Camp 2

The fire crackled like static under a sky full of stars, casting orange light across the circle of half-tired, half-wired college students slumped in their camping chairs and on blankets. Laughter rang out — sharp, bright, and a little too loud.

Someone passed around a bag of marshmallows. Sasha was already on her third.

But I sat a little outside the ring, arms wrapped around my knees, chin resting on the cuff of my hoodie.

The warmth of the fire didn’t quite reach me.

The night was quiet, apart from the fire and distant chatter from other tents — but my head was louder than ever. That itch under my skin. That familiar restlessness.

I missed my guitar.

I missed the weight of it in my lap. The cool touch of the strings. The way it gave my thoughts somewhere to go instead of clawing at the inside of my ribs.

So I started humming.

Soft.

Barely more than a breath.

A song I’d started writing a few nights ago in my room, one I never finished. The melody floated up and disappeared into the trees like smoke.

It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be.

I closed my eyes and leaned into the sound, letting it fill that part of me that always felt just slightly… too much.

Unheard by most.

But not by everyone.

A log shifted in the fire, and when I looked up again, I caught Eren watching me from across the flames. His elbows rested on his knees, hair pulled back in a loose tie, shadows dancing across his cheekbones.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease or smirk.

Just looked. Like he knew the feeling.

I quickly glanced away, letting the next note fade into silence.

He wasn’t supposed to see that part of me — the quiet one, the real one — the version of me that wasn’t sarcasm and sharp glances.

Someone nearby yelled something about ghost stories. A few people groaned. Someone else cheered.

The moment passed.

But for a second, just one, it had felt like the song had reached someone.

And even without my guitar, maybe that was enough.

Just as I started to slip back into my head, letting the fire lull me into quiet, Sasha’s voice shattered the peace like a firecracker.

“TRUTH OR DARE!” she yelled, nearly choking on her marshmallow in her excitement.

“Oh no,” I muttered under my breath.

Connie immediately shot to his feet like he’d been waiting for this his entire life. “YES. YES. LET’S GO. BACK ROW VIBES, GATHER ROUND.”

A few people booed, a few laughed, but of course — no one actually left.

Sasha grabbed an empty soda bottle, plopped it down in the dirt like it was sacred, and gestured dramatically to the circle.

“Everyone in,” she said. “No backing out. If you’re not in, you’re lame.”

Zack groaned. “I am lame. Can I sit out proudly?”

“Nope!” Sasha beamed. “Everyone’s invited. Even you, moody guitar girl.”

I lifted a brow. “Wow. I feel honored.”

Emory curled into Isaac’s side, giggling. “This is gonna be a mess.”

Zander showed up again at some point, arm draped around some poor new girl. Of course.

And then, of course, Eren dropped down right next to me again.

“Truth or dare always ends in someone crying or skinny dipping,” he said casually.

“Then you’re definitely going first,” I shot back.

Sasha clapped her hands. “OKAY, ready?”

Connie spun the bottle.

It whirled, clicking on rocks, blurring in the firelight.

And landed on…

Zander.

Connie grinned wickedly. “Zander. Truth or dare?”

Zander smirked, confident as ever. “Dare.”

“Oh, excellent,” Connie said. “I dare you to not flirt with anyone for the next hour.”

The group exploded with laughter. Zander looked personally offended.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he asked.

“Social experiment,” Sasha said, deadpan. “We believe in growth.”

The bottle spun again.

This time, it landed right on… me.

Of course.

Sasha gasped. “YES. Guitar girl. Truth or dare?”

Eren leaned in just slightly. “Choose carefully.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, then looked back at Sasha.

“Truth,” I said, crossing my arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

Sasha grinned like a cat. “Okay… be honest. Have you ever had a crush on someone here at camp?”

The group ooooh’d dramatically.

I kept my face neutral. I had a reputation to maintain.

“Once,” I said smoothly. “But they turned out to be emotionally unavailable and mildly allergic to soap.”

