"…if the bus hadn't come in time, I might not even be here… Chelsea?" She hadn't been listening to me as I recounted my encounter with the murderous bird. Instead, she was busy staring daggers at the back of CJ's head. CJ was two rows in front of us, talking to a girl with bright red hair, Kim. She and her friends laughed at something he had said.
"I can't believe him," Chelsea muttered, her voice barely a whisper. "We're supposed to be a team for this trip, and he's already ditched us for some girl."
I slumped into my seat, my backpack wedged between my knees. I knew her frustration wasn't just about the trip. Her glares at CJ were sharp, a silent language of hurt and jealousy that I understood all too well.
I looked out the window, my eyes catching the sight of passing trees—a blur of green and brown. The thought of the camping trip made my stomach clench. Mr. Davis had gone on and on about the "manly arts" of camping—setting up tents, making a fire, and most importantly, grilling. I had no experience with any of it.
I'd never been camping before. Dad had always been too busy, and the topic had never come up with Mom. I didn't see anything alluring about it. But the idea of it all filled me with a quiet dread. I had never learned to set up camps or use a grill, and I was worried my lack of experience would be seen as a flaw.
Different scenarios popped into my head: failing to light the grill, falling into the lake while fishing, and many others. They all had the same ending—me getting laughed at. I knew it was a stupid worry, but it felt as real and heavy as the backpack on my lap. A wave of inferiority washed over me, a small, cold current that seemed to whisper, You're not like them.
I glanced back at CJ, whose easy confidence filled the air around him. The way he laughed with Kim, so comfortable in his skin, made me feel even smaller.
I fiddled with the zipper on my backpack; the rough metal provided small comfort against my thumb. The bus continued to rumble on, carrying me further into the woods, and all I could think about was the unease in my stomach. There was something else I dreaded about the trip, but I didn't know what it was.
The old yellow bus groaned to a stop, its brakes hissing like a tired dragon. Mr. Davis,clapped his hands together, "Alright class, welcome to the great outdoors! Let's get these tents pitched and dinner started."
A flurry of students erupted from the bus, a mix of seasoned campers and bewildered first-timers. I climbed down the steps hesitantly, clutching my backpack straps. I watched in astonishment as my classmates effortlessly unfurled tarps and snapped together tent poles. I felt a lump form in my throat, a mix of fear and embarrassment. My first camping trip, and I felt utterly useless.
I looked around for my friends, but they were nowhere to be seen. Guess they didn't want to stick with me. Just as i was about to retreat behind a large oak tree, a voice startled me.
"Hey, need a hand with that?" It was Aaron, a guy from my biology class. He had dirt smudged on his cheek and a confident grin. "First time?" He asked gently, already pulling a tent from my bag.
I nodded, feeling my cheeks burning. "Yeah, is it that obvious?" "Kind of," Aaron replied with a smile. "Come on, I'll show you. It's like building a giant pop-up book."
We worked together, our hands fumbling at first, then finding a rhythm. Soon, the tent stood tall and proud, a miniature home in the wilderness.
As twilight painted the sky in shades of purple and orange, our group gathered around a crackling campfire. Someone started a round of ghost stories, their voices hushed and dramatic. Laughter and shrieks echoed through the trees.
Mr. Davis led a sing-along, his surprisingly good voice blending with the youthful chorus. Later, we played a game of "two truths and a lie," revealing surprising secrets about my classmates.
Warmed by the fire and the camaraderie, I thought of how silly I was. Scared of a camping trip, I mocked myself. I looked up at the stars, a blanket of a thousand twinkling diamonds I had never seen before. I was still a city kid in the woods, but for the first time, I felt like I belonged.
The campfire crackled and spit, casting a warm, dancing glow on the faces of the students. It was my turn. I took a deep breath, calming my nerves.
"Okay, here are my three," i said, my voice a little shaky but steady. I don't think I'd ever talked to such a large group before. "I hate anything chocolate. I can play the guitar. And I can't swim."
A chorus of "Oohs" and "Ahs" rippled through the group.
"The one where you can't swim is a lie. C'mon, who can't swim?" someone shouted.
"No way, he can play the guitar!" Aaron, who sat beside me, countered.
They debated for a full minute, pointing fingers and offering their reasoning. Finally, I couldn't hold back my grin any longer.
"The lie... is I hate chocolate," I admitted, and everyone groaned in unison, followed by laughter. "I love chocolate."
Then it was Liam's turn. Liam was a popular kid on the football team, known for his jokes and easygoing nature.
"My turn, my turn!" he said, practically bouncing. "Okay. I am fluent in Russian. I once ate a bug on a dare and I can do a backflip."
The group fell silent, their eyes wide. A few people looked at him with an expression of pure disgust.
"Oh, come on, that's got to be the lie!" a girl named Chloe said, pointing at the bug statement.
"No, I think the Russian part is a lie," another student, Sarah, chimed in. "That's just too weird."
They went back and forth, each person defending their guess. Finally, Liam's grin widened into a mischievous smirk.
"The lie is that I can speak Russian, I barely passed my English test," he said, and the group erupted in a mix of laughter and groans.
A collective wave of "Ewww!" and "Gross!" swept through the students, followed by a new round of laughter, louder and more genuine than before. Even I couldn't help but laugh, a deep, joyful sound that surprised even myself. The campfire light seemed to shine a little brighter, and the feeling of being an outsider in the woods had completely vanished.
Blood. All around me blood. I saw the lifeless bodies of CJ, Chelsea, Andrew and all my classmates strewn on the floor. Blood seeped out of their bodies trying to get to me.
I saw Mr. Davis, his back to me. I hesistantly approached him, reaching out to him will blood covered hands. I turned him to face me, but his eyes were gone, replaced by an eerie ghostly blue light. An immense feeling of fear overwhelmed me and I woke up.
Staring up at the wall of my tent, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I looked to my side, the sleeping figure of CJ, reminding it was all a dream. I couldn't bring myself back to sleep.