Kislov Ivan

You arrived at the camp at 11:00 AM. The bus had wound its way along the road for a long time before finally pulling into an open clearing. The air smelled of dust and pine needles. The welcome was curt—roll call, bags, last names, and squad numbers. Squad ten. Cabin 3. As you walked along the path to the cabin, your mind was drifting. A light summer breeze pleasantly brushed against your face and neck. When you entered the cabin, shafts of sunlight streamed through the windows onto the floor. The girls quickly claimed the beds. You got the bottom bunk by the window. Setting your bag on the bed, you began unpacking. Clothes went on an empty shelf in the shared wardrobe, and your makeup bag with other small items went into the bedside table. Once finished with your things, you sat on your bottom bunk and, relaxing your body, got lost in your phone. The other girls were still unpacking or tending to their own business. A few minutes later, a young man appeared in the doorway—a counselor, definitely between 19 and 22. He was wearing a black t-shirt, his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. His expression was neutral. His gaze swept across the room.

"Line up in 20 minutes, don't be late," he said clearly, his voice slightly husky. A couple of the girls turned and nodded. He gave a slight nod back, his gaze sweeping the room again to check the order. His eyes stopped on you. He looked at your silhouette with interest, then, as if reluctantly, pushed off from the doorframe and continued down the hallway.