Connie snorted water out of his nose. Eren raised a brow, clearly trying not to smile.

“Damn,” Zack muttered. “I feel personally attacked and I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

I shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

The bottle spun again, catching the firelight, clicking over stones and twigs.

Everyone leaned forward, the circle suddenly tense with anticipation.

It slowed… slowed… slowed…

Then stopped.

Pointing directly at Emory.

“Ooooooh!” Connie whooped. “Let’s go, Pretty Princess!”

Emory rolled her eyes with a small laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear as she straightened up next to Isaac. “Alright. Hit me.”

“Truth or dare?” Sasha grinned.

Emory hesitated for a second — then lifted her chin. “Dare.”

Zack leaned back dramatically. “Bold of you.”

Sasha clapped her hands with a gleam in her eye that screamed menace. “Okay. I dare you to… kiss the person in this circle you’d most want to hook up with.”

The group collectively lost it.

“SASHA!” I choked.

Isaac blinked, looking very unsure if he should be smug or nervous.

Emory didn’t even blink. She turned, smirked, and pulled Isaac by the collar — planting a slow, smug kiss right on his mouth.

Cheers. Screams. Connie falling over backwards.

Even I had to admit: she didn’t hesitate.

They broke apart, and Isaac looked stunned.

Connie fanned himself. “Lord have mercy.”

“Respect,” Eren murmured beside me, clearly amused. “That’s what I call commitment to the game.”

I tried not to roll my eyes — or stare too long at how Emory curled against Isaac’s side like she hadn’t just stolen the show.

The bottle spun again.

And this time… it landed on Eren.

Of course.

Sasha grinned like she'd just caught a dragon. “Truth or dare, hotshot?”

Eren turned slightly, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes met mine for a brief second — sharp, unreadable.

“Dare,” he said, voice low. “Obviously.”

Sasha’s grin widened like she’d just dealt the winning hand.

“Alright, Eren,” she said, voice dripping with mischief, “I dare you to whisper your most embarrassing crush confession to the person on your left.”

Eren’s eyes flicked to Connie, who was already smirking like this was going to be good.

The circle fell silent — everyone waiting.

Eren leaned over, lips just inches from Connie’s ear.

Connie’s smirk twisted into genuine surprise, then a slow, teasing smile.

“Oh, wow,” he said, turning back to the group with mock shock. “Eren’s got a type.”

Sasha elbowed him playfully. “Details, man! Spill!”

Eren chuckled, stepping back like he’d just dodged a bullet. “You’ll have to ask him.”

Connie laughed, shaking his head. “No way I’m telling.”

The group burst into laughter, the tension breaking.

Isaac nudged Emory, whispering, “This camp just got way more interesting.”

Emory smiled, eyes sparkling in the firelight. “You have no idea.”

The laughter was still ringing around the circle when Eren’s eyes suddenly shifted, locking onto mine like a spotlight cutting through the dark.

He leaned back just enough to catch my attention, that slow, easy smirk curling his lips.

“Alright, babe,” he said — voice low, teasing — “truth or dare?”

A hush fell over the group. Even Connie and Sasha went quiet, sensing something was about to get interesting.

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to ignore the sudden rush of heat flooding my cheeks.

“Is that supposed to intimidate me?” I shot back, crossing my arms.

“Maybe,” he said, voice silky. “Or maybe I just like seeing you blush.”

The whole circle held its breath, waiting.

I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway — because damn if he didn’t know exactly how to get under my skin.

“Truth,” I said, biting back a grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow. “Bold.”

“Been through worse,” I muttered.

“Alright then,” he said, voice dropping a notch. “Who was the last person you kissed?”

The group erupted in whispers and teasing glances, but I kept my gaze steady.

“None of your business,” I said, smirking.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Fair enough, babe. Fair enough.”

Sasha didn’t let up. Her eyes gleamed with mischievous determination as she leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Come on, babe, don’t leave us hanging. Spill it.”

I rolled my eyes but felt the pressure mounting — everyone was waiting, expectant, hanging on the edge of the firelight.

