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I. The Beginning
Yeji was fourteen when she met Ryujin. An overcrowded bus filled to the brim with excited teenagers offered the perfect spot for the humble beginnings of their friendship.
The demographic consisted of creative kids with rare parents who supported their artistic dreams. Each seat was occupied by a budding musician, painter, actress, or something of the sort. Yeji fell mainly into the “dancer” category, but her choir classes at school had led her into gaining a liking for singing as well.
When she stared down at the girl who she’d hopefully be sitting with, she had no clue where she landed. Her dark, chopped-off hair and monochromatic outfit placed her with the girls at the front of the bus, who held pencils and sketchbooks. She had the build of a fellow dancer, yet the soft evenness of her gaze matched with that of a writer.
Yeji didn’t know. “Is it alright if I sit here?”
The girl nodded.
“I’m Yeji, by the way. I’m new here, so if you have any advice or —”
“I’m new too.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” She slid into the vacant spot. “What are you here for? Oh, and I should probably ask your name.”
“I’m Ryujin. I’m here to dance, but I’m probably going to see what else this place offers.”
Yeji clung to the edge of the seat, trying not to bother Ryujin more than she already had. She was sure they’d cross paths later on, and if she was lucky, Ryujin would be in a more talkative mood by then.
The girls across the aisle introduced themselves as Chaeryeong and Chaeyeon, and another in the row behind them, Yuna, joined in. The short journey seemed shorter, buried in conversation, and she was almost disappointed when they entered the parking lot. Fortunately, she’d soon learn that she, Ryujin, and Chaeryeong would be in the same cabin.
A crowd gathered next to the bus to drag their bags out of the compartment underneath. Yeji stood at the front of the line, eyeing the wall of suitcases and duffel bags. Someone tapped her shoulder. Yeji turned to find Ryujin’s face.
“Which one is yours?” Ryujin asked.
“It’s the one with the blue and white… Don’t worry about it. It’s heavy.”
“I only want to get it out of the bus. There are so many people over there. It’s pointless for both of us to go.”
Yeji complied, waiting patiently as Ryujin yanked their things out, throwing them back into the grass with strong arms. Yeji grabbed hers and they followed the group of new campers along the paths.
“If they have bunk beds, I’m taking the bottom,” Yeji decided.
“Sounds good to me.”
II. Flip-Flops
Ryujin pressed her pillow over her ears, trying to drown out the sound of her bunk mate sorting through her bag. Now in her second year at Camp Cheshire, she didn’t sleep above Yeji anymore. Yeji shared with Chaeyeon in another cabin, and Ryujin with Yuna. They were all close, of course, but she found herself missing Yeji’s presence more after one day back than she had the entire year away from camp.
It was only the second night, and she already dreaded the end of the summer. Despite having friends back in the city, these girls were different. She belonged here.
The cabin door burst open. Though she was sure every other pair of eyes in the room turned towards the sound, Ryujin held her gaze to the wall, not moving until she realized who it was that had entered.
“Yeji!” Yuna exclaimed.
Ryujin turned in time to see Yeji at the entrance to the cabin, stepping slowly closer to the group inside.
“What’s up?” Ryujin said, crossing her fingers that her failed attempts at sleeping hadn’t messed up her hair too much.
“I forgot flip-flops to wear in the shower. I don’t wanna get foot fungus or something... I don’t know what to do.” She spun her hair around a finger.
As much as Ryujin loved it here, she had to agree that the showers were anything but pristine. “You can use mine,” She offered.
“Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose?”
“Yeji, I trust that you won’t get any sort of diseases on my shoes. Besides, what was the point of coming in here at all if you weren’t going to take an offer?”
She shrugged. “I figured I’d come in, complain, and then shower barefoot, but…”
“They’re in the left side pocket. I’ll come get them from your room when I shower next. Leave them out to dry.”
Yeji nodded, a small smile taking up her face as the tightness in her shoulders fell away. She thanked Ryujin and ran off.
III. Wall Climbing and Zip-Lining
“Please, Yeji. It’s the only thing we haven’t done this summer, and you’ve never tried. I swear, if you get scared halfway through, I can come down and lower you. Just give it a shot.”
