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ENTER AURORA HENSON. . .

The afternoon sun poured beautifully through the cracks in her curtains, casting bright beams of yellow and orange across the room. Aurora tucked two loose curls behind her ears and tilted her head to gaze over at Julien, who had been silently reading a magazine. Every few pages, she would break the otherwise overwhelming silence to spark a conversation about pop culture.

To be honest, both of them were very bored. Aside from the poetry club they had joined at the beginning of camp, there wasn’t much left for them to do. August was approaching quickly, and while Aurora dreaded the thought of packing her bags to go home, she did find herself missing upstate Vermont a little.

She groaned, throwing herself backward onto her bed. Julien laughed at Aurora’s reaction, her feet swinging in the air. She lay on her stomach as she read. “Dramatic much?”

“Oh, come on,” Aurora responded as she rolled her eyes. “You’ve been reading the same page in that magazine for ten minutes.”

“Have not!” Julien bickered, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the floor next to her bed. She adjusted against the covers.

Aurora’s eyes rolled once more. “We need to come up with something exciting. What if we stage a coup? Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Do you want us to get arrested? I doubt your parents would bail us out of jail. I know mine definitely wouldn’t,” replied Julien.

“Maybe not,” Aurora shrugged. “Charlie would.”

Julien smirked. “Yeah? How is he, anyway?”

“He’s good. At least, I think so.” Aurora's cheeks flushed at the thought of Charlie. It was strange how her feelings had evolved—what she had fought against so fiercely at first now flourished after weeks of self-defiance.

She missed him.

Unknowingly, her entire life changed when Neil introduced her to his friends. Now, she was head-over-heels for a boy she’d have to let go of once summer ended. How, in any sense of the word, could that be fair?

Why should she have to give him up?

She lay there in her bed, Julien throwing pillows at her. She covered her face with one—pink with tassels around the edges—and screamed into the fabric. Julien looked onward from her side of the room, giggling softly at her friend’s reaction. Before she could tease Aurora for her dramatism, the door to their bunk opened. A gust of wind followed behind the two boys that entered. It was slightly chilly, another reminder that August wouldn’t be so warm with its welcome. The two of them were conversing back and forth, Julien focusing on their figures as they entered the room.

”Hi, Neil,” she muttered, her eyes squinted. “And…”

”Knox,” the other boy spoke up. “Knox Overstreet.”

“Interesting name,” she added.

“What’s Aurora doing?” Neil pointed with his right hand, a pamphlet crinkled in his left. His grip on it was unknowingly very tight, and his palm was sweating from both nervousness and the lingering humidity. 

Aurora quickly pulled the ruffled pillow from her face and sat up against her headboard, eyeing Neil and Knox as they stood there.

“Oh, hello,” she quietly expressed.

Julien snickered. Knox did, too.

She threw the pillow at Julien in an act of embarrassment. Once she regained her composure, she turned to face the boys that now stood in her and Julien’s bunk. “What brings you two by?”

“Neil’s in a play,” Knox answered, a smirk on his face. 

Neil beamed next to him. He couldn't contain his glee, the pleasure radiating from his slim figure. Aurora’s eyes widened with cheer. Of course, she was shocked, too.

“Is that true?” Her gaze pandered from Knox’s frame to Neil’s. “Oh my god, that’s amazing news!”

Neil nodded, his hair bouncing excitedly with each movement he made. This was a big deal, and everyone in the room was aware of it. "Isn’t it?! I’m the lead, Aurora,” he announced at once, launching himself onto her bed. The springs squeaked under their combined weight, causing Julien to cover her ears as she watched from her side of the room.

Neil’s voice wavered happily. “I’m the lead, and my father isn’t here to stop me.”

Aurora could’ve cried from the overwhelming joy she felt in the moment. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled brightly, and she pulled Neil in closer, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She savored the soft laughter that bubbled out of him like music. It was a sound she could listen to for hours. “Is that what the pamphlet is for?” she asked playfully, her voice muffled as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Neil nodded. Once the two pulled apart, he handed her the pamphlet. The printing was iffy and the pages were rough, the cover torn from where Neil had been holding onto it. “Mhm, and it’s got all the information in it. Do you know where the makeshift auditorium is?”

Aurora shook her head. “No, not a clue.” She hadn’t wandered that far, yet. Despite being here just as long as everyone else, she felt extremely out of the loop.

