10 | Easier Said Than Done

Lizzie, Zack and I spend the rest of the day planning. By the time dinner is over, we've straightened out every possible kink that we can think of. We agree to attack tomorrow, given that everything goes according to plan, and head off to get a good night's rest-- God knows we'll need it.

I wake up in a great mood, ready to take on my next workshop and eager to get back at Rita and Mei later. Unfortunately, the good mood doesn't last long.

Our task of the day in Photography is to go outside and take some pictures, and my creativity still hasn't returned. I try a bunch of different shots, focusing on the nature of the woods, the waves of the lake, and even playing with the sharp angles of the cabins against the bright blue sky. But just like every picture I've taken in the past few months, they all seem pointless and boring.

My classmates return to the room with bright smiles and laughter as they flick through the pictures on their digital cameras, some even still posing for portraits in the well-lit room. Our teacher, Ms. Mac, let's us know we'll review our pictures tomorrow just before the outdoor speakers turn on and Miss Rodriguez announces that it's free time.

I sigh and stand from my desk as the other campers bound out the door to enjoy the sunshine. I don't feel like doing much but staring at my work and sulking, to be honest.

I gather my notebook and my camera, heading back to the cabin with a lot less spirit than I left with. Lizzie isn't there when I arrive, and I figure that like last time, she's probably working overtime on her latest sewing project. If I could get an ounce of the inspiration she seems to have, I'd probably be able to take a picture that doesn't make me want to throw my camera against a wall.

I could go look for Zack to go over the plan again, but honestly, I just feel like being alone for a while. I haven't had a second to myself since I got here, and I wasn't expecting to have Lizzie by my side most of the time, let alone having to deal with all this drama. Don't get me wrong-- I'm excited for what we have planned, and I'm not about to pull out of the prank war. But the stress of not sticking to my initial lone-wolf plan has officially caught up to me, and that's on top my frustration over my inability to take even one good photo.

Thankfully, I know one thing that usually helps clear my head. I put my workshop materials away and undress, switching my jean shorts for a pair of cotton ones and slipping on an old, comfortable t-shirt. I lace up my running shoes and head outside, jogging around the girls' area for a warm-up.

I pick up my pace after a few minutes and head down to the beach, running along the dirt path just before the sand, heading towards the distant fire pits. The path is empty, and a few campers walking along the beach give me surprised side-eyes as I race past-- I guess like Rita and Mei, my idea of fun isn't so popular, either.

Most of the other people here might get their relaxation from floating in the lake or making bracelets back at the craft cabin, but running has never failed me before. Next to photography, it's my favorite thing. It's the ultimate head-clearer, and right now, I'm pretty damn thankful that there's no way to get "runners block." Unlike photography, there's only one right way to run, and I don't take it seriously enough to get frustrated with myself if I don't do a good job.

The once distant fire pits are now directly to my right, and the sound of camp is far behind me. A few squeals and shrieks of fun travel over from the lake, but finally, I'm alone.

After a few more minutes, the dirt path becomes a lot more natural-looking, blending with the grass and nearly getting lost underneath it. To my left, there are trees, and to my right, the beach and lake are empty and quiet. In front, the path continues, but disappears into the woods.

I slow down, knowing I should probably turn around-- but just as I'm about to, my eyes catch something hiding in the foliage. I walk over, panting as I move leaves out of the way to find a wooden sign. Faded white letters read,

Running Trail - (Counselor Supervision Required)

3 mi.

Property of Camp Create It

I back up, suddenly noticing how loud my steps sound in the quiet. I look back to camp, only barely able to make out the dock and the small shed on the lake.

In everything I've read about Camp Create It, I never saw anything about a running trail. I know I should turn back and just run the length of the lakefront back and forth, but it sure would be a lot nicer to not have to parade in front of the other campers in all my sweaty glory. Sure, it does say supervision is required, but I run the trail at the park near my house all the time-- the warning is probably there for the younger campers, anyway.

In the end, my curiosity gets the best of me, and I find myself continuing my run up the trail for the next fifteen minutes. It's obvious that it doesn't get used anymore since nature is slowly overtaking the path. Some trees have gotten knocked over, meaning I have to hop over logs and duck under branches every now and then.

Thanks to the steep incline and the extra effort it takes me to avoid all the hazards, I get exhausted pretty fast. I pause as I reach a small clearing about a mile in-- it's a rest area just off the trail, with nothing more than a wooden bench. Sure enough, there's another sign next to it that looks just like the other one, this time saying nothing more than "one mile mark."

My lungs burn as I hunch over, trying to catch my breath, sweat dripping off my forehead. My calves ache, and it's undeniable-- I'm officially distracted from anything else that was on my mind. All I can think about right now is how stupid I am for not remembering to bring water with me on a run.

There's the sound of a twig snapping somewhere nearby, and then heavy steps. I stiffen, wishing I could stop breathing so loudly.

Is someone there?

Crap-- what if the camp doesn't use this trail anymore because of some freakish, rabid wildlife?

"Need a sip?"

I gasp and swallow a yelp as my body straightens and turns to the voice. Ethan smiles at me, holding out a blue metal bottle that's dripping with condensation.