“That’s not quite right,” Yeji countered. “We also haven’t gone swimming.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to swim. Don’t be irrational.”
“Fine. Promise me it’s safe, Jin. How many times have you done it before?”
“Ten or eleven. Last year, whenever you, Yuna, and Chaeryeong went to the archery range, Chaeyeon and I came here.”
Yeji took a deep breath. If Ryujin had been here more times than she could count on her fingers, it had to be secure. Either way, there was an “easy wall”, and the harnesses had succeeded for others for more years than she'd lived.
They trekked down the gravel path to the tower out in the woods. It stood above the trees, a lighthouse within a sea of green. Two counselors, both stationed in the rock-climbing area for the entire summer, offered them supplies.
Ryujin took hers into her own hands. Stepping into the openings, she tugged it on over her clothes, pulling it tight until it pressed onto the skin of her thighs. Yeji took the second, putting it on the way Ryujin had at first but losing track of which straps belonged in which places. She dropped her hands in submission.
Ryujin grabbed a loop and held it out. “Here,” she said, voice soft.
Stomach knotted with nervousness, Yeji slid her arm through. They followed the same motions on the other side before Ryujin checked that each strap was sufficiently tightened. Her fingers brushed over Yeji’s skin with each pass, which somehow made her more nervous.
The counselors glanced over their harnesses, nodding to each other and preparing the ropes. Prior to connecting herself to the wall, Ryujin attached Yeji to the enormous hook at the end of the rope, setting the clasp in place. Yeji watched her make her way up to the middle wall and set herself up.
Tilting away from her own wall, Yeji watched Ryujin scale the first third of the tower in mere seconds. Each movement she made was precise, calculated, and powerful. Taking a page from her friend’s book, Yeji positioned her core close to the grips and planted her left hand on a hold. Planks of wood passed in front of her eyes as she pressed further up, losing fear with each step.
“You got this, Yeji, only a few yards left.” Ryujin’s eyes locked with hers, guiding her silently through the final section.
Yeji dragged her limbs onto the platform. Above her head, Ryujin’s hand dangled. She reached for it, allowing herself to be pulled back onto her feet.
“That was impressive,” Ryujin said. “You know, ever since I learned there was a climbing wall here, I imagined that you and I would be the counselors over here someday.”
“I was impressive? Have you seen yourself?”
“I mean, given that you claim to have never been climbing before, that was a good run. My dad and I go to a climbing gym, so I’m well practiced.”
Every day, Yeji found herself amazed by how many things Ryujin hadn’t told her. They called each other best friends, yet so many of their life stories remained covered. To Yeji, that meant more conversations to look forward to. They’d have topics to talk about for their entire lives.
Ryujin’s hand wrapped around Yeji’s wrist. “Ready for the zipline?”
“The what?!”
“How else would we get down? They weren’t gonna build an elevator.”
Yeji’s lips pressed into a line.
“We can go down together. We’ll put two lines next to each other. You can just hug me or whatever, and we’ll be fine.”
Yeji fidgeted with the rope that kept her attached to the platform. “Is that really safe, though? Are those really meant to —”
“I do it with Chaeyeon all the time. It’s fine.”
“You do?”
Biting her lip, Ryujin nodded. With steady hands, she hooked two clips to the cord and slid one through each of the openings around their waists. The length of the cords allowed for some flexibility, but the positions they had available were limited.
Ryujin stepped closer to the edge. She grabbed her own rope. “Alright.”
Yeji wrapped her arms over Ryujin’s shoulders, trying to allow the rope that carried her to straighten Ryujin placed her grip on the connector above her head and crept closer to the edge. Heart beating faster than ever, Yeji pulled her legs up around Ryujin’s waist. The shift in balance sent them over the edge, flying over the woods below.
As their momentum increased, the wind rushed against them with more and more power. Yeji closed her eyes and tucked her chin into the back of Ryujin’s neck. To her own surprise, she felt a grin creep across her face.
They slammed into the landing platform. Yeji peeled away from Ryujin.
