We've decided to go camping; just Dillon and I. But we've quickly realized how anticlimactic camping can be when the number of hooligans dwindles from five to two. As Dillon and I sit around our campfire alone, my thoughts drift to the rest of our group of friends and a cavity opens up inside me. They're off galavanting across the entire United States and I'm sitting here in the same boring town, in the same mundane campsite, without even a hint of adventure in my life.

I sigh, shaking off my self-pity and forcing myself to find beauty in the little things like I used to.

My eyes sweep upward where the sky has started to paint itself with a fusion of pastels. The sun is growing weary as it sinks lower into the horizon. Somehow, in its last dying efforts, it's managed to color the heavens with its brilliance.

Lynn is the sun. Even in her suffering, she radiates light. She offers something beautiful even as darkness threatens to devour her. 

Wish I was more like that. If I were the sun, I'd be greedily absorbing every last bit of light for myself until nothing but bleak darkness shadowed the world. Sometimes I feel like I died that day on the road and now I'm fighting to kill off all the joy around me in hopes that someone might understand my misery. If we're all miserable, I won't feel so alone. If we're all miserable, we can fight to help each other. 

Instead, I feel like I'm struggling to convey my devastation even though nobody understands what I'm going through. I hate to sound so pathetic and whiny in my own mind, but I can't control the dark thoughts from swimming around in my head.

"Where'd you go?" Dillon asks as he stokes the fire with a measly twig.

I pull my eyes away from the hint of sun setting between the trees and offer Dillon a lazy smile and a shrug.

Dillon stares me down warily, his eyes laughing at me even though his lips don't budge. "Your mind wandered away for a bit there," he tells me. "What were you thinking about?"

When I don't respond, Dillon takes a stab at guessing, "Lynn?"

"No." My sullen mood instantly shifts to one of confusion. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugs. "Just a vibe."

"A vibe?"

"I don't know," he says after a moment, leaning back and twirling the long, thin stick between his fingers. "You talk about her a lot, but you seem to be avoiding conversation of her tonight. Did something happen?"

I gaze at the flames dancing in front of me as they crackle and spit off sparks into the air. The wind is rather stagnant, causing a slight sheen to develop along my brow, but I'm hoping that as the sun dips lower into the sky, the heat will simmer down.

"Not really," I tell him, rubbing my left eye. "Just trying to come to terms with everything that's happened lately. I'm just confused is all."

"You like her?" Dillon asks, tossing the small stick into the brush beside us and leaning back so his elbows are perched on the log behind him.

I groan into the quiet. We're not too far out of town, but we're in a location that is off-limits to hunting. And since hunting is the favored hobby in these parts, this territory remains practically untouched. Though, due to the serenity around here, there's the occasional wild party that takes place in these parts because there's pretty much no limit to the level of noise and no threat of being caught. We got lucky tonight because it seems Dillon and I might be the only human souls out here.

"I'm not sure," I confess, squeezing the back of my neck with one hand and leaning back to support my weight with the other. "We hung out yesterday and it just seemed like I was seeing her for the first time." Dillon doesn't respond, so I continue. "I forgave her a long time ago, but it seems like my heart is just now catching up or something."

"Aw," Dillon coos, before he spits out a bout of laughter. "That was a bit mushy even for you," he tells me, humor prominent in his gaze. "Is she turning you soft?"

I laugh, throwing a pebble at his chest. "No," I deny and then take a deep breath before blowing it upward. It ruffles my hair and offers a temporary reprieve from the heat as it breezes passed my sweaty brow. "Maybe," I find myself admitting a second later, my voice quiet but firm.

"So you don't hate her anymore," Dillon says almost to himself as if in thought.

"I never hated her," I respond, scratching at my jawline. "I was pissed at her for leaving and I wanted her to feel my anger. It was wrong and regret it immensely, but I never hated her." A beat of time ticks by. "I could never."

"So you like her then?" It's a question, but Dillon words it as more of an observation.

"Naw." My fingers weave themselves into my new pink locks and my thoughts drift to the day before, recalling the sensation of Lynn's fingers in my hair. "Honestly, I don't know."

Dillon eyes me with a heavy scrutinizing gleam in his eye. "I think you do."

I don't look at him, my eyes suddenly way too enthralled by the swirling flames of the fire in front of me. What made us light up a fire in this stifling heat anyway? It's not even dark out yet so it's not as if we need it to see.

"What should I do?" I ask him, my focus not wavering from the orange and blue heat-bomb dancing in front of me.

"Would you like my wise answer or my real answer?"