Julien’s eyebrow furrowed. “The one that’s haunted?”

Knox snapped his fingers. “Yes! Finally, someone gets it.”

Aurora grimaced. “It's haunted?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “It’s not haunted. You people will believe anything, won't you?”

Julien and Knox frowned. 

Aurora stifled a laugh as she went to speak again. “Is everyone going?”

It was a stupid question to ask, but Neil answered anyway. “Yup, I had Mr. Keating tuck away tickets. I was wondering if you and Julien would go, too?” Neil asked softly, his legs tucked underneath of him as he talked to Aurora. “It’s okay if not, but I’d love to have you both there. Besides, Charlie’s looking forward to seeing you.”

She felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

Aurora didn’t hesitate with her answer. 

She’d go. If not for Neil, for Charlie. 

“Of course, we’ll be there, dummy,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow as he sat at the end of her bed. “What, you think I’d miss out on your breakout role? Count us in.”

“Actually,” Julien added. “Your timing is perfect, too. You’ve cured our boredom.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say cured,” answered Aurora. “Two-ish more weeks to go.”

It was staggering how quickly their summer went by. Aurora, though she’d been checking the calendar on her bedside table every morning, hadn’t realized just how much time she had left here in rural Vermont.

It left a small pit in her stomach; she wasn’t very good with goodbyes.

Neil pulled himself out of Aurora’s bed, his feet making contact with the hardwood flooring as he adjusted his posture. “Don’t remind me,” he exhaled.

“Damn, August is that close already?” Knox frowned.

“Don’t you know how to read a calendar?” Aurora joked.

Neil giggled. “The play is next weekend, by the way,” he added as he found his footing next to Knox. “The time should be there in the pamphlet, but let me know if it’s not. I think the boys are meeting Mr. Keating by the pavilion and then heading to the auditorium as a group, so you’re free to join them!”

“Ah, the legendary Mr. Keating,” Aurora grinned. 

“He’s heard lots about you,” added Knox. 

Aurora’s cheeks warmed. “Good or bad?” She stuttered.

“Good,” he replied. “It’s coming from Neil and Charlie, what bad can they say about you?”

Aurora shrugged. “You never know,” she said.

She’d had her fair share of trouble in the past, but it gave her hope to know that her friends looked up to her, that Charlie looked up to her. 

She couldn’t wait to meet Mr. Keating, either. She’d heard good things about him, as well. To the group, he was almost a father figure—which brought comfort to Aurora, because that’s exactly what Neil needed: someone other than her and Todd that could support his passions and be there for him. 

“Well,” Neil exhaled as he rocked back and forth on the heels of his shoes. “Meeks has us booked for a group game night later, so we should be heading back to our bunk. I’ll see you, Aurora,” he waved, pushing Knox toward the door. 

Before they made their way outside, Knox gripped onto the door frame and abruptly turned around. “Hopefully it doesn’t rain next weekend,” he teased. 

Aurora gasped at his cryptic words. She wanted to reply with something witty, but Neil tugged at his arm and dragged him away before she could respond.

With that, the two were gone just as fast as they were there.

“Charlie was right,” she turned around in her bed to face Julien, baffled at Knox and his grand exit. “Knox was onto him, and he’s gone and made it everyone’s problem.”

“Is Knox single?” Julien bluntly let out.

ENTER CHARLIE DALTON. . .

The humidity seemed to become trapped within the walls of all the shared bunks, seeping through the wooden planks and making it unbearable for the dark-haired boy to properly rest. There were only so many days left of his and his friends’ summer retreat, and though he hadn’t elaborated much, it secretly worried him that it’d all be over soon. He wasn’t deep into the fine arts. He couldn’t use poetry as an outlet like Todd could, nor could he act as well as Neil, but with the persuasion of Mr. Keating’s teaching style at Welton, he made an unspoken promise to live his life to the fullest of its potential.

He was mostly successful here in rural Vermont.

Welton, which resided upstate like all of the other preparatory schools, was bound to be suffocating once the new academic year began. What he worried about the most, however, was the idea of leaving the countryside without Aurora in tow.

That was the fatal flaw of gendered preparatory schools.

Well, that and the pressure.

Charlie could handle that, though.