“You do that with Chaeyeon?”
Yeji loved Chaeyeon, and she knew that their whole group was incredibly close, but she had a hard time imagining them in that same position. Ryujin wasn’t usually touchy like that.
“Well, not really. We usually go back-to-back.”
“Ah.” That made more sense.
“Was that as terrifying as you imagined it’d be?”
Yeji shook her head. She’d not only moved past her fears, but had enjoyed herself. The climb had left her feeling accomplished, and the descent was exhilarating. “Let’s come back sometime.”
“I’ll be here every day, if that’s what you want,” Ryujin promised.
IV. Late Arrivals
The moment Ryujin stepped onto the bus, she knew something was wrong.
Usually, she arrived before Yeji did. If that had been the truth, she’d have sat down in the seat across from Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong (who drove in even before the bus), made herself comfortable, and waited for Yeji to enter. Instead, today, she was late. At seventeen, her parents had lost their obsession with spending every possible moment with her. She’d driven herself. By some stupid coincidence with a concert scheduled for that night, she’d ended up stuck in traffic.
She’d feared Yeji would worry for her.
Their spot was vacant.
Where was Yeji? Ryujin knew her best friend wouldn’t have missed their first year as counselors in training for anything. That left two options: Yeji was dead, or Yeji was coming to camp another way. Ryujin did not want to consider the first alternative.
She chose the same seat as always but spent the ride in silence, slipping in and out of eavesdropping on the others around her. When they pulled up to the campgrounds, she went through the same motions that she’d done each prior year. None of it felt right. Didn’t she deserve some sort of contact? They’d texted back and forth all year.
Ryujin had no roommate. When they stepped into the lodge, graduating from the cabins they’d resided in as campers, Yuna offered to take a room with her. Ryujin refused to accept that Yeji might never arrive.
The day inched past. Ryujin wandered aimlessly between cabins and buildings, waiting for any unique occurrence. Later, she found herself at the beach. She didn’t know why she was there — Yeji hated the water.
Yuna came running onto the sand. “Ryujin!” she shrieked.
Ryujin bounded towards her. “What is it?” She knew it related to her absent friend.
“She’s here.”
“What?! How?! Why was she late?”
Yuna inhaled. “I don’t know. I was showing some cabin-one kids around, and I saw her in the passenger seat of a car. Something’s off, though. I thought it’d be best if you talked to her first.”
Ryujin bolted. As fast as her feet would allow, she ran to the gravel parking lot when she spotted Yeji. Yeji stood alone, face to the ground, duffel bag in hand, in the center of the lot.
“Yeji,” Ryujin said softly, approaching as if she was fragile.
“Ryujin.” Tears welled in her eyes. The duffel bag dropped from her hand as Ryujin hugged her.
“I’m glad you’re here. What’s wrong?”
Yeji melted into her arms. “It’s… My grandmother… She…”
“It’s okay. Let’s walk. There’s a trail head not far from here. We can take as long as we need. Yuna can handle your bag.”
Sniffling and rubbing her eyes, Yeji nodded. They followed the camp’s wide roads until a smaller path branched away.
As they let it pull them into the trees, Ryujin spoke again. “Are you ready to talk about this?”
Yeji didn’t speak. Wood chips pressed under their feet, making just enough noise to be audible over the deafening silence. Ryujin watched the trees blow past. Waiting didn’t concern her.
“I want to, but it’s hard.”
“Take all of the time you need.” She wanted to tell Yeji that she was loved, cared about, and appreciated. Instead, she left the quiet. Yeji needed to think.
“Last week,” Yeji breathed, “my grandma told my mom she was dizzy — she’s lived with us since my grandpa passed away a few years ago — and obviously, my mom was worried that it was a stroke, so she took her to the emergency room. They ran some tests and watched her, and it wasn't a stroke. The problem is that they’ve determined that something’s wrong but not what it is. The test results keep taking forever. I’m… I feel… It’s scary, Jin. I don’t know if I’ll ever even see her again.”