His eyes widen at my reaction. "Sorry!" he apologizes, placing a hand on his heart. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No-- it's-- don't worry about it." I wipe my forehead-- then immediately put my arm down, wondering how bad my pit stains are. Of course I just had to run into the last person who I'd want to see me dripping with sweat.

"Hey, don't worry-- I don't have cooties or anything," he jokes, still offering the bottle.

I laugh, trying to shake off my embarrassment as I thank him, accepting the water. The cold liquid soothes my chest and cools me off from the inside out. I hand it back to him, wiping my mouth and once again hoping I don't look like a total mess.

"You're not supposed to be out here, you know," Ethan says, screwing the cap back onto his bottle. His voice is playful, though, letting me know that he isn't about to march me to the office.

"Yeah. I just..." I trail off, wishing he didn't make me so nervous. Inducing shyness is like the unfair superpower of attractive people. "Camp was really busy. I sort of needed a minute away."

"I get it," he says. "Why do you think I'm out here?"

I smile, hating the way my heart picks up speed. If I stand here and talk to him any longer, this crush is about to get a whole lot worse, and that's about the last thing I need. "Well, I should probably head back."

"I'll walk you back-- wouldn't want Shaefer to catch you out here by yourself, right?"

On second thought, I guess this crush really can't get any worse, can it?

"Right," I agree, the two of us starting back down the hill. Hopefully, he just thinks my face is red from the exercise. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. So, what did you come to camp for? You a fashion student like Liz?"

I shake my head, laughing slightly. "Not exactly-- the last time I tried to sew a button back onto an old cardigan, I ended up sewing the front to the back."

He laughs, and I try not to feel too proud of myself. That grin is totally worth the loss of a cardigan.

"Yeah, sewing's not exactly my forte. I'm in the photography program."

"Nice! You been doing it for long?"

"Since I was about thirteen. My mom's a writer for newspapers and magazines, so growing up I always read her articles. But I usually found myself paying more attention to the pictures than the words, and eventually I realized it was something I wanted to pursue."

He nods, taking a sip of water.

"What about you?" I ask. "Lizzie told me you were a camper here last year?"

"Yeah, I was in the painting program here for four years. I loved it so much that I figured it'd be the perfect place to have my first job-- it's a pretty popular place to work, though, so there's a lot of competition to get hired as a counselor. I'm lucky I know my way around a kitchen, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

It's impossible not to watch him as he talks, and something about the way he says things just makes you want to listen. It should be illegal for someone that attractive to also be charismatic.

"What kind of stuff do you paint?"

"Portraits, mostly. I like the challenge-- figuring out everyone's unique features makes it so there's a learning curve every time I paint someone new."

We spend a few minutes talking about our different mediums, and he tells me how much camp helped him grow as a painter. Hopefully, I'll have the same luck as him, and Camp Create It can get me back on the right track with my photography.

"You know, I have to ask what was with the worms," Ethan says after our art conversation tapers off.

I flush, feeling embarrassed by the prank for the first time. Does he think it was immature? "It's sort of a long story. The short version is that it was revenge."

"And the long version?"

I guess there is a lot of time to fill on our walk back. I take a deep breath before delving into an explanation of my history with Rita and Mei, all the way up to when Lizzie and I found out that Rita was behind her awol bathing suit top.

As I do, my embarrassment fades-- if Ethan doesn't understand our motive, then he probably isn't the type of person whose opinion I'd value, anyway. So why am I so totally hoping that he does understand?

"I know what we did was kind of childish, but I don't regret it-- even if I did unintentionally start some sort of prank war by doing it. I just had to do something, you know? I needed some sort of justice if I'm expected to deal with seeing them every day."

Ethan nods, cracking a smile, and I realize I've been ranting. I blush-- again-- and turn my attention to the path, glad that we're almost back to camp. The less time we have together, the less chances I have to keep embarrassing myself.

"It was a good prank," he says. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, gaze drawn back to him. "But if you want my advice, don't let Rita or your old friend ruin camp for you."

"Easier said than done," I mumble.

He laughs, looking guilty as he tries to stop himself. "Look, trust me, I know how obnoxious Rita can be. But try to focus on the good stuff instead-- like your photography, or the fact that you've got a friend like Lizzie to spend time with."

Friend. There's that word again.

I nod as we reach the end of the trail and return to the beach. There's a lot I could argue with, since lately focusing on my photography is pretty headache-inducing, and I didn't intend to make any friends here due to how crappy my last friendship went, but I'd rather not let Ethan in on all that. I barely understand it myself at this point.

"Well, I've gotta go shower and get ready to help with lunch," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the staff cabins.

"Right." I nod, knowing I need to get cleaned up myself, and then go over the plan with Lizzie and Zack again at lunch. Ethan's advice was nice, but the fact is, if I don't get back at Rita and Mei for their retaliation, camp will be ruined for me.

"I'll see you, Del," he says, leaving me with a smile as he jogs off, finally letting my heart return to a normal pace.

What do you think of Ethan so far? 💛

What's something you do to relieve stress? 💆‍♀️

(Personally I'm like Delena, nothing helps clear my head like exercise-- but I prefer to do it inside where no one can see me sweat profusely 😂)