He sighed. He stretched his limbs out amongst the grass and allowed the moonlight to accentuate his figure. The wind cascaded and glazed his face, caressing the baby hairs that loosely fell over his forehead. It tickled, and as he hastily fixed him with the slightest of hand, he heard someone approaching behind him. They hovered on the other side of the tree trunk—and as his eyes adjusted to the shadows their body cast, he realized whom he was looking at.

It was Aurora, who entered with a sense of daintiness that Charlie hadn’t seen emitted by anyone else before. He smiled, his eyes closing softly. “Hi,” he whispered. He wasn’t as bold as he was through text. He tended to freeze up often when he saw Aurora in person, especially in settings like this where her beauty was so prominent and rare.

“Hi,” she whispered back, referring to the very reason he was out here in the first place. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“Too stuffy,” he admitted. “I miss my dorm.”

“Yeah?” She chuckled as she took a seat in the grass and rested her back against the rigid tree trunk. The roots underneath her were rough, and they pressed into the visible backs of her thighs.

He nodded. “Don’t you ever get homesick?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I haven’t been in a while.”

He furrowed a brow, his arms resting atop his chest.

“Why?” He asked.

“I don’t know what home is, really,” she shrugged.

It wasn’t sad. Not to her, at least. Aurora, at her age, grew used to her parents and their constant hovering. She grew used to being belittled and told that her passions weren’t ‘realistic’ enough, or that she’d never make a living off her love for words.

Anyone in hers, or the boys’ positions, per se, would know that pressure all too well. It was devouring all of their joy and further cemented the idea that there can’t be fun outside of school or in the work you pursue.

Charlie didn’t frown at Aurora’s confession—his face was rather straight instead, but it didn’t limit how much he felt for her. He felt for himself, too. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Having to build a new home from the ground up,” he answered solemnly. “If that makes sense.”

Aurora knew what he meant. “Oh, like the concept of a found family?” She questioned.

He nodded. “Mhm, exactly like that.”

“I understand. It is weird, but it’s worth it. I’d say Neil is the closest I have to family here,” she added.

Charlie hummed.

Maybe, in some other universe, he could be part of her found family, too. He could take care of her, uplift her, and listen to her—perhaps he could do all of what she’s done for him this summer and more.

Alas, he knew that outside of camp, that couldn’t happen. He had to be practical.

He dreamed, though. Oh, how he dreamed.

“I love those boys,” he beamed as he traced over the stars in the evening sky with his eyes. His breathing was comfortably slow and steady. “I’d die for them, I think. Especially Neil. I mean, how could a father blatantly ignore the passion that brews inside of his own son?”

“Maybe he sees it after all,” she proposed. “Maybe he’s ignoring it so harshly because it’ll remind him too much of himself.”

Charlie hadn’t thought of it that way.

Mr. Perry was a tough stone to crack. Everyone who knew Neil knew that. He denounced everything Neil held perseverance for and he refused to be there for any of Neil’s passion projects. He had one dream set for his son: go to Harvard and study medicine, and after that, it didn’t matter.

Charlie didn’t like that—not for Neil, not for himself, and not for his friends or Aurora. They were kids, for Christ’s sake. They should be living their lives to the fullest together, not snuffing any spark that burned brightly inside of their souls.

“It’s fucked either way,” mumbled Charlie as he cursed.

“I agree,” Aurora mumbled back.

“What do they gain from withholding us from our dreams?” the dark-haired boy pondered, his voice flowing with vulnerability.

Aurora pulled herself from the trunk of the tree, now adjusting next to Charlie and his sprawled-out body. He was so still, she noted, and she looked over at him with utmost perplexity. She traced over the details of his face with her eyes, taking in every rigid smile that he expressed. She parted her lips. “Nothing,” she simply exclaimed to him. “They do it because we’re their children. If they lose control over us, they lose control of themselves, too. I think deep down they fear us growing up—the idea that one day, we won’t need them to make decisions for us, anymore.”

Charlie met her sky-blue eyes in the darkness, specks of gold peeking through the glacier tones. He reached his hand out toward her, patiently waiting to see if she’d take it into her own.

She did so almost instantly.

He pulled her closer, aligning her smaller frame next to his taller, slightly larger one. Her honey-blonde hair brushed against his cheek as she gently rested her head against his chest. She could hear the steady pounding of his heartbeat, the vibrations resonating through his ribs as he spoke.

“Do you think we’ll be able to break that cycle one day?” He asked abruptly, an arm snaking around her waist.