Ryujin didn’t know what to tell her. The pain was real. It ran between them, tying their hearts together. Ryujin wished she could comfort Yeji, but she was at a loss for words. There was no “she’s in a better place now” or “the doctors will know what to do”.
“I’m sorry, Yeji.”
That was the best she had. There was no cure for waiting.
“Please,” Yeji whispered. “Hug me.”
Ryujin brought her in, praying that the embrace was enough.
V. Anyone Else
Yuna called out Yeji’s name as she returned to the room. Yeji found her in the common room at the end of the hallway.
“Oh. Ryujin’s not with you,” Yuna stated. “That’s a first.”
“You could’ve said ‘hi’.”
Yuna was an irreplaceable member of their group; that was undeniable. However, she’d been on a recent kick involving a lot of telling Ryujin and Yeji that they’d work well in a relationship. Though neither of them enjoyed the teasing, Yeji found that it affected her a lot more than it affected Ryujin.
“Where’s your girl?”
“Stop fucking calling her that. We’re friends. Nothing more.”
“Your bodyguard? Secret admirer? Partner in crime? What would you prefer?”
“You’ve called her ‘Ryujin’ for years. I don’t see why that’s a problem all of a sudden.”
Yuna groaned. “Let me have fun.”
“It’s not fun, Yuna. It’s borderline harassment.” At that moment, Yeji would’ve given anything in the world for Yuna to leave her silent, free from the nonsense she dreamed up.
“Where is she?”
“The shower. We were both showering, but I —”
“Together?”
For hardly the first time in her life, Yeji resisted the urge to slap Shin Yuna across the face. Was it really that hard for her to shut her mouth?
“Not together,” Yeji spat, “and for the record, I’d rather date anyone else on the planet. I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to do, but if it keeps up, it’s going to wear away at our friendship, and I won’t stand for that.”
She stormed out, face alight, leaving Yuna behind to rot with her words. The door to the room she shared with Ryujin lay slightly ajar. She pressed it open. Ryujin’s face displayed nothing but self-loathing.
Dread pooled in Yeji’s stomach. Had she missed something terrible while lost in her argument with Yuna?
“What’s wrong, Jin?”
Silence.
“Please tell me.” She tried to lace an arm over Ryujin’s shoulder. It didn’t feel right. She’d always been the one below the gesture.
Ryujin’s body remained stiff.
“Why won’t you tell me? Is it something I did?”
Ryujin’s dark eyes didn’t shift from their place on the opposite wall. Yeji’s mind fell back to the argument she’d shared with Yuna. Ryujin might not have heard the entire exchange, but the end remarks had held the most power, either way.
At the same time, Yeji had only spoken the truth. Had something changed? Why would Ryujin take her comments like this?
She didn’t want to think anymore.
VI. Gorgeous
Yeji didn’t swim, but that wasn’t enough to stop Ryujin from dragging her out to the beach on a particularly clear night to watch the sunset.
It had been a year since Yeji had broken her heart. Ryujin couldn’t hold a grudge — Yeji was her best friend — but it was hard to leave her feelings behind. If anything, her false hopes had only returned to their former glory. She was in love. She was madly, furiously in love, and she spent every waking moment with the subject of her admiration. It wasn’t her fault Yeji was perfect.
“It’s so pretty, Jin. Isn’t it?”
“It’s gorgeous.” She nudged Yeji’s shoulder. “Almost as gorgeous as you.” She should’ve considered her words brave, when Yeji didn’t love her back. They always spoke like this, though.
Despite not turning, Ryujin could sense Yeji’s sparkly gaze tracing her features. It was cruel of her to lead Ryujin on like this.
“You’re more gorgeous than the sunset,” Yeji told her.
If Ryujin was braver, she might have said something. She might have asked Yeji if she could kiss her, because it would have been so picturesque, so memorable, so sweet. She wanted that to be their story to tell, not some tale of unrequited love.
Somehow, she lived both a dream and a death sentence.
VII. Distracted
If there was one defining event each summer at Camp Cheshire, it was the talent show. A sort of mutual understanding meant no one would judge a bad performance, but that didn’t stop each camper, CIT, and counselor from putting together a five-star act.
