**only third person for the prelude

She never forgot to pass his cabin on her short walks to and from the dining hall.

At first, nobody believed there was a single camper inside the oldest cabin. She had taken it upon herself with full curiosity to explore the worn-down building, running around the exterior in search for peeking places. When she noticed the half closed vintage curtains, she took the opportunity to stick her face right in between.

There he was—sitting. Every single day he was in the same pose, cradling his legs close to his chest as if he didn't want to take up any space. She always thought he'd move around until the next day came, but he was still there. He didn't take in the perks of having a cabin to yourself with no annoying cabin mates.

She watched him everyday, being careful so he won't notice. Until she fell right onto floor.

The window was open and she hadn't realized. The girl had fallen onto the bug-eaten wooden floor, sprawled in all fours in the eyes of mystery boy.

"Curious enough to think there's glass to hold your weight." The girl looked up to meet the staring eyes of the boy who wouldn't move. He was incredibly cute for a freshman, but the way his face mirrored miserableness as she stared, she thought otherwise.

"I just wanted to check on you. . ." Her words dragged off into nothing as she picked for words on what to say. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the encounter, her chest loosening breath.

"Next time I'll let you in if you ask," his words shocked her and she had thought he was kidding, "Wipe that look off your face—I'm serious. I'm Callum by the way."

From that day on, Callum let her in like he had said. Together they sat in the dark, eating stolen food from the cafeteria (screw the eating rules), both only making efforts to talk when they feel like it.

It went like that for the rest of the summer. They were friends— both bad kids unable to fit in the good world. She was ecstatic about seeing him again the next year.

But he wasn't there.