I squint my eyes at Dillon before responding. "Give me both."

"Okay." He bends his knees, situating his elbows on them as he hunches over. "If you're being smart, you'd block out these new emotions and just enjoy these last few months as friends. You know you'll be leaving the moment you get your new prosthetic, so why bother investing so much energy into a relationship. Besides, she likes you. You wouldn't want to take advantage of those feelings simply because you're curious."

"What does it mean for me if I'm secretly hoping that that was your wise answer?"

"It says two things," Dillon tells me, his face serious. "One: it says you're lousy at keeping secrets, and two," he continues, wiggly his eyebrows at me playfully. "you most certainly do have your eye on the Thai."

I snort. "Has a nice ring to it."

Dillon chuckles and watches as I place a few more sticks into the fire.

"My real answer though," he says after a moment of silence and I glance up so he knows I'm listening. "My real answer would be to give her a call."

"Give her a call?"

Dillon nods. "Right here, right now. Call her."

To say I'm shocked by his words is to put it mildly. Dillon isn't the type to suggest taking chances, especially if another person's feelings are involved. He's considerate and sensitive to a fault. And yet, he's going against his own 'wise' advice and telling me to give it shot.

I take a deep breath, my eyes swinging toward the trees as I listen to the cicadas singing around us. There's a peace about being in nature. A calming aura that's in drastic contrast to the abrupt chaos taking place beneath my chest. With heavy hands, I drag my cellphone from my pocket, my eyes pleading with Dillon to take back his demand even as I punch her name into my contacts and hit 'call'.

Dillon smirks at me as I listen to the dial tone, pleading to God that she doesn't answer. It's a strange feeling. Being so hopeful and so distressed all at once. And then I hear her voice and my own suddenly abandons me.

I clear my throat quickly and plaster on a smile that I know she can't see.

"Hi," I greet, the word coming out far raspier than intended. "What you up to?"

"Oh, you know," she says cheerily. "Just hangin' with the girls while we gossip about Chris Hemsworth, paint our nails, and have epic feather-exploding pillow fights."

"I think I'm gonna need proof of the pillow fight part," I joke, though my thoughts are having a good time conjuring up the scene all on their own.

"You're such a disgusting pig," Lynn scolds, muttering "typical guy" under breath, but her laughter eats away at the seriousness she tries to convey with her words.

"Guess you're into disgusting, typical guys then," I boldly state, my nerves making me say stupid things.

The line goes quiet for several beats and then I can almost sense Lynn shrugging as she harrumphs and then mutters, "can't argue that."

"So," I say, my tone instantly shifting as I drop all humor. "What you up to for real?"

"Um..." she stalls a minute before mumbling a quick, "I already told you."

"No," I groan. "You were lying. Please tell me you were lying."

Lynn starts laughing at my sarcastic pleas. "Nope. I'm serious as a serial killer."

"That was dumb."

"You're dumb."

"Okay," I drawl. "Somebody forgot to put their big girl panties on today."

"Panties?" she questions. "What panties?"

I finally lose it, my laughter echoing against the trees as Dillon eyes me skeptically from the opposite side of the fire. It's the boredom on his face that finally reminds me why I called her in the first place.

"Anyway," I say. "How would you and the girls feel about joining Dillon and I for camping?"

"Oooo, yes!" she instantly responds, followed seconds later by, "I can't."

"Why?"

"Because my mom would never let me spend the night with guys."

"Then don't spend the night," I suggest. "Just come hang with us."

"What? You guys that eager for some female attention?" she goads.

"If I recall correctly, you were the one squealing with excitement by the idea of camping with us," I tell her. "Seems to me, you're the one who's eager."

"Gah!" she huffs. "Why are you always right?"

I then hear Lynn's voice in the distance as she chatters with her friends. The seconds tick by, and I start to wonder if she's forgotten that I'm still on the line. I shoot Dillon a confused glance, shrugging when he nudges his chin towards my phone and lifts his brows in question.

"I think she forgot—"

"Okay, we'll come," she says, her voice so loud in my ear that I have to yank the receiver away as I cringe at the intense volume.

"Jeez!" I moan, rubbing at my ear.

"Sorry," she hurries to say. "Anyway, my mom said to be home by midnight. Where you guys at?"

"I'll meet you at the Rec Park," I explain. "Then you can follow me from there."

We hang up, and twenty minutes later, Lynn and her two friends are following behind me as we drive the small roads leading to mine and Dillon's favorite camping spot. Parking in a dirt clearing off the side of the road, we hike the remaining distance until we see the flicker of the fire in the distance.