Throughout the past years, Yeji had joined forces with Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and Yuna to perform a dance. They took turns choosing songs. This time, it was Ryujin’s. To everyone’s dismay, she chose the most complex choreography she could think of.
Yeji couldn’t identify a single part of her body that wasn’t sweating.
Ryujin ordered them around like soldiers. “Yuna, Yeji, close the gap! We need to balance this out.”
“Maybe it’d be easier to be balanced if you’d picked a choreography meant for four people,” Yuna groaned.
“We figured it out fine last year,” Ryujin argued.
“‘Heart Shaker’ and ‘The 7th Sense’ are very different situations.”
“Do your best, alright? We’ve got another week and a half to polish this.”
Chaeyeon, who often sat in on their rehearsals, rewound the music. They assumed their starting positions — abnormal poses, for an idol dance. The muscles in Ryujin’s back tightened as she started to move.
Catching herself staring, Yeji missed her first cue.
“Stop the music!” Ryujin called. She turned. “What was that, Yeji?”
Yeji took in a slow breath, trying not to look at the face in front of her. Was Ryujin angry? Disappointed? “Sorry. I got distracted.”
Ryujin glanced down at Yeji’s trembling hands. She faced the group. “Let’s grab some water, everyone.”
Dragging her to the mirror, Ryujin forced a bottle into Yeji’s hand. Yeji drank. She attempted to calm her sudden rush of nerves, but her face only grew more flushed.
“Is something wrong?” Ryujin asked. She slid her fingers between Yeji’s.
Yeji shook her head, heart thumping against her rib cage.
“You sure? You don’t look… Yeji, don’t lie to me.”
Her intent hadn’t been dishonesty, but it was difficult to explain emotions that she couldn’t define in her own mind. “I’m sorry, Ryujin. I don’t know.”
“Don’t apologize. Try.”
“I wish I understood. I feel sort of lost and flustered, and my hands are all clammy and I must be tired, or something like that.”
Ryujin pulled her into a sweaty hug. “We can go to bed early tonight, and I’ll try to wrap this practice up soon. Take a deep breath.”
Though Yeji tried to take in the words, the sentiment was interrupted by the tingling sensation that erupted across her skin as Ryujin abandoned the embrace. While Yeji still had a lot to uncover, she was beginning to gain a sense for what went on between her head and her heart.
VIII. Meeting Up
“Table for five, please,” Yuna said.
The waitress led them to a round table outside that overlooked a lake. Yeji sat first, so Ryujin wound herself around the table to sit next to her. It felt strange seeing her during the spring, but she wasn’t complaining.
“Thanks for arranging this, Chaer,” Yeji said.
It might’ve been the months of absence behind them, but Ryujin thought Yeji looked especially stunning tonight. Her hair was tied half up, and she wore a sweater and jeans — two things Ryujin wasn’t used to seeing at camp. She pitied herself for the fact that Yeji’s beauty would never be hers.
“I’ve been here a few times before,” Chaeryeong replied, “both with Chaeyeon and without. Once I got the idea, I had to go through with it.”
They each ordered a dish but shared pieces among themselves. They complimented the meals and paid before moving on to their second stop: the movie theater. After buying a few packages of snacks and candy, they found their seats and made themselves comfortable. Ryujin ended up between Yeji and the aisle. Perfect.
The film started to play out. Minutes ticked by in silence, occasional whispers escaping between Yuna and Chaeyeon. Ryujin allowed the movie to absorb her attention.
Something soft tickled her shoulder. Barely moving her head, she looked to her side. Yeji’s eyes were closed as she leaned on Ryujin’s shoulder, hair pooling between them. Ryujin’s gaze broke from the screen. Yeji’s presence at her side was bittersweet; Ryujin had dreamed of moments like this, but in her mind they were always comfortingly romantic. Now, each time they were close, Ryujin feared it’d be the best she’d ever get. What should have been a simple blink in time became her reason to exist.
With all of that taken into account, there was no way in hell she was going to wake Yeji and tell her to sleep on someone else, even if that would have been better for both of them. Her only option remained a constant lie.