She closed her eyes. “Always,” she said with faith.

Charlie simply smiled in response. Silence fell over the two, the breeze blowing over them as they lay underneath the aging oak tree. The leaves rustled and fell to the ground below, Aurora softly giggling as she pulled them from her hair. Charlie pressed his lips to the top of her head as he fixed the loose strands that ran rampant across her rosy complexion. His fingertips were gentle, enough to coax Aurora into a soft slumber on top of him.

The subtle peace and the coolness of the nearing August—It was romantic, and she begged internally for it to never end.

ENTER AURORA HENSON. . .

After a few days, the storm that tormented the Vermont countryside passed with ease.

Aurora wasn’t too bothered by it.

How could she be?

Everything had been muddied and damp, counselors reminding groups of rowdy teenagers to be safe as they ran through the grass. Aurora had a book under her arm as she descended the hill and headed towards a familiar row of cabins. She smiled at the audible conversations around her, a few girls waving to her as she walked.

Her bunk mates, especially Julien, were happy to see her in a better state.

Once the blonde-headed girl entered the boys’ bunk, she noticed quickly that Neil and Todd were the only ones present. The radio was on and the light rain that was left over softly pattered outside against the rooftops. It was awfully humid, though Aurora didn’t care; she was filled with undiluted glee, adrenaline fizzing through her veins. Neil had ‘My Funny Valentine’ by Frank Sinatra playing, which Aurora thought was very fitting for the news she was about to share.

Todd was resting his head in Neil’s lap as she walked in, a book in both of their hands. They were popcorn reading—at least that was Aurora’s final conclusion, noting that they both had the same text between their fingers.

At the sound of the door closing, Neil perked up. He hadn’t properly seen Aurora since the party, so her presence was both unwarranted and soothing.

He closed his book. “Wasn’t expecting company, but I’m glad you’ve stopped by,” he stated. There was a tinge of disappointment there. “I’ve been texting you.”

“I saw,” Aurora said. “I’m sorry for being so closed-off.”

She really did feel bad about it. After all, Neil was her longest and closest friend.

The two were like brother and sister.

Neil nodded sympathetically. “It’s fine. Charlie told us bits and pieces of what happened after the party. Are you okay?” He asked, careful not to seem too nosy as Todd shifted next to him.

Aurora parted her lips. “Oh, I am now,” she answered.

Todd furrowed a brow. He examined her expression and the slight pep in her step. She had a familiar glee, one he saw in Charlie earlier in the day.

“Something happened with Charlie, didn’t it?” he added, entering the conversation.

Her breath hitched. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Todd was very much onto her, and now so was Neil, who was clearing a space on his bed for her. He patted it gently with his hand. “Don’t just stand there! Sit, tell us.”

She did so.

Once crammed next to the two of them, she sat her book in her lap. It was Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, and it was a text she read over and over again quite often. The pages were covered in personal annotations, and there were barely any empty spaces left over for new ones.

She studied the two boys before speaking, noting their subtle, affectionate touches and the way they leaned into each other. Their love inspired her, though she was nervous to admit such a thing.

“We kissed in the rain,” she then whispered, allowing for her words to stagnate.

Neil and Todd giggled amongst themselves.

Playfully, they shoved her.

“Really?” Todd said. “No wonder Charlie’s been so chipper, the past few days. Knox stole his breakfast this morning and he didn’t even bat an eye.”

Neil rested his chin in his hand. “How was it?”

Aurora was beaming. “It was good, so good. His shirt was wet from the water, and he told me how he felt. I just—I couldn’t believe it happened. I loved it.”

Neil was happy for her. “Well, I’m glad you’ve made up with him—he can be a real pain sometimes, but he means well.”

Todd nodded in agreement.

“He does,” answered Aurora. “I’m slowly starting to pick his brain, and it’s making things a tad more understandable from his point of view.”

“That’s great,” muttered Neil. “I really am glad for you.”

After the past week, Aurora was relieved that things were slowly getting back to normal around here.

She sighed, falling backwards onto Neil’s bed, her book slumping out of her lap. “It’s quite a feeling. He takes up all the free space in my head, and I don’t think he’s aware of it.”

Todd beamed at Aurora sweetly. “I understand that feeling all too well,” he replied.

The three shared a few more giggles amongst themselves, the door to the bunk opening and closing as they did so.