"Here we are," I announce, paying special attention to my footing so my prosthetic doesn't catch on any roots.

"Hi, ladies," Dillon hollers when he spots us through the trees. We would have both gone to pick up Lynn and her friends, but that would have meant snuffing out the fire and then rebuilding it when we got back. Not worth the effort.

"Hey," Lynn sings, Justine and Rosa echoing their greetings from somewhere behind Lynn. From the sounds of it, Justine is a good distance back. It's only just now starting to grow darker, but already, I can barely make out her silhouette within the trees.

Lynn and Rosa take their seats opposite from Dillon and I turn to the cooler, pulling out a couple drinks and passing them out.

"I hope you know that I blame you for this, Lynn," Justine's aggravated voice grumbles just as she emerges from the trees.

"What?" Lynn asks, turning around to watch her friend huff her way the remaining distance and then plop down beside Lynn before yanking her foot into the air and shoving it in Lynn's face. Lynn jerks back just as her eyes widen in disgust. Shoving her palm over her nose, she carefully places her hand on Justine's calf and shoves her appendage away.

"What is it?" Dillon asks, a grin edging its way onto his lips.

"We could have been home, painting our nails and gossiping about sexy male celebrities, but instead, I'm here, with poop covering my entire foot." Her words grow more aggressive the more she speaks, but there's something about her dramatic performance that has everyone holding back their laughter.

When a burst of laughter pierces the stiff air, Justine's hawk eyes narrow in on Lynn.

"Your fault," she growls, and then instantly perks up as she shifts her attention to Dillon and I. "Hi. How are you guys?" she asks cheerfully as she uses a twig to scrape poop out of the cracks on the underside of her shoe.

"Great," Dillon chuckles, watching her movements with brazen enjoyment. "I'm Dillon, by the way."

"Justine," she offers, her red-tinted lips lifting as her eyes roam his physique shamelessly. "Nice to meet you."

"Okay, gross," Lynn gags. "Enough of that." Her attention shifts to me. "Don't you have S'mores or something?"

I shake my head no.

"Hotdogs? Cheese Puffs?" Her eyes beg until I wonder if she's actually going to start crying. "Anything?"

"Dillon brought cigars if you're interested."

Her face blanches and her eyes dart in his direction. "Why?"

"Uh..." he shoots me a desperate look before glancing back at Lynn, his words slow and uncertain as he answers. "Because I like them?"

She puckers her lips in thought and then shrugs. "Okay. But seriously, no food?"

"Sorry," I shrug.

"For real?" Justine cuts in. "What, are you the type of guys who like the real outdoor experience? Like, you want to sleep on the ground and catch your food with your bare hands?"

"No, not really," Dillon answers. "We just ate before we came."

Lynn's attention has been focused on her friend, but when it becomes clear that there really isn't food, she drops back onto her elbows and stares into the fire. Her face is relaxed, the shadows from the dancing flames creating a game of hide and seek on her face, flickering to and fro before disappearing for brief moments.

I don't realize I'm staring until her eyes lift, steeling me in place with the fact that there's no way to hide my actions. Her expression sobers, her eyes penetrating me with unsaid questions. Rather than tear my gaze from hers in flustered panic, I simply smile. She hesitates a moment before returning my smile with one of her own, her shoulders drooping subtly. She's always been so good at hiding her emotions, but right now I can feel it. Disappointment.

"Gosh," Justine groans suddenly. "When are you two going to just get together already?"

I swear that even the cicadas stop breathing as they await our reaction to Justine's thoughtless question. Tension builds around us as wary eyes glance at each other before swinging between Lynn and me. Nobody dares to say a word as we wait for this moment to fade into the darkness.

"Well," Lynn suddenly speaks up, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "I've been trying to get him on team Lynn for ages, but he's just not ready for this ship to sail."

It's her laughter that breaks the tension, and just like that, the conversation is freed to move on. But my attention is still riveted to Lynn because, once again, she's saving someone from making themselves look like a complete and utter fool. From what I've seen, she hates awkwardness—which is strange considering that she's so awkward herself. But I've noticed that anytime a situation grows tense or embarrassing, she'll shift the topic so that she becomes the target. She'd rather suffer the humiliation than watch someone else suffer.

Conversation grows relaxed then and even Reserved Rosa pipes up on occasion. Lynn's friends are fun and I'm learning that Justine isn't nearly as intense as I'd first thought. Actually, she's pretty funny. It's her dry sarcasm that can be taken the wrong way, but after hours of listening to her talk, it's become clear that she means nothing by it. She kind in her own weird way.