“Fine,” I said, voice low but loud enough for the circle. “It was Isaac.”

A collective ooh rippled through the group.

Emory’s eyes snapped up, sharp and fierce. “Wait, what?”

Isaac blinked, clearly caught off guard, and shifted closer to Emory like trying to shield her with his presence.

Sasha smirked triumphantly. “Now that’s drama.”

Emory’s voice was cool but laced with warning. “Y/N, that’s—”

“Jealous much?” I cut in, unable to keep the edge from my tone.

Emory’s jaw tightened. “No. Just surprised you think it’s okay to bring that up here.”

The fire flickered between us as the night grew heavier.

Eren, watching it all unfold, gave me a subtle nod — like he approved of the fireworks.

Connie and Zack exchanged amused looks, clearly enjoying the tension.

I exhaled slowly, eyes flicking back to the flames. The game had just gotten a lot more interesting.

The firelight flickered across the circle, but a new tension had settled over us.

Eren’s voice came low — barely more than a murmur, but sharp enough to cut through the chatter:

“Isaac won’t be the last guy you kiss for long.”

My eyes snapped to his, surprise flickering before I masked it.

The words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate.

Before I could respond, Zander’s chair scraped back loudly.

“Hey!” he barked, standing up with a glare aimed straight at Eren.

“That’s enough.”

Eren met Zander’s gaze without flinching, smirking just slightly. “Relax, man. Just stating facts.”

Zander’s jaw clenched, fists balling at his sides. “Watch your mouth when you’re talking about my sister.”

Eren shrugged, completely unfazed. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

The group fell silent, sensing the edge of a showdown.

I caught Eren’s eye again — that same unreadable look — and suddenly, the firelight felt hotter.

Connie cracked his knuckles, grinning. “Well, this camp just turned into a soap opera.”

Sasha laughed nervously. “Maybe we should just stick to scary stories.”

I swallowed hard, the tight knot in my chest growing.

This was definitely not going to be a boring night.

The silence lingered, thick and uncomfortable, until someone — I think it was Connie — finally broke it with a grin.

“So, Eren,” he said, nudging him with an elbow, “what’s your story? Where’d you come from? Bet you’ve got some wild family drama.”

Eren’s eyes flicked around the circle like he was sizing everyone up, then he smirked.

“Let’s just say… I’m a nepo baby.”

Zander snorted loudly, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the guy. “Figures. Just what we needed.”

Eren shrugged, clearly amused. “Hey, don’t act like you’re any different.”

Zander raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “What are you talking about?”

Eren’s grin deepened. “You think you’re some self-made king? Newsflash — you’re a nepo baby too.”

The group blinked, caught off guard.

Zander’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again like he was searching for a comeback.

I leaned back, smirking. “That explains a lot.”

Zander shot me a glare but said nothing.

Eren chuckled softly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guess the camp’s just full of trust fund royalty.”

Connie burst out laughing. “Welcome to the jungle, baby.”

Sasha shook her head, still grinning. “This is better than any reality show.”

The fire crackled, and for a moment, the tension eased — replaced by an unexpected camaraderie.

Sasha, still riding the chaotic high of the evening, turned to me with a wide-eyed grin.

“Wait, Y/N — what do your parents do again?” she asked, not unkindly, but loud enough that heads turned.

I shifted slightly, brushing ash off my hoodie. “My mom runs a pharmaceutical company, and my dad’s a public figure — politician adjacent.”

Connie whistled. “That explains Zander’s party habits.”

Before I could say anything else, Emory let out a snide little laugh.

“Right. But you’re not actually their kid,” she said, voice syrupy sweet. “You’re the charity case they adopted.”

My head snapped toward her.

The fire crackled. Everyone went still.

Even Isaac looked like someone had slapped him.

I didn’t flinch, didn’t blink.

“Yeah?” I said, voice calm and sharp like broken glass. “And you treat Isaac like a charity case you haven’t decided to commit to yet.”