Neil turned over, eyeing Knox, Cameron, and Charlie as they walked into the room. There were speckles of rain on their clothes, beads of water tracing strands of their hair as Knox jokingly shook his head dry.

Aurora’s eyes immediately focused on Charlie’s figure. She studied how his nose scrunched at Knox’s booming voice, and how his arms were always straight at his sides. Even as he leaned against the bookshelf on his and Knox’s side of the bunk, there wasn’t an ounce of relaxation.

She wondered what always made him so tense.

One day she’d find out. She was sure of it.

Todd and Neil straightened up, placing their books on the nightstand. Aurora climbed out of the bed, balancing her Converse on the cherry-stained hardwood floor. She didn’t make it too obvious that she was there—waiting for someone else to notice and bring it to attention.

Cameron cursed at Knox’s antics, wiping rainwater from his face annoyingly. “Would you quit? You’re not a dog.”

“I could be,” he laughed at Cameron’s distaste.

Charlie’s back straightened out against the bookshelf. After taking a glance around the room, he noticed the blonde staring at him—to which he plastered a wide, goofy smile on his face in response. “Hi,” he softly muttered out.

His unintentional, soft-spoken reply gained Knox and Cameron’s attention, and in the midst of their playful banter, they turned to face Aurora—who awkwardly stood there with a grin on her face as well. Her cheeks were red; though she couldn’t tell if it was a side effect of the summer humidity or Charlie’s eyes scanning over her figure.

“Aurora!” Knox cheered, placing his jacket on the rack.

Aurora waved. “Hi, Knox.”

“Good to see you,” said Cameron. “Had us all nervous, with your absence and all.”

Aurora cocked her head to one side. “Really?” For some reason, she found Cameron’s words to be untrue.

“Well, of course?” He answered. “We like you.”

“Some more than others,” teased Knox.

Charlie’s eyes rolled instinctively.

“He can’t ever catch a break, can he?” Neil responded, holding back a small laugh.

Aurora nodded. “Indeed he cannot,” she said as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts.

She’d been rocking back and forth on the heels of her shoes, slowly making her way over to Charlie as the other boys got caught up in their own conversation.

He grinned, his voice quiet. “You told them, huh?”

“They can read me like a book,” she replied.

“I think Knox is onto me, but I won’t tell him yet. He’ll find out on his own,” Charlie said.

“And when he does?” Aurora smirked.

“Well, then you’ll know,” he chuckled rather loudly. “Knox can’t keep things to himself.”

Knox heard his name, and he nosily peered over to where Aurora and Charlie had been standing. “What?”

“Nothing,” Charlie swatted. “God, you’re nosy.”

“I can keep things to myself!” He protested.

Aurora peered over at Neil from where she had been standing. He winked at her, and she winked back—a secret code of theirs, and a token of his unwavering support that she was glad to have and reciprocate.

Eventually, Charlie got himself dragged into a side conversation after picking on Knox, which gave Aurora time to slip over and grab her book from Neil’s bed. She elbowed the boy, watching as he stared at his friends and their wavering voices.

“I’m really glad things are looking good for you two,” he muttered to her once more.

“Me, too,” she simply answered, taking her book and slipping out of the shared bunk.

The smile on her face remained.

ENTER AURORA HENSON. . .

The blonde-headed girl had been bedrotting since the events of last week’s party. She hadn’t seen or heard from Charlie, and the only notifications that resided on her phone were concerned texts from Neil and aimless likes on her Twitter account.

She hated this.

No matter what she did or where she wandered on the wide, sultry Vermont campgrounds, she thought about Charlie. The words that he spat at her while drunk and vulnerable echoed in her head every night before she went to sleep, and his stupid, sarcastic tone buried itself deep inside her chest. If she were still enough, she was almost sure she could feel him—his ghost lingering in her bunk while she laid there, praying that he’d disappear and haunt someone else.

Among all of this, she missed him.

She knew they were done for—a ending so bittersweet for something that hadn’t even begun yet.

She sat up in her bed. Her hair was a mess, bunched up and tangled from days worth of refusing to brush it.

She needed to shower.

She needed to clear her head.

The majority of her bunkmates were out and about, enjoying the weather before the nearing thunderstorm.

Though mostly silent, they were worried about her.

Alas, Aurora wasn’t completely alone in the bunk—it was her and one other girl, another blonde named Julien who’d been deep into costume design and came to the Vermont retreat to pursue theatre opportunities.

