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It was the last week before school started for the fall, and that meant one thing to Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail: band camp. Sure, it was their band, and it was only Cindersap Forest, but it had been a tradition since they were all in middle school, and this was the last summer they had together for sure. So, of course Abigail made sure the boys knew it was mandatory.
“Did you make sure you got everything?” she asked, cradling her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she zipped up her backpack.
“Oh my god, yes mother ,” Sam groaned through the tinny speaker, and Abigail smiled to herself at the tone of exasperation.
“I’m just saying, it’d be a shame if you forgot sunscreen and had to start senior year looking like a tomato…”
“Shut up, Abigail, nobody likes a know-it-all,” the boy hissed, but Abigail was used to his empty threats. Sam was all bark and no bite, more of a golden retriever than whatever mental image he had of himself as a badass.
Her phone buzzed, and she held it where she could check the notification.
Sebussy: omw. brought smores.
“Oh, sick, Sebastian’s bringing s’more’s shit!” She whooped, swinging her pack over her shoulder a little too hard and bashing herself with the bulk of it landing on the drumsticks she’d slid into her back pocket, just in case.
“Nice! I’ll be at the shop in five, bye,” Sam made gross kissing sounds into the phone before hanging up, leaving Abby grimacing at the “call ended” screen. The plan was for them to all meet at Sam’s, since he lived closest to the forest, but apparently his enthusiasm for marshmallows and chocolate overpowered his mind. Meanwhile, their resident goth had kept his head and planned ahead, which she appreciated more than words could really get across.
At least not words that any of them needed to say out loud.
She’d just made her way to the plaza when Sam shouted in the distance. “Bye, guys! Try not to miss me too much!” followed by the slamming of his front door. How Jodi managed to keep her cool with him bashing things up was beyond Abigail, and she swore to Yoba that she’d never be a mother.
His blond head bobbed into view as he skated the short distance between their houses. “‘Sup?”
Abigail laughed lightly. “We literally just talked, Samwise,” she teased as she tied her hair up.
“It’s actually Sams-”
“Son of Samuel, Champion of the Just, Cleric of the All-Father,” Sebastian cut him off, punching Sam lightly in the arm as he strode up. “Loser of Skill Checks and Bets.”
“Hey, don’t gang up on me,” Sam pouted, scuffing his toe into the cobblestones. “I’m sensitive!”
“We know,” Sebastian and Abigail replied in chorus, making all three of them burst into laughter. Whenever Abby thought of happy times, her childhood, or plans for the future, it was always the three of them together. As long as she could remember they’d been friends. The band had always been a dream of theirs, and each summer they’d make a new song while they camped in the woods, performing it for the town on the Sunday before school. They were thick as thieves, and she loved them to death.
Still, sometimes Abigail wondered what it would have been like if she’d had girl friends. Sometimes she’d see Maru and Penny holding hands or fixing each other’s hair and it made a little part of her heart twinge. Sam and Sebastian had realized at some point in the past few years that Abby was a girl, and pretty much all physical contact had stopped. Not that she wanted to be punched in the arm as a greeting…
“Earth to Abs,” Sebastian said, waving a hand in front of her face. She blushed and swatted his hand away.
“I was just thinking about the trip. Like, when are we leaving?” She lied quickly, and to his credit, Sebastian didn’t ask any follow up questions. He just turned and started walking towards the edge of town without a word.
“Wait for meee~” Sam wheedled, taking off after the dark haired boy, leaving Abigail to take the tail of their marching order. It would be a fantastic weekend, she knew from experience, but something had been scratched when she thought about it, and she couldn’t stop worrying the wound in her heart.
~~~
It was a long debate amongst the teens on where they should set up camp. Sebastian and Abigail liked to be closer to the lake, but Sam didn’t want to get eaten alive by mosquitos. He’d brokered an alliance with Abby on camping closer to the trees, but then Sebastian pointed out that sap would get all over their supplies and make everything a pain to pack up later.
Ultimately they settled on camping near the haunted house near the spring onion fields. When they’d been in middle school they’d ventured inside, but a mouse startled the trio and had made Sebastian cry, which made Abigail fight the mouse and then Sam had to stop her from bashing the poor thing. It had been a traumatizing experience all around, and they hadn’t been back since.
Recalling the memory, Abigail measured the value of poking the bear. “Hey Sebby, are you going to be okay near the Mouse House?” she asked, her tone lifting to try to make it sound more like a genuine concern and less like she was bullying him.
“Yeah, I think so. Thanks,” he replied, blowing his bangs out of his face to smile at her.
“That’s our Abby! Always thoughtful,” Sam grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze before his eyes widened and he abruptly pulled back. “It’s, uh, really cool of you. And stuff.”
“And stuff?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You’re welcome, or whatever. I’m gonna go get firewood.” She started to walk away, pausing at the edge of their campsite. When she turned back both boys were looking at her with expressions of confusion, but they fixed their eyes on what they were fiddling with as soon as they were caught. Figures.
She stomped off much harder than was necessary, but honestly? She felt like she deserved to be a little mad. Why did it have to be weird to have a little physical contact? It’s not like she had feelings for either of them. If anything, she was convinced they would end up together someday once they handled their internalized homophobia. But even that didn’t have to be a Thing. Why did they feel like everything was made of glass and uncomfortable and strange?
Sometimes Abigail missed when they were really little, when they would play with bugs and collect pretty seashells and pretend they could talk to the Junimos if they spoke their words backwards. To her it was clear that their friendship was what mattered the most, not any bizarre gender thing, but as she started to bend over and collect wood she realized she might have been assuming that was the issue.