Oof.

The words landed hard.

Emory’s smile faltered.

Isaac shifted uncomfortably beside her, looking like he wanted to disappear into the log he was sitting on.

Sasha muttered, “Yikes,” under her breath.

Eren raised both brows, clearly impressed. “Damn.”

Zack whistled. “We’re lighting fires and burning bridges tonight.”

Emory folded her arms tightly across her chest, not saying a word.

I stared into the flames, jaw tight, but steady.

I hadn’t come to camp to throw hands. But I also wasn’t going to sit there and let someone decide my worth for me.

Not again.

Emory straightened up, eyes blazing now, any hint of her usual sweetness burned away.

“Why’d you kiss my boyfriend then, huh?” she snapped, voice rising above the fire. “If he’s such a charity case, why’d you want him?”

I didn’t even blink. “Relax. It was in elementary school.”

That only seemed to piss her off more. “Wow. So what, you haven’t kissed a guy since elementary?” She tilted her head, fake sympathy dripping from her voice. “That explains a lot.”

A few people winced.

Zack looked ready to throw his marshmallow skewer like a dagger.

I just smiled — the cold, unreadable kind that came with years of swallowing worse.

“No,” I said calmly, “it explains that I have standards.”

The fire snapped between us, like it was enjoying the tension.

Emory opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Eren let out a quiet, appreciative whistle beside me. “And there it is.”

Sasha’s mouth was hanging open. Connie muttered something like, “This is better than my mom’s telenovelas.”

Isaac ran a hand through his hair, clearly regretting all his life decisions.

I stood up slowly, brushing my hands off on my jeans.

“Anyway,” I said, “thanks for the entertainment. I’m done babysitting people’s insecurities.”

And with that, I walked off into the trees, the night cool and quiet behind me.

But I could still feel the fire burning in my chest.

And for once, I didn’t try to put it out.

Back at the fire, the silence cracked in a different way.

Emory blinked fast, her lips pressed into a tight, trembling line.

Her eyes were glassy now. She wasn’t saying anything. She didn’t have to.

Zander glanced at her, confused but unbothered, already turning back to his conversation with some girl draped over his shoulder.

But Isaac saw.

He saw everything.

He stood abruptly, firelight catching in his eyes as he looked at Emory, then turned sharply toward the path I’d taken into the trees.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath before walking off after me.

---

I hadn’t gone far — just far enough to escape the heat of the fire and the tension dragging down every word.

Leaves crunched under someone’s shoes.

“Y/N.”

I turned, already knowing who it was.

Isaac stood a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“She’s crying.”

I raised an eyebrow. “She insulted me first.”

He took a step closer. “Yeah, well… you humiliated her in front of everyone.”

“She called me a charity case,” I snapped, arms folding across my chest. “And then mocked the fact I haven’t made out with half the college.”

“She’s just—she’s not used to being challenged like that,” he said, his voice lower now, more pleading. “Come on. You could’ve handled it better.”

“I could’ve handled it better?” I laughed bitterly. “Of course. Because I’m the one who’s supposed to swallow it all down, right? Just let her talk, let her act like she owns you and everyone else, and I smile through it like I’m made of stone?”

Isaac didn’t say anything.

I exhaled, tired now.

“She doesn’t like me, Isaac. She never did. And deep down, you know that.”

His expression flickered — something like guilt behind his eyes.

“She’s just…” he trailed off. “She’s complicated.”

“So am I,” I said simply.

We stared at each other for a moment, the silence thick and tense between us.

“You want me to apologize,” I said finally. “For defending myself.”

“I want you to make peace. That’s all.”

I looked past him, toward the fire glowing in the distance.

Then back at him.

“She’s your girlfriend,” I said quietly. “Not mine.”

I didn’t get far.

His fingers closed around my wrist.

“Y/N—”

I yanked my arm back, not hard, but sharp enough to make my point.

“Let go,” I said, low and dangerous.

But he didn’t.

Not at first.

