Bree “What are you doing?” Gabriella asked, her tone laced with venom as I stepped into the hut. I looked up, my eyes scanning the dim space, the tension thick like smoke in the air. Gabriella and her two loyal shadows were lounging around, chatting idly while puffing on vapes that released a sickly sweet scent—something artificial and cloying, like rotting candy. “I’m gonna lay in bed,” I said simply, pointing toward my assigned bunk. But then my breath hitched. Three open suitcases—none of them mine—were splayed across my bed like they belonged there. Clothes and accessories scattered in chaotic heaps, as if they’d exploded into place. Meanwhile, my own belongings lay crumpled on the floor next to the door, carelessly tossed aside like garbage. My pillow and duvet were thrown on top of it all, limp and uninviting, like they didn’t belong to anyone. The sight was almost surreal—every fiber in me tensed. Gabriella let out a laugh, but it wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from amusement. No, it was cruel—mocking and sharp. The kind of sound a villainess would make after snapping a wing off a butterfly. Her lips curled as she leaned forward, amusement dancing cruelly in her eyes. “You’re not staying in here,” she said, her voice cutting like glass. Her friends smirked at me, silent back-up to the queen bee. “You can stay outside with the rest of the animals.” My brows pulled together instinctively, confusion crashing into indignation. Anger began to simmer low in my stomach, creeping into my chest. I’d had a good day—finally—one where the weight of everything didn’t drown me, where I could breathe just a little. Not because I talked to a million people—God knows I didn’t—but because it felt like, for once, I wasn’t the shadow of my former self. For once, people laughed around me, not at me. “I’m assigned to stay here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, holding her stare. “You can’t just throw me out.” Gabriella rose to her full height, and even though she was only a few inches taller, she might as well have been a damn skyscraper. Her slim figure was draped in designer loungewear, like she’d walked off a runway and into camp. She radiated smugness, arrogance dripping from every pore. “I can do whatever the hell I want,” she said, swirling her pointer finger in the air like she was casting a spell. “Because here? I make the calls. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” “I’ll go to the counselors,” I said, lifting my chin and narrowing my eyes. I wasn’t going to back down—not without a fight. She laughed again, but this time it was darker, more calculated. She took a step closer, her presence swallowing the space between us, and I could practically feel the poison in her breath. “Do that,” she said, her voice dipping to a dangerous whisper, “and I’ll print out those pictures. Hand them out to everyone. Plaster them around camp if I feel like it. How do you think Gage will react to that? You think he’ll still wanna bake muffins with you, sweetheart?” Her smile turned cruel. “Because I sure as hell don’t.” The air was knocked from my lungs. I stumbled back half a step, her threat hitting me dead center in my chest. I didn’t want Gage—or anyone—to see those pictures. They weren’t for public eyes. They were stolen, betrayed. They were meant to stay private, between me and the boy who’d promised not to hurt me—and then did. “What do you expect me to do?” I whispered, my voice cracking as the panic clawed its way into my throat. She scoffed like I was the dumbest thing she’d ever seen. “What do I care?” she snapped. “But you’re not sleeping in here, that’s for f*****g sure.” I looked down at my belongings—my life in pieces at the foot of the door—and that sickening wave of shame washed over me again. Just like it had the day Brandon Chen shoved his phone in my face, laughing like it was a joke. Like I was the punchline. “You’re not being fair,” I said, barely above a whisper, my eyes stinging as the first tear threatened to fall. Gabriella leaned in closer, her face twisted with disgust. “And you’re moving above your playing field, skank,” she spat, the word laced with venom. I flinched, the insult slapping me across the face. I wanted to scream at her, to defend myself, but the words wouldn’t come. They never did when I needed them most. “Stay away from Gage. Stay away from Caleb. Just stay the f**k away. And we won’t have a problem.” With that, she turned around and flopped back onto her bed like she hadn’t just carved open my chest and left me bleeding. She grabbed the vape and took a long inhale, blowing out a plume of smoke like a damn dragon. “What are you still doing here?” she asked, lazily glancing in my direction. “Maybe she’s deaf,” one of her friends snorted, sending them all into a fresh round of giggles. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t give them anything else to feed off of. I just bent down and gathered my things—the pathetic pile of fabric and clothes and memories—and carried them out like a ghost. Like I didn’t exist. Laughter rang in my ears as I exited, voices mixing with the evening breeze and the hum of other campers enjoying their time. No one noticed me. No one saw me. I slipped behind the hut, hidden by shadows and silence. Behind it, tucked beneath the overhang of the roof, was a small wooden bench. Weathered, a little crooked, but dry. I sat down on it, curling into myself with the pillow and duvet like they could protect me from the world. And then I broke. The tears came fast, hot, and unstoppable. My body shook as I tried to choke them down, tried to muffle my sobs. But the pain? The pain didn’t care. It ripped through me like wildfire, igniting every broken piece inside me. And in that moment, beneath the shelter of splintered wood and cruel memories, I felt like I might never be whole again. Gage “Come on,” Kenneth groaned, dragging both hands down his face like the weight of his thirst was too much to bear. “Those girls look way too fine, and f**k if they aren’t ready immediately.” A low snort slipped from my lips as I shook my head at them from the top bunk, already used to their crap. Caleb, Kenneth, and Miguel were all lounging on the lower beds like lazy wolves on the hunt, their voices thick with testosterone and locker room bravado. They were deep into their usual bullshit—ranking who had the finest ass, guessing which girl would be most likely to suck them off by sundown. Same old story. “I think Sophia got a f*****g boob job or something,” Miguel chimed in like an overexcited teenager. “Did you see them bouncing earlier? Seriously, my shorts nearly burst.” “Did you see Caroline?” Kenneth added, elbowing Caleb with a smug grin. “Those shorts she wore were practically illegal.” Caleb groaned, rubbing his face like the memory was haunting him in the best way. “I know, man. She looked goddamn fine today.” Caroline and Caleb had something going on last semester. If you could even call it that. It was more like a mutual understanding—whenever they felt like it, they’d f**k. No attachments. No complications. And I wasn’t judging. She got him to focus when he needed it—really focus. But then Caleb said something that made every nerve in my body tighten. “But did you see Bree?” he asked, and my head instinctively peeked over the edge of the bunk, eyes narrowing. “She’s got that whole glasses thing going on. I don’t know, man,” he went on, “I might have a fetish or something.” Kenneth burst out laughing like that was the funniest s**t he’d heard all week, while Miguel grinned wide, mischief in his eyes. “Please, she’s the definition of a good girl,” Miguel said, shaking his head. “She’d never actually f**k you, especially not at summer camp.” “Isn’t it always the good girls that are secretly the wildest in bed?” Kenneth added, jumping up like he couldn’t help himself. He grabbed an imaginary waist, mock-thrusting into the air like a goddamn cartoon. “Scream for me, nerdy, come on, tell me how hard you want it.” “Oh, Caleb,” Miguel moaned, pitching his voice high in mock ecstasy. “Oh yes, f**k me harder.” “Hey!” My voice cracked through the room, sharper than I meant it, but not a second too soon. All three froze and looked up at me, eyes wide, caught mid-idiocy. But I couldn’t protect her—not directly. If I acted like I cared too much, they’d only zero in harder. Guys like them didn’t understand subtlety; they thrived on weakness. So I played it cool, pasting a grin on my face like it didn’t cost me something. “You want wild? Then go for Gabi,” I said smoothly. “There’s nothing she won’t do. Promise.” And I knew that for a fact. Gabriella had made her intentions crystal clear—more than once. Whatever I wanted, however I wanted it, she’d do it without a second thought. But that wasn’t what I wanted. Kenneth grinned wider, laughing like I’d just handed him a VIP pass. “Maybe you should take your own advice, pretty boy,” he told Caleb. “You might get even luckier than with the nerd.” I laid back on the bunk, staring at the ceiling, but my jaw was tight. Because there was no f*****g way I was letting anyone talk about Bree like that. Not while I was breathing. They could talk about any other girl in this camp—but not her. She was mine. And I knew I was being a hypocrite, I knew I had nothing on them. Because I’d already thought about her too much. About the way her lips would part with a gasp. About how she’d taste, what her skin would feel like under my hands, the sound she’d make when I finally slid deep inside her. Would she be soft and quiet, desperate and begging? Or would she surprise me—taking control, showing me that beneath all that shyness was a fire waiting to burn? God help me, I wanted to know. But it wasn’t just lust. That’s the thing. It was earlier, when we baked those stupid muffins together. Watching her laugh, seeing her joy when the sparkles poured everywhere. It felt like I’d lived in that moment, like time had slowed just to give me the gift of watching her light up. It wasn’t just her laugh, it was how she made me laugh too, made me forget about everything else. She looked at me like I was just a guy, not some football star, not a future NFL player. Just me. And I liked that. I craved that. I’d never been into flings. Never really cared for the drama or the chaos that came with meaningless hookups. But when I thought about Bree? My mind wandered somewhere else entirely. I imagined standing in a kitchen with her years from now, cooking something simple together, bumping shoulders as we moved around each other. Her voice soft as she teased me, her smile blinding when I kissed her mid-sentence. I pictured us laughing over dinner, the day washing off us like sweat in the shower. I pictured pulling her in at night, holding her close, making love to her like we had nowhere else to be but tangled up in each other’s arms. And when I imagined her sighing my name—really sighing it—it didn’t feel dirty or shameful. It felt like home. That kind of relationship? That wouldn’t be a waste of time. That wouldn’t be a mistake or a regret. That kind of relationship… that would be the forever kind.