is really good at playing things cool. We text and call each other often while he's away, but I thought it was mostly for my sake.

"Don't you miss me?" he asks, looking disappointed, completely frying my brain.

"I'm dating Kira now, so..."

"Don't be an ass," he growls, flicking my ear, reminding me that he spends many, many, many hours with me and my sister; he knows all the tricks she uses on me.

"Fine! Yeah, I miss you too!" I admit, though I'm pretty sure he already knew that. "When you're gone, I ride my bike over to your house to show you stuff or talk to you, and then I get to your gate and remember that you're gone, so I end up hanging out with Wendy because she's always at your place, moping."

Burlap's lips curl in a pleased grin. Does he really not get how important he is to me... to all of us?

"If you go away for months or years on end, we'll be doing a lot of moping in your house," I complain. "I have a girlfriend now; I can't just mope with Wendy all the time, but I know I will. Seriously, dude, the day you and Kira came into my life changed it for the better. I got my best friend and the woman I want to marry on the same day. That is soooooooo friggin' awesome."

Burlap is smiling now, and his eyes look almost normal.

"Look, if you wanted to study in the UK and went, it would make no difference to who we are. You and me, I mean," I clarify. "Cellphones and internet communications could die. A zombie apocalypse could happen, and we could lose contact for decades, but the moment we find each other, we would be right back where we are now... even if one of us is a zombie."

I'm disappointed to see his smile fall away to make place for a horrified look to take over his face.

"What?" I gasp.

"If there's going to be a zombie apocalypse, I really need to stay here with you," he tells me. "You will try to make friends with them, invite them for a barbecue, and turn your place into zombie central... Like you do almost every weekend."

"Burlap," I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Stop making me look forward to a zombie apocalypse."

He laughs, lowering his head to stare at the mug lying between his feet as if he wonders where it came from.

Hey," I say, squeezing his shoulder and nudging him to look at me again. "You are the most together person I know. If you say you don't want to go to the UK, you want to study at Silverview, and that is genuinely what you want to do, I'm behind that decision 100%. Hell, I'll be super happy if you stay. I hate the idea of you leaving. You need to be sure, though. We can figure it out; there's still time. I've got your back. I'll always have your back... even if I have to have it from 15,000 kilometres away."

Yikes! Thinking about my buddy being that far away makes me feel sick. I might cause a zombie apocalypse just to force him to stay.

"Besides, I agree, if there's a zombie apocalypse, I want you with me," I assure him. "It will be no fun without you."

"I highly doubt that zombie apocalypses are supposed to be fun," Burlap laughs, reaching out to tousle my hair, and I'm happy to see that he looks a lot more like himself now.

I think a zombie apocalypse just broke out further down the beach, where the lagoon and the river meet. Something is happening because the boys are yelling and laughing, excitedly running this way.

Alarmed, Burlap and I get to our feet and jog towards them, joined by the wet wrestlers stumbling out of the lagoon.

"We caught a fish! We caught a fish!" Lance shouts, carrying something on the tip of a long stick.

"Really! You caught a fish?!" Lurch exclaims in awe, and I'm as shocked as he is. We all assemble, eager to admire the boys' superior fishing abilities... and then we see the fish.

Lance and his buddies laugh happily about their joke, tossing the slimy fish towards us. Though it is soaked, caked with mud and covered in long strands of green gunk, it must've drifted through on its journey; I would recognise it anywhere.

"That's my shoe!"

♂♀