The branches in the clearing nearby were all wet from being too close to the lake, so she ventured further into the woods to find more dry branches. Each step siphoned a little bit of her anger, and soon she was feeling pretty rotten about being so snippy with Sam. Anyone who’d met him knew he was a total sweetheart, but ever since his dad left for military stuff he’d been taking on a lot more responsibility at home. Taking more care of his little brother, and getting a part time job.
And Sebastian had his own issues, too. His stepfather was clearly not a fan of his, and constantly compared him to his stepsister, which made both children deeply uncomfortable. Sebastian’s mom urged him to be patient, but when it was just the three of them he’d vent about wanting to run away sometimes just so he could be himself.
To be completely honest, she thought, it might have nothing to do with her at all. The timelines all crisscrossed, and high school as a kid from a nowhere town like theirs had it’s own challenges. She’d come out as bisexual and dyed her hair last year, daring classmates to confront her about it, and realized she felt better and more herself than ever. So maybe it wasn’t them being weird, but a combination of them not knowing who they were in the way she felt like she didn’t always know who she was inside.
A twig snapped behind her, and Abigail spun around, dropping all her gathered wood and reaching for her pocket knife. “Who–”
“Whoa, ceasefire!” Sam’s voice cracked, and he held his hands up in surrender. Sebastian was there too, holding a flashlight and looking like he had too many things he wanted to say and no way to say them.
“Oh. It’s just you guys,” Abigail sighed, putting her knife away and crouching to pick up the branches.
“Can we help you with that, Abs?” Sebastian asked, nudging one of the logs with his sneaker.
“I– I think I’d like that,” she said, voice tight as she debated her next words. Screw it. “Can we, um, talk?”
“I’ve got some really great news for you,” Sam smiled as he said it, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his hands shook as he helped to gather the wood. Amongst the trio it was much easier to carry the branches, and they made their way back to the campsite by the fading light of the sun and Sebastian’s flashlight.
“I think I owe you guys an apology,” Abigail started, grimacing at how shaky she sounded. She cleared her throat and started again, grateful for the semi-darkness to hide the color in her cheeks.
“I may have been jealous of you guys horsing around and stuff. Like, not because I want you to try to hurt me, obviously, but because I miss you guys being chill about it. I don’t wanna hold hands or anything! But I feel like you don’t know how to act around me these days, and it kinda sucks.”
For a painful moment they walked in absolute silence, the late summer crickets filling the space. Somewhere a frog called. She bet Sebastian would know what type it was just from it’s voice.
“You’re not wrong,” Sam finally said, and his voice sounded just as tight and strange as Abby’s had before. “I guess it’s just different now. Like, the only girl I hug is my mom, and that’s usually because she’s crying. So when I think about hugging you it comes to mind, and then I feel… bad. Just like, in general. Which isn’t your fault! At all!”
Abigail felt her eyes tearing up, and thought some real swears in her head. She would not cry. This was just friends talking.
Sebastian cut in, speaking slower than the others. “I didn’t know it made you sad. I think I would have done something but like, we can’t read your mind. And you’re… really strong. And independent. Like you don’t need anyone.”
“Ugh, no, I’m a mess!” Abigail was laughing, but it sounded wet and desperate in the darkness. “Sometimes I feel like the only thing keeping me sane is you guys. The band. Our D&D game. Being friends with you two is the best.”
Off to her side, Abby swore she heard Sam hiccup. Oh no, she made him cry, too. Why were feelings so hard?
“Don’t call our friend a mess,” Sebastian said sternly. “We really care about her, and if you talk bad about her we’ll have to beat you up.”
This earned genuine giggles from Sam and Abigail, and when Sam snorted the trio broke into loud, echoing belly laughs that seemed to bounce off the trees and into the twilight. Every time one of them would stop, someone would hiccup, and then they’d all start cackling again, laughing all the way back to the campsite where they dumped the wood and stood in a makeshift circle.
“I care about you guys, too,” Abby said, rubbing her nose on her sleeve. She knew her face was puffy, but Sam’s eyes were bloodshot, and Sebastian had to rub his cheeks to stop the cramping from all their laughing.
“You gotta tell us when you’re hurting, Abs,” Sam huffed, kicking the sticks into a more tidy pile. “Then we can at least hurt together. That’s what friends are for.”
“And we can write really depressing music about it,” Sebastian added thoughtfully, prompting a new round of giggles.
“Oh, yes, what are bad feelings for other than to fuel art?” She smiled, tugging each of the boys sleeves. “Can we have a group hug?”
“EW!” Sam shouted, but Abigail and Sebastian were already wrapping him into their embrace. In her heart, Abigail felt the pain from earlier, but she also felt something warm and cozy and safe, too. She supposed that they could both exist in her, and knowing her friends would be there for when the ache got too much to bear made it easier to cope with.
“Seriously, ew, Abigail! Your snot is on my arm!”
They broke apart, Abby chasing Sam with her sleeve and Sebastian getting to work setting up the campfire for the night. “You guys go fight over there,” he warned, digging in his backpack and producing a package of fluffy marshmallows. “I’ll be making s’mores, join me whenever you’re done acting like nerds.”
Sam and Abigail locked eyes, nodding, and then tackled Sebastian to the ground in a joint assault, tickling him mercilessly and wrestling the candy out of his hands.
After all, what’s a campfire without s’mores and friends?