Julien reminded Aurora of Neil.

The two stirred in their beds, and Julien found herself eyeing Aurora’s slouched figure as she parted her lips.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” she finally said.

Aurora turned to face the girl. She dragged her hands down her face. “It was,” she answered. “Miserable.”

Julien tilted her head at Aurora’s reply. “Charlie Dalton isn’t worth all of this sulking. No boy is.”

Aurora shook her head. “He isn’t just some boy, Jules.”

Julien didn’t know what Charlie was to Aurora. Aurora didn’t know, either. All she knew was that she felt connected to him—and that it hurt trying to move past him.

“Get up,” Julien eventually ordered, shifting in her bed across the room. She’d been sitting at the end, her legs pulled underneath her weight.

Aurora, at first, shook her head. She didn’t want to. Her body was tired—she wasn’t sleeping well, and deep down it seemed taxing to even try and socialize with the other girls scattered amongst the Vermont campgrounds.

But, the longer she refused against Julien’s demand, the longer Julien stared at her.

Julien was a demanding blonde.

“Ugh,” sighed Aurora. “Why?”

“Look at yourself,” Julien answered. “Your hair is knotted, you’re worn the same clothes since last weekend, and you’ve barely gotten out of the bunk. Don’t you want to live up summer while you still can? Besides, you saw the forecast—there’s a storm brewing.”

“So what?” Aurora shrugged. “I like rain.”

Julien rolled her eyes. “Stop this. Get up, please? I’ll brush through your hair and then we’ll go get slushees before the rain comes down.”

Aurora’s interest peeked at the idea of a frozen beverage.

Julien knew how to work her magic, that’s for sure.

With little protest, Aurora pulled herself out of her bed and towards the little dresser at the end of the shared room. She grabbed a change of clothes, a spray bottle she used for her curly hair, and a few brushes for Julien.

After Julien made it through the knots in Aurora’s hair and the two changed into much more suitable clothes, they made their way out of the shared bunk and towards the closest 7/11. Of course, disappearing off the campgrounds was frown upon, but the kids didn’t listen much. They’d come back from long walks with sweet treats and new experiences—which, in Aurora’s eyes, was what summer was all about, anyways.

With slushees in hand, they had the entire walk back to campus to get things out of their systems. Julien was prepared to listen to Aurora—if Aurora felt comfortable sharing what ailed her.

She did, indeed.

Without Julien initiating anything, Aurora’s lips parted as she swallowed, her lips tinted blue from the drink in her hand. The clouds in the sky were brewing, dark and angry and already letting out tiny droplets of rainwater.

“I hope he doesn’t think I hate him, or that I’m prepared to give up on things,” she said.

Julien watched the girl as they walked down the sloped street. “What would he hate you for?”

“Because I didn’t push him to be honest,” she answered.

Julien hadn’t attended the party, so she had no clue what went down between the two of them, but she knew Aurora and her passion for the people around her. Alas, she took a long sip of her drink, the sky increasing in darkness. “Maybe you refusing to push him is exactly what he needed,” she said.

“How so?” Aurora asked, a few droplets of rain coating her hair. The strands began to frizz from the humidity.

Julien’s lips were tinted red. Her teeth were stained, too. Aurora could see as she talked, which made her giggle softly to herself.

“Think of it this way,” answered Julien. “He has these emotions that he’s scared to face, and perhaps your refusal to force him is what’ll motivate him to finally get over his fear. I doubt he’d just… forgotten about your existence, Rora. You’ve got mutual friends. You’re beautiful, too. You captivate easily.”

“Yeah?” Aurora teased, slightly honored to hear such praise from Julien.

Julien nodded. “Yeah,” she repeated back.

The rain was coming down a bit harder now, the two quickening their pace. They were about five minutes away from the campgrounds, and they were determined to make it back before the soft, summer droplets became a torrential downpour.

The pair found out the hard way that they couldn’t outrun the rain.

Perhaps it was a metaphor for something.

They laughed, drinks in hand as they ran through the grass. Mud coated their beat-up sneakers, stains of green and brown stuck to the fabric and the leather. Aurora’s socks were soaked, and Julien’s hair had been glued to her face. The heat was much more bearable with the addition of a summer storm.

Once the two made it back onto the campgrounds, Julien immediately booked it towards their bunk.

