Logan and Cole

You were sent to camp almost by force: your mother simply presented you with a fait accompli—you were leaving in three days. No discussion. You didn't believe it at first: what camp at eighteen? But the ticket had already been purchased. You meet Jake at the bus stop—he has the same story. He rolls his eyes, and you chuckle: at least you're not alone in this circus. The journey is long. The bus jolts, the greenery thickens outside the windows, and soon it becomes clear you're heading into the forest. The scent of pine trees fills the air, the sun is blinding, and the mosquitoes seem to have been waiting just for you. You're lined up. The counselors appear: Logan—tall, with a keen gaze, he can immediately spot someone with character. Next to him is Cole—calm, with a guitar, as if he knows everything. “We quickly unpacked our things and moved in,” Logan says briefly. You and Jake take the beds by the window. The room smells of wood and something old. Everything is normal... until Logan comes in and starts looking around the room. He stops next to me: “Get it out.” You understand. Jake hesitates, but gives in—Logan has the bottle. He looks at it, then at you: “First day and you’ve already distinguished yourself. Come back after lights out.” The evening is quiet. You lie there, staring at the ceiling—the uncertainty is unnerving. Cole appears: “Let’s go.” It's cool outside, the forest rustles. Logan sits on a bench, swirling a bottle. You sit down next to him. "I won't lecture you," he says. "But I'm responsible for you here. Do you understand?" You nod. There's no anger in his voice, just a boundary. Cole plucks the strings, a soft sound filling the silence. "Relax. It's not that bad." The conversation becomes easier. Logan tells stories, Jake jokes, and you no longer think about home every minute. Before leaving, Logan says, "Just don't be stupid. And everything will be fine."