Seventeen

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The next morning everything feels like a dream. I wake up like I have every other morning; groaning at the sound of my alarm, dragging myself out of bed to take a shower before going to wake up the campers in the adjoining room. Some complain and ask for five more minutes while others push their covers away with a sigh. Our usual morning routine takes about as long as it usually does and we're out the door by eight. Since it's Saturday, breakfast isn't for another half hour, but the extra time is always welcomed by the boys. They run to the tetherball for a few games before the other cabins are out. It's not uncommon that Wolf Cabin is the first one up and going on the weekends. The other cabins take their time, indulging in the small weekend treat, but my campers had been adamant that we be the first ones ready so they can get their rounds in on the tetherball.

I watch the boys from the steps of Wolf Cabin, eyes struggling to stay open, barely noticing Timothy sitting next to me.

"Do you like Jordan?"

I nearly jump out of my skin, a hand flying up to my chest as I look down and see Timothy's signature long, curly hair. He's staring straight ahead, not sparing me a glance as he waits for an answer.

"What?"

Timothy finally looks at me, eyes big and shining. "I saw you sneak away yesterday and when you came back, Jordan was with you. You guys seemed different. Kind of like how my mommy and daddy act with each other in the morning."

Timothy, one of the youngest boys in my cabin and probably the whole camp, has to be one of the most observant kids I've met. While the other boys are focused on games and winning and when they get to eat next, Timothy is on the sidelines, watching everything with a curious mind. I had been so sure that no one saw me sneak away last night, and Timothy's comment not only denies that, but it also confirms that last night was real, in some sense.

"Timmy, Jordan and I are friends. Of course I like him," I say, hoping it'll be enough to get him off my back.

Timothy shakes his head. "But you're extra friendly with him."

"Because he's my best friend." It's not entirely true, but not entirely untrue either. Patrick is and has been my best friend for years. I doubt he'd let me replace him with someone I've known a few weeks. But Jordan is also my best friend at camp, though Tammy might have a few choice words for me if she heard that.

"Are you sure? I have a best friend, too—Shawn—but we don't sit that close or whisper a lot or blush or—"

My eyes widen and I wave my hands to cut him off. "Timothy, buddy, Jordan and I are just really close, that's all. But if you could keep this to yourself, I'd appreciate it, alright? I don't want any of the other staff getting the wrong idea. We could get in trouble and then I wouldn't get to hang out with you anymore."

That seems to do the trick as Timothy frowns and flings himself at me. I catch him in my arms and give him a gentle squeeze.

"Are they going to take you away? My mommy says that's what happens when people do bad things. They get taken away. I don't want you to go away," he mutters into my chest, voice muffled by my shirt.

I laugh at the comparison he's unknowingly made to criminals and ruffle his hair. "Nah, they can't get me, Timmy. I won't let them, anyway. Can't miss out on more time with my best pal."

"Is that me?" Timothy pulls back, a hopeful smile on his lips.

I nod. "Sure is."

"That's cool, I like that. Wanna play chopsticks?"

I smile and agree to a quick game before we leave for breakfast. I let Timothy win, knowing he'll be thrilled to think that he beat someone older at a kid's game. As soon as he does, that familiar smile is planted on his face and he jumps up, cheering.

And I think, no, I wouldn't mind if these next two weeks go by slowly. Because the excitement radiating from Timothy as we walk to breakfast is beyond worth it.

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