She realized though that Aurora wasn’t following.

The curly-headed blonde had been standing there, eyeing the old oak tree from a comfortable distance—though, the visuals were cloudy as the wind and rain picked up force.

Julien shouted. “What are you doing?! You’re drenched.”

Aurora pointed. “He’s standing over there,” she yelled.

Julien then focused her attention on the oak tree, understanding now what caught Aurora’s attention.

Charlie was leaning against the bark, his back harshly pressed along the sharp edges as the rain came down. A few boys ran past him, counselors directing them towards shelter from the storm. Charlie didn’t move, however—his brown hair now black from the water.

“Are you just gonna stand there?!” Julien yelled again, her eyes back on Aurora.

Her curls were now flat. “I don’t know,” she replied.

Julien exhaled. “Go after him,” she then said.

Aurora broke contact from the oak tree to face Julien, whose expression was filled with motivation and support.

It didn’t take much for Aurora after that.

In fact, she’d already been running after Charlie, a reply to Julien being the least of her concerns.

The rain came down harder, faster. Puddles formed in the grass, the slopes and hills of the countryside making it harder for Aurora to keep a steady pace.

She didn’t dare let it slow her.

Her heart pounded deep inside her chest, her breathing erratic and quickened. She pushed her sopping wet hair behind her ears, wiping rainwater from her face as she ran. Charlie’s figure remained in her peripheral vision the entire time, her legs tired from running.

At last, she made it to him.

The rain beat down onto the pavilion roof, and through the pitter-patters, Aurora could hear the sounds of her own breathing as she tried to regain composure.

Charlie pulled himself away from the bark. He was shocked to see Aurora here—so close to him, and in such a vulnerable position. “What the hell are you doing?! Are you crazy, it’s pouring rain,” he hollered.

Aurora was hunched over, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “Are you?! You’re standing out here by yourself.”

Charlie exhaled. “I was thinking,” he mumbled.

There was more that he wanted to say, but he couldn’t—though he sensed that, by the end of this, she’d find a way to drag the words out of him.

Soaked, Aurora straightened herself out. Her voice was loud, booming harder than the incoming thunder. It was a drastic change from her party demeanor. “Stop thinking,” she yelled. “Say it, Charlie!”

His arms tightened at his sides as he paced back and forth, his eyes locked on Aurora and the rain that trailed down her cheeks.

“No,” he trembled. “No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will,” she glared through the downpour.

He was so beautiful to her.

Charlie’s eyes filled with a sudden flush of emotion.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he yelled back.

Aurora’s eyebrows furrowed, her eyes widened. “There’s so many reasons why I should,” she argued.

The weather didn’t pause for them. It drenched them. It made a muddy, sticky mess underneath of their feet and caused Charlie’s shirt to stick to his skin.

Aurora stepped closer. If she reached out, she’d be touching his arm.

“Why won’t you feel?” She broke through the sounds of the rain for just a moment, her face red and blotchy.

Charlie shook his head. His eyes were now squinted shut.

Aurora allowed herself to inch a little closer. She could feel that he was close to breaking—and she’d be there for the fallout.

Charlie felt her. Even though he wasn’t looking, he knew how close she’d gotten. Their breaths synced.

He couldn’t take it any longer.

He broke.

“I am afraid to be close to you,” his hands shook. “You—you scare me, Aurora, and I love the thrill, but I can’t. I don’t know how this is supposed to feel, or how to manage it. I hate pushing you away. I hate pushing anyone away. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be alone.”

Aurora’s breathing stopped. Her mouth fell open.

She reached for his hand.

Their skin collided, both wet and shaking with unearthed emotions. Charlie’s fingertips drew circles along her palm. She smiled, looking up at the boy with admiration.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re okay.”

She was soft with him. He fell for it. Perhaps she was right, after all. He wanted to believe her always.

Charlie didn’t hesitate after that.

He closed the space between the two of them, his lips finding hers as the rain poured down. Her arms snaked around the back of his neck, and his hand pulled away from her palm and relocated to the space above her hip bone. She could feel the fabric of his damp shirt, and if she paid even closer attention, she could feel his heart as it hammered against his rib cage.

It didn’t matter how fast the rain was coming down at this point—all that mattered was Charlie’s lips against hers, and the softness of his vulnerability in that moment.

And, when the two finally did pull apart, it didn’t last long.