"What do you all say we get out of here," I find myself saying.

I've having a good time, but I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep my focus off of Lynn. As much as selfish Jamie wants to just jump in and explore this creeping new attraction to Lynn, I can't help but hesitate. I've hurt her enough with my actions already. I'm not about to step foot into this new territory without absolute certainty as to how I feel for her.

So, rather than give her false hope by keeping my eyes glued to her beautiful blue-haired self, I find myself staring into the fire most of the evening until I just can't take it anymore.

"Where would we go?" Justine wonders aloud.

I shoot Dillon a look, mischief woven into the sly smile on my lips. "Ably?"

He instantly perks up. "Oh, yes!"

That's something about Dillon that most people don't know. He's reserved, calm, and mature, but the moment you mention breaking the law, he's all in. It's so strange, but I've never complained because I absolutely love it. It's also one reason we never let Dillon drive us anywhere. He's got a lead foot and never gets lucky when it comes to avoiding cops. He's already had his license suspended this year, which is obviously another reason as to why we don't let him drive... even though that alone wouldn't stop him.

"What's Ably?" Rosa asks, somehow beating the ever-so-curious Justine with the question.

Dillon's eyes grow wild with excitement as he turns to face the shy Chicana. "A haunted mansion." His face widens into a smile that's borderline creepy and I decide it's time to steal the attention away from him before he freaks out the ladies.

"We've been several times and it gets better every time," I explain. "We'd heard stories about the place and decided we needed to check it out for ourselves. Turns out," I say, my voice dropping to an eerie whisper, "the stories are true."

The three girls glance at each other, and I'm expecting at least one of them to chicken out, but when Rosa simply shrugs and says, "I'm in," I know there's no backing out.

"Me too," Justine agrees, standing and dusting dirt off her butt.

"No." Lynn's abrupt rejection to the idea comes as a surprise, especially with her love for horror movies. "We need food first."

Dillon laughs beside me and moves to stand as he kicks dirt into the diminishing flames. Since Dillon and I just ate not even an hour ago, we dismiss the girl's to go grab some fast food for themselves while he put out the fire. We make plans to meet at Wendy's—their choice in sustenance—in a half hour and then watch the three of them disappear into the trees.

Leaning back against the tree behind me, I sigh into the darkened sky. It's not going to take us thirty minutes to put out the fire, so I decide to enjoy the quiet for a few more minutes. Dillon successfully smothers the flames and then takes a seat opposite me from the smoke-blackened pile of wood.

"That girl's got it bad," Dillon mutters softly.

For a minute, I wonder if he's talking about Justine. The two of them hit it off real well. Uncomfortably well. They practically flirted the entire hour and I swear, I've never seen Dillon look so smitten in my lift. It's scary.

"Who?"

His mouth turns upward in a sly grin but his eyes remain focused on the wisps of smoke swirling between us. "Lynn." He shakes his head side-to-side. "Dude, that girl..." his words drift off and he raises serious eyes to meet mine. "She loves you, man."

"What?" My head rears back at the very thought of Lynn loving me. Sure, she'd confessed to having feelings for me in some letters from her childhood, but there's no way those feelings were real and there's even less of a chance that they still exist. Heck, I ignored the girl for the first half of the year and then treated her like complete crap even after she found the nerve to befriend me. There's no way she cares for me in that way anymore. I'm actually surprised she doesn't loathe my guts.

"No," I deny again. "There's no way."

"Listen, man," he says, not even the slightest hint of humor in his voice. "I know what I saw. That girl is head over heels for you."

"How could you possibly know that?" I ask, needing for this to all be some kind of sick joke.

"Are you really that oblivious?" Dillon questions, his eyes wide in confused surprise. "Had you spared one glance in her direction tonight, you would have seen that that girl couldn't keep her eyes off you for a second."

"Then she likes my face," I say, desperate for any other reason. "Just because she stares doesn't mean she's in love with me."

"Tell yourself whatever you want," Dillon says, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm just telling you what I saw." He pauses. "And Jamie?"

I glance up, waiting for him to continue as I stare at his shadow-obscured face.

"I'm never wrong."

---

How do you all feel about Dillon's advice for Jamie to just go for it?

Let's see what ships we've got going here and vote for your favorite:

Glynn (Greg and Lynn)

Jym/Lamie/Jamynn (Jamie and Lynn)

Dustine/Jillon (Dillon and Justine)

Darice/Clew (Clarice and Drew)

Pew/Denny (Penny and Drew)

Other