She’d tried to stop loving Yeji, and her efforts would continue, but she knew they’d never prevail. They’d find a way back. They always did.
IX. Matchmaking
One day, when Ryujin was taking her sweet time in the shower, Yuna pulled Yeji into the lodge’s common room. This had occurred once in the past and had ended in flames, a broken heart, and a slight fracture in trust. Since then, they’d patched the visible issues. Yuna had abandoned her teasing, even if she kept the belief that Ryujin and Yeji were in love.
She knew better than either of them.
“What’s up, Yuna?” Yeji asked.
“I have a question for you,” Yuna replied, “but you’re not gonna like it.”
Yeji rolled her eyes. She knew what was coming. “Go ahead.”
“Promise me you’ll be honest. I won’t tell a soul, no matter what you answer.”
“Fine, whatever,” Yeji huffed. She wondered whether Ryujin was almost done, whether she’d be interrupting the conversation anytime soon and in turn saving Yeji from Yuna’s persistent pestering.
“Do you…” Yuna breathed. “Do you see Ryujin as more than a friend?”
Heat crept at the edges of Yeji’s face. “Why do you care?”
“It’s not really a question, Yeji. It’s so obvious, and I don’t know how she hasn’t seen it, or how you haven’t seen it on her face, for that matter.”
Yeji didn’t understand how Yuna had read her. She’d struggled to put a name on the thoughts themselves. Never would she have guessed someone else could detect them. She had no idea what her next step was supposed to be. Yuna had essentially made the statement that Ryujin felt the same, but what if she was wrong?
Yuna lowered her voice to a whisper. “I had the same fucking conversation with her six days ago — it’s ridiculously difficult to find you two apart — and I would not be here if the outcome of that was any different. Don’t tell me you’re only friends. Your ‘best friend’ has been head-over-heels for you for years.”
What? Yeji was at a loss for words, almost dizzy at the revelation. How did Yuna know all of this? There was no way Ryujin had flat-out admitted that, especially given Yuna’s reputation as the camp’s worst secret keeper.
Despite that, Yuna wasn't a liar.
“Yes, I,” Yeji mumbled, “I think I look at her as more than a friend.”
“You think?! I’m pretty sure that if she asked to kiss you, you’d cry tears of joy.”
The pink in Yeji’s cheeks burned brighter.
“I’ll let her know,” Yuna said. She left without another word.
X. Above the Trees
Two pairs of feet crunched on gravel, carrying a pair of girls out to the woods.
“Do you remember when I first dragged you out here?” Ryujin asked, pausing at the base of the tower.
The event had transpired three years prior, a short span in a worldly sense, but an enormous cut of their lives. For Ryujin, it made the difference between being a sixteen year old, unsure about the world, to being a grown woman with a life to hunt down.
“How could I forget? I remember it like it was yesterday.”
Ryujin agreed, though she chose to leave the night quiet. A pile of harnesses lay in an unlocked shed within the tree line. Yeji tugged the door open. After knotting themselves into the equipment, they began to climb up the walls. Ryujin took the most difficult, Yeji the middle level. With three summers of practice for Yeji and a lifetime for Ryujin, they completed the course with relative ease. Drops of sweat dotted their faces at the crest of the wall.
Ryujin stopped in her tracks when she lifted her eyes from the footholds and grips in front of her. Above them, hundreds of stars dotted the sky like flakes of glitter on a wash of midnight blue. Yeji sat beside her. Neither of them could look away. Constellations in the sky painted stories of legends before them. Ryujin recognized a few, but was lost on the rest of the sky.
“Jin,” Yeji whispered. “You look so… handsome in this light. Am I allowed to say that? Is that weird?”
“No, it’s not weird.” It was perfect.
“Ryujin,” Yeji whispered.
Ryujin pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “You look absolutely divine in this light.”
Yeji leaned back into Ryujin’s lips, letting them fall together like waves in an ocean of shadow. They held close, Ryujin’s fingers raking through Yeji’s long hair. As minutes passed, thought tumbled onto the back burner. They disappeared within the spinning of the earth, insignificant in a way that only they would ever know.