And that’s when I realized we weren’t alone anymore.

Footsteps behind us. Voices. Leaves crunching.

The glow of the fire cast long shadows, and I could hear Sasha whispering, “Are they—are they fighting?”

Connie: “I mean... kind of hot, kind of terrifying.”

Eren was standing back with his arms crossed, unreadable.

Zack hovered nearby, jaw clenched, ready to step in.

“Y/N,” Isaac said again, softer this time. “You don’t have to walk away like this. I’m not trying to hurt you. I just—”

“You already did.”

He froze.

I took a breath, not to calm down, but to keep from screaming.

“You stood there, Isaac. While she made fun of my life, my family, and you said nothing.”

The circle around us thickened. The campfire crackled louder now, like it could sense the burn building.

“She’s upset—” he tried.

“And I’m not allowed to be?”

He dropped my wrist finally, hands going up in surrender. “I’m just trying to fix it.”

I laughed. Cold. Flat.

“You’re not trying to fix anything. You’re trying to keep her from being mad at you.”

Zander pushed through the crowd, brows furrowed. “What the hell’s going on?”

Before I could answer, Emory’s voice rang out from behind the group:

“She’s jealous, that’s what.”

I whipped around.

She was standing just past the trees, arms crossed, mascara slightly smudged, eyes puffy.

“She’s always wanted what I have,” Emory said, voice cracking with the kind of fake composure only girls with too many secrets wear like perfume.

I stared at her. Then back at Isaac.

And I realized, in that moment, what pissed me off most wasn’t what she said — it was how quiet he still was.

I looked at the group. At Eren, who was still watching me like I was the only person here who hadn’t lost their mind.

Then I said clearly, to no one and everyone:

“I don’t want what she has. I want what I deserve.”

Just as I started to pull away, ready to end this pointless fight, a sharp voice cut through the crowd.

“Hey, Isaac—”

Heads turned.

Eren stepped forward, eyes cold but fierce, locking onto Isaac like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Quit being such a pussy pleaser.”

The words landed like a bomb.

Isaac blinked, momentarily speechless.

The circle fell quiet, tension crackling in the cool night air.

I glanced at Eren, surprised but grateful.

Eren didn’t break eye contact with Isaac.

“You’re so busy trying not to upset Emory, you forgot there’s a person right here who’s got every right to be pissed off.”

Isaac swallowed hard, jaw tightening.

Zander folded his arms, scowling at Eren. “Watch your mouth.”

Eren shrugged, unbothered. “Or what? You’ll throw a tantrum? Grow up.”

The group murmured, some snickering nervously.

I took a shaky breath, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety.

Isaac finally spoke, voice low and rough. “I’m trying to keep peace. That’s all.”

“Peace?” Eren scoffed. “You’re keeping quiet while she throws insults like grenades.”

Isaac’s fists clenched.

I stepped between them, voice steady. “Enough. This isn’t helping.”

Eren nodded slightly, turning his gaze to me. “She’s right. But maybe next time, you stand up for her instead of sitting on your hands.”

Isaac looked at me, pain flickering in his eyes, but said nothing.

The fire crackled loudly as the night stretched on, heavy with unspoken words.

For once, I felt like I wasn’t completely alone.

As the tension simmered down, Zack nudged me with a cheeky grin.

“So, Y/N,” he said, voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “you and Eren? You guys kinda make a good team. Think there’s something there?”

I shot Zack a look that could’ve burned holes in his forehead.

Eren smirked, stepping closer with that familiar glint in his eye.

“Yeah, Zack,” he said, voice low and teasing, “you’re the only one who seems to care about her.”

He turned to me, folding his arms. “Maybe you should get better friends.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile.

Zack laughed. “Hey, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

Eren’s smirk deepened. “Yeah, well, maybe you’re the only one with good taste.”

The group chuckled, the mood lightening for the first time in a while.

I glanced at Eren — annoyed but secretly thankful.

Maybe having him around